The Tattooed Arm

Track of the day - Love Song Number 3 - Bagshaw.

This tattooed arm got off the bus yesterday as I wandered along to purchase a pack of cigarettes. I felt sorry for it. Not to worry, I'm not really an arm man anyway.

In the hope of finding a reliable, company with workmen who turn up when they say they will and are skilled enough to diagnose and fix problems, disgruntled wife phoned another roofing company to get a quotation.
End result - I spent another fruitless Monday protected from the rain by the thickness of a margarine tub lid.
Last night while leafing through the home services section of the Bogsville Bugle I stumbled upon an advert for a fencing company with the same name and telephone number as our crap roofing company.
I made a mental note not to use them for fencing repairs. If these guys represent the very best of modern entrepreneurial, multi-tasking Britain, I'm emigrating. They couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery!.

No sooner had I typed the magic word 'brewery' than a white van turned up outside and out climbed fat roof guy and thin roof guy.
"We've come to fix the valley tile. Do you still want it done?" asked thin roof guy.
"Might be an idea," I said, "the margarine lid won't last for ever."
Eventually fat roof guy announced that the roof was fixed and that Boss roofman had said he'd have to charge for this job because it wasn't the same as the original job.
"Could have fooled me!" I said and refused to pay.

Disgruntled wife's roofing contact still hasn't materialised so if there's a competent, reliable roofer out there, please get in touch.