It is another Saturday morning in the shed, and Mrs B.O. has just arrived with the B.O’s morning drink once again. This morning, he looks at her fondly. “ Ah, thank you my darling!” he says warmly. “ Getting colder isn’t it? Soon Christmas shall be upon us! Time for the season of goodwill! Time for merriment, dancing, and a stolen moment or two under the mistletoe!” Mrs. B.O. gives a sudden silent shudder and looks close to fainting. The B.O notices. “ Oh darling, are you cold?” he says, with concern. “ No, I’m fine,” she says flatly. “ Well, maybe Father Christmas will bring you a nice winter coat this year! You never know!” says the B.O with an enigmatic smile, that somehow reminds Mrs B.O. that the shower head needs replacing. “ Whatever happened to that lovely coat, I got you two years ago, anyway?” asks the B.O. “ What, you mean, the donkey jacket that had ‘STEWARD’ written on the back?” replies Mrs B.O. “It was a brand name!” says the B.O indignantly, “ It was specially imported from London!” “ Oh yes, the one they found in THAT laundry basket.” replies Mrs. B.O. “ Anyway,” says the B.O hastily “I bought you a very expensive present last year!” “ Yes, you did.” agrees Mrs B.O. staring at him. “ You bought me an incredibly expensive state of the art coffee machine.” The B.O. nods, with a tender smile. “ Yes, I did.” He says softly. Mrs. B.O eyes him coldly. “ But I don’t drink coffee, do I?” She says, and with that she turns and leaves, shutting the door firmly behind her. The B.O stares at the door for a moment, then shakes his head slowly. Women, he thinks, who can understand them? Almost as irrational as football supporters, he muses, until he suddenly chokes on a bit of ameretto biscuit, which goes down the wrong way. Let’s leave the B.O gasping for air as he contemplates things he does not really understand. He’s still here. Oh fuck..
Well, after Addickted2TheReds bombshell that the count may be a bit out ( it could be a seasonal adjustment, global warming, Brexit, or even Strictly, who knows) but Christmas has been put on hold in the 3bloke household whilst we try and assess the situation. I would urge everyone to remain calm as we try to sort this out, stay indoors, keep all windows shut, and don’t answer the door to anyone with a clipboard. (unless they’re really fit, and you can’t help yourself ) Otherwise go about your normal business, citizens, because I think there’s one thing we can still be sure of, in these uncertain times : He’s still here. Oh fuck...
The only reason I say is that it keeps going from 1679 to 1670...
Sorry! :-)
Ah I was waiting for someone to spot my deliberate mistake! Well done Addickted2TheReds! ( thanks ) Right it is indeed Day 1691 and 1692 As you were....
Good morning According to the weekend computations at 3blokes Towers, allowing for wind and seasonal drift, I think a count correction is due as follows-
Isn't it time to change the thread title to Counting the years.. Save yourself the daily grief and post just once per annum
That made me chuckle It does seem pretty pointless at times BUT I’ve sort of got into a routine with it now, I wake up, check the news, post up the count and then go downstairs to be annoyed by the kids arguing over their breakfasts His tenure seems more absurd and pointless by the day to me, it has achieved nothing of note, and daft as it seems, he just seems too stubborn to admit it. Well, we can be stubborn too. I am just waiting for the moment I can say he’s fucked off, so that I can finally go back to building that 15ft submarine out of matchsticks that’s been sitting in the garage all this time.
Comments
He's still here.
Oh fuck.
A high five fuck.
He’s still here.
Oh waste disposal fuck...
Another week gone.
He’s still here.
Oh fuck...
It is another Saturday morning in the shed, and Mrs B.O. has just arrived with the B.O’s morning drink once again.
This morning, he looks at her fondly.
“ Ah, thank you my darling!” he says warmly. “ Getting colder isn’t it? Soon Christmas shall be upon us! Time for the season of goodwill! Time for merriment, dancing, and a stolen moment or two under the mistletoe!”
Mrs. B.O. gives a sudden silent shudder and looks close to fainting.
The B.O notices.
“ Oh darling, are you cold?” he says, with concern.
“ No, I’m fine,” she says flatly.
“ Well, maybe Father Christmas will bring you a nice winter coat this year! You never know!” says the B.O with an enigmatic smile, that somehow reminds Mrs B.O. that the shower head needs replacing.
“ Whatever happened to that lovely coat, I got you two years ago, anyway?” asks the B.O.
“ What, you mean, the donkey jacket that had ‘STEWARD’ written on the back?” replies Mrs B.O.
“It was a brand name!” says the B.O indignantly, “ It was specially imported from London!”
“ Oh yes, the one they found in THAT laundry basket.” replies Mrs. B.O.
“ Anyway,” says the B.O hastily “I bought you a very expensive present last year!”
“ Yes, you did.” agrees Mrs B.O. staring at him. “ You bought me an incredibly expensive state of the art coffee machine.”
The B.O. nods, with a tender smile.
“ Yes, I did.” He says softly.
Mrs. B.O eyes him coldly.
“ But I don’t drink coffee, do I?” She says, and with that she turns and leaves, shutting the door firmly behind her.
The B.O stares at the door for a moment, then shakes his head slowly.
Women, he thinks, who can understand them? Almost as irrational as football supporters, he muses, until he suddenly chokes on a bit of ameretto biscuit, which goes down the wrong way.
Let’s leave the B.O gasping for air as he contemplates things he does not really understand.
He’s still here.
Oh fuck..
I wonder what B.O. is doing in his shed these days?
Inventing a duplicating machine which spits out fictitious purchasers for his football clubs?
Nice win.
He’s still here.
Oh fuck..
Back to your brilliant best.
He’s still here.
Oh fuck.
He’s still here.
Oh fuck.
He’s still here.
Oh windy bin fuck..
He’s still here.
Oh long time fuck..
Oh fuck...
Well, after Addickted2TheReds bombshell that the count may be a bit out ( it could be a seasonal adjustment, global warming, Brexit, or even Strictly, who knows) but Christmas has been put on hold in the 3bloke household whilst we try and assess the situation.
I would urge everyone to remain calm as we try to sort this out, stay indoors, keep all windows shut, and don’t answer the door to anyone with a clipboard. (unless they’re really fit, and you can’t help yourself
Otherwise go about your normal business, citizens, because I think there’s one thing we can still be sure of, in these uncertain times :
He’s still here.
Oh fuck...
Sorry! :-)
Right it is indeed Day 1691 and 1692
As you were....
Nov 28= 1678
Nov 29=1679
Nov 30=1680
Dec 1. = 1681
Rachel Riley has just confirmed this.
Indeed, this snakes and ladder event happened earlier in November and the points go to Addicted2TheReds.
What a carry on (Was Sid James in that one)
According to the weekend computations at 3blokes Towers, allowing for wind and seasonal drift, I think a count correction is due as follows-
Day 1795
He’s still here.
Oh fuck..
(That’s 256 weeks, 59 months of all this)
He’s still here.
Oh fuck..
He’s still here.
Oh fuck...
Save yourself the daily grief and post just once per annum
It does seem pretty pointless at times BUT I’ve sort of got into a routine with it now, I wake up, check the news, post up the count and then go downstairs to be annoyed by the kids arguing over their breakfasts
His tenure seems more absurd and pointless by the day to me, it has achieved nothing of note, and daft as it seems, he just seems too stubborn to admit it.
Well, we can be stubborn too.
I am just waiting for the moment I can say he’s fucked off, so that I can finally go back to building that 15ft submarine out of matchsticks that’s been sitting in the garage all this time.