And I Expect A Blocked Loo Would Bother Half of You Lot?

Bloody midnight. Just ate my dinner and thought, by the feelings in my guts, I'd better sneak out to the ditch, give vent to what's boiling. So, I grab my trusty Clulite Classic (Actually the best light, of it's type, I've ever had the pleasure of owning!) and stumbled out to the hidden entrance of the Bat Cave.

Once in there, I habitually peer into the ditch. I like to do this, just to see what sort of rains we've been experiencing. A good load of rain can takes many hours to come down off that mountain, see? So, it might be a sunny day, yet the ditch can be in torrential spate.

But, anyway, this was midnight and the ditch looked decidedly tardy. No time to think about that though. My guts were gurgling and no way was I going to risk a fart with my trousers up! That's quite enough information on that aspect though, eh? Let's get onto the Really vile stuff!

So, having cleared my bowels, and thus my head, I returned my attention to the question of my swirling ditch. A quick look over the fence I'd erected, to save the Dogs or I slipping into the Deep Pool below the Bat Cave soon showed me that a good pitch forking would be in order down there. Hell of a 'dam' has formed.

I'll uck that out and send it to form up again, further down, where I won't see it or be directly effected by it. Otherwise, see, it's just forming me a deep cess pit, right outside the door of my little throne room.

That decided, I realised water can't run upwards, so there must be something further back that was causing my, preferably, free running ditch to swirl, eddy and foam beneath me. So I crawled round the back.

Outflow pipe, from the upper reaches of the ditch, was spurting it out good. No problem there then. I was narrowing it down ~ and all this by torch light, remember. Towards the end of a good evenings session with the pint glass. But, now things were looking set to get a bit 'up close and personal'.

First off, I tried ramming my rods (I keep my rodding rods beside the ditch, just for such occasions as this. I mean; Fuck having to come in here to get them. Then screwing them all together in the dark, cramped confines of under the bushes out there) Unfortunately, ram as I liked, I couldn't seem to get 'Beneath the Box' to clear. 'It' was still eddying and swirling there. I actually saw 'Richard' go sailing by, round and round in circles. Fuck.

This is where the Men and the Boys part company, out here! Half pissed. One hand holding my flashlight. Unaware of whether or not I had my mobile in my pocket ~ in case of nasty little accidents ~ gazed balefully at that damn fence and, with my customary battle mumble of; " Well: It needs to be done. And there's sure as hell no bastard gonna come here and do it for us! ", I started heaving my carcass over that damn fence, directly above the Deep Pool.

What a fucking pollavva. There's me, scrambling about on top of an old bike frame that's been there since The Old King died. God knows just how rusted through. Yet there's only that and a bit of vine between me and 'Good Night, Vienna ~ Hulloo, Richard!' One false move and I'd have been head down and drowning in it. They'd not find me for months, if ever.

Then I'm squirming about down there, one foot braced against the far bank ~ seemingly rather absurdly, but actually quite naturally, for me, looking sideways for signs of rat activity. Then I remember what I'm here for and get my head down low enough to peer Up the ditch. Right into the very maw of hell.

(Waves, from and too Richard. Still there, I see? ~ Though I wish I couldn't) Deep breath. Bare hand extended ..... Reach. Rummage. Grip and rip.

Splosh! A fair quantity of water, mulch and god knows splashes into the Deep Pool beneath me. Same again. Scratching a bit to the left. Splash! Spatter ..... I risk another actual look up there. Now I can see it. Rummage, rummage. Grip. Heave! Oh, Dear God!!!

And the entire fucking dam burst! Out spewed about half an Ash tree, half a ton of mulch. Gallons of water. Brief glimpse of a cheering Rick, and all his mates as they made their jubilant way towards The River, far below. (Only, of course, to get way layed by the dam causing the Deep Pool to be even deeper. That's Another job for me to look forward to).

And all this, at fucking midnight. Straight after my dinner. Dressed only for a quiet night in front of the computer.

And, I expect, the most You ever have to deal with is attacking a stubborn Floater, with the loo brush, at arms length, beneath an indoor electric light?

Ye don't even know ye born!