the painting job

Every year.....not every ear we are obliged to tidy up
our environment.....ie the shack. Non attendance at this
team function is frowned upon by the damagement
especially by Hamish Mixwell the shack supervisor and
inspector. A fastidious and fussy person who likes the shack
to be free of cigarette butts and drying socks. He stomps in
in his Gucci shoes every week for a fine tooth comb inspection.
He has always a complaint . I believe he would like us all in
uniforms and marching on Poland asap. We are all surly wastrels
with a healthy dollop of " we dont need no thought control...."
we like our dry habitat on the scruffy side.
But alas and alak.....today we had to paint it and there was
Hamish looking on with pride....and a few criticisms and suggestions.
He was kind enough to say to me
" the only place youve got a blister is on your feckin arse ! "
I think he was referring to my natural role in a supervisory capacity.
He also cruelly rejected my suggestion that I should paint an erotic mural,
and that we should have a graffitti corner. Hes a hard man Hamish.
But we all mucked in and were sent off with a sandwich and a beer
in our pockets. Marvellous. Waynetta aka Mogli the man cub seemed in
a bad mood when he said " I dont want to be on your feckin blob , cloppy . "
There we are Wayne.....just what you didnt want....ya booo sucks