I've sprung a leak...

Fortunately, I'm not a boat, so I'm wasn't immediately worried. Still, to be on the safe side, I called a plumber to come and take a look.
 The doorbell rung, and I duly opened it. The plumber stood outside. Well, I assumed he was a plumber: He had tool-belt anyway, and a small moustache. He looked up as I opened the door:
 "Good morning madam," He began. "I hear your pipes need looking at..."
I sighed, and let the plumber in.
 "The leak's in my bedroom," I began unthinkingly. "Can you try and fix it?"
 "The bedroom? Yea, I'll see what I can do. Just show me your leak, and I'll see if I've got the tools for the job."
 I showed the plumber into my room, and wandered off to make some coffee. I returned, about 5 minutes later, to find the plumber sprawled naked on my bed. I looked at him in shock for a few moments, and he began to look sheepish. From my walls came the rush of water, and like a badly-formed sexual metaphor, the pipes broke, spurting water into the room. After a few minutes, I snorkeled the plumber and left him to work.
 In fact, it turns out he has no actual plumbing qualifications. As such, he drowned after a few minutes. Fortunately, I opened a window and the water flowed out, taking the dead plumber with it.
 What I should have done was get something fire-spewing to evaporate the water.
 Do you get fire-spewing plumbers? I'd like to think so, there's certainly a market for them...

Jaws 5

If you were to look across my flat, you would be presented with an interesting sight. Really, you would in any situation - I mean, you're probably noisy anyway, and to look 'across' a flat, you'd probably have to take a wall down, which is also interesting. But I digress, and with bad sentence structure...
 Anyway, you would notice that my flat was flooded, almost to the ceiling, with water (Could have been custard, don't get snippy). If you watched for a little longer (Again, sorry for the interruption. A little longer though? What does that mean: Longer from when? Relative to what?) you would be further interested to see me, soaking wet, emerge from the water and pull myself onto a ceiling fan. The water has been flowing into my flat since my last update, and it seems nothing can stop it - fire proved useless, electricity betrayed me, and throwing baby sharks at it was just stupid. My doors, before you ask, are air-locked - my fear of gases that turn you inside-out got the better of me - and open inwards, so they offer no escape. My windows, similarly airtight, I cannot open.
 For days I took refuge in the fridge, but without power, the eggs went off, and it smelled bad. Emerging, I found one shark had eaten the others, absorbing their powers through a Satanic ritual. Now, he's eyeing me up casually. Very casually, in fact. He's sitting on my sofa, underwater. Soon, he'll probably laminate a newspaper. There seems to be no escape. I always mocked those "how will you die" quizzes dotted around the Internet, but it seems they're dead on. And I scoffed when they said a Demonic shark would eat me in the living room. Learn from my mistake gentle reader! Forward chain mail, quick as you can! Tragedy could befall you all at any moment!

I can't sleep. Every night this week, its been the same. It's my new neighbours, you see.
 Well, when they first moved in, there were some complaints from the older members of the community. "We don't like their kind." They'd say. "Why don't they go back to where they came from? They're not suited to life here". Well, I had no problems, and welcomed them in with open arms. Of course, they were nice enough, and I naturally accepted their apology for any upcoming disturbances as they renovated their new flat.
 But now, every night, there's sawing. Endless, 8-armed sawing. And the water... It just keeps dripping through the ceiling and running down the walls. I don't know if I should complain - after all, they've already suffered enough pressure from people who don't think they belong here.
 I don't want to be racist, but it isn't easy living with a family of Octopus...

If Octopus turns out to be an uncommon racial slur, I'm very sorry...

dog in the t-shirt...pipe...

If you google "dog in the water pipe", this is the second thing to appear (after this blog, of course) (From Zazzle)

I don't know who would want this, but I'm sure it's great. If you own one, or know someone interested in such a product, I'd love to hear your opinion on it.
Also, if you have a dog who can actually use a bong all by himself, I'd be interested to hear from you.

All silent on the Western front

The pipes are silent.
So far, every night at around 8, they start to gargle and clunk like the lava in the intestines of Satan, louder than the bowel movements in the bowels of hell. But tonight, they seem quiet - no water, rushing through them to nowhere. Perhaps my radiator is broken, but I don't need it yet, so for now I'll let it go.
I'll miss the fucking thing in winter.