Monkey man and old Itchy

Monkey man and old Itchy

In my career in the construction industry I had the displeasure of employing some of the biggest idiots who had been created by parents who should have been spayed at birth.

One was named Martin – an Irishman. I suffered the fool for two months before sacking the twat. In that time it would take me two months to actually write down his daily disasters. Of average height and blue eyes that constantly blinked in time with his absorbance of instructions- to no avail, he was white as white with dark hair. Not on his back but just about everywhere else.

He claimed to be a fully qualified plasterer. His brain was plastered. The idiot still now and then tries to friend me on FB!

Moving on quickly – before I threw the idiot out, we  (me and the other lads), pulled a stunt on him.

On the way home from work we would pass a knocking car park. All legal. Tarts in vans flashing flesh for cash.

We all chipped in and at the height of summer with Martin only in shorts and covered in glass wool fibres, was duly kicked out the firm waggon, given the 100 and told to get laid.

After wandering among the various vans of whores, he picks one. Gets in and gives us a wave as she drives off into the sunset. Not really – drove 100 meters away and soon enough, to our wicked delight, the passion wagon is bouncing away for an amazing 3 minutes.

He told us – she was going mad – not with passion but itching all over…hah hah

Finally – through the grape vine, I heard he wandered around Munich from one daft job to another and actually booked a two week holiday to Kenya. Which included one week at a beach resort in Mombasa and one week safari.

I have been there and all over the place are HUGE signs saying ‘Don’t feed or tease the monkeys’.

So what does our plasterer do? He has been in the hotel maybe 15 minutes.

Waves a bun at a monkey. It dutifully rocks up. He grabs it by the tail and swings it around!

Well, those of you not from Africa – will not understand that this is not a good idea. (That is a lot of nots.)

Of course – the tribe reacted and next thing you know – he covered not in glass fibres – but very angry monkeys. One sinks some rather long fangs into his right calf.

Cutting to the chase – our hero is rushed to hospital and spends the whole two weeks on crutches with puss and goo dripping out his leg. Flies back to Ireland and was lucky not to have his leg removed due to blood poisoning.

Thick as a brick – he recovered and a few months ago wrote that he went back and climbed Kilimanjaro. Big deal. An eight year old girl did that last week.

But – hey – ask Lady D about the time she did pole dancing in front of that mountain.