Paul O’Neill

@paul-o.bsky.social

Former dog sofa. Spondy. Dementia carer. “Worst Housing Officer in the world”, okayest supported housing manager. Misplaced Geordie, adopted Devonian.

I’ve started the process of topping off an 8 or 9ft high bay bush to a more reasonable 5ft ish. An unsightly chunk has been removed and the green bin is full. I cannot stop sweating. This is going to take me weeks.

Working at the project once again. Not a quiet Sunday as one of the residents is having a psychotic episode. He’s just thrown open the door stark bollock naked and screamed YEEEEEAH at no one, saw me, gave me a thumbs up then slowly closed the door while maintaining eye contact.

If you use a Porto potty and that blue water splashes up on you, you are forever unclean. In a thousand years, archaeologists could dig up your remains and they would know. God will not let you in to heaven and the devil will not let you in hell. This is how ghosts are made.

So the main reason I had to sort the wiper linkage was to get through the MOT. The power steering fluid reservoir decided to dump its guts while on the ramp so to get it passed they have Frankensteined a part from a different car and it’s all held together with cable ties.

Had to get the wiper linkage sorted on the old Volvo so I’m loitering around the nearby marshes. Lots of panicky dog walkers shouting at their very muddy dogs to not bother me. Madam please, I am very recently dogless and would be delighted to say hello to your stinking slobbering mess.