I told you recently about how I have become a technical “go to” guy for my friends. Well, I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression about me, as I also have quite a bit of brawn to go with these brains.
Which is why Amy, she of the not-very-online online account opening experience asked a favour of me by MSN messenger.
“Are you free to lend me some muscle tonight?”
Of course, I was wise to this shameless ploy to massage my male ego, but I decided to help her anyway because I am a nice person. With lots of manly muscles.
“Sure, what do you need?”
“I’ve bought a running machine and need some help getting it upstairs.”
Ha! The feeble girl cannot lift a little bit of exercise equipment! Oh the irony! I did not point this out though, as that would be cruel and uncaring, plus she has an extremely violent temper and access to lots of knives.
“Sure, no problem, I’ll pop round after work.”
I made my way round expecting to leave the engine running for what could obviously be no more than a two minute job. Upon entering her front room however, I changed my opinion, as I was confronted by a box big enough to house a Somalian family of ten. At first I thought it was a cardboard garage. Alas, no, it was the running machine.
“It’s really quite heavy, I told you.” she said whilst watching me try and move the box just an inch in any direction.
“Would you like a cold drink?” she continued whilst I got redder and redder in the face.
I began to suspect that perhaps the box did in fact contain a Somalian family of ten and so looked at the packaging for clarification, where it read, “Team lift only” right next to the sign that said 129kg.
I am not very good at converting weights, but I think 129kg equals one very fat fucking bastard.
It took me and my flatmate 30 minutes of extensive “To me, to you, to you, to me” Chuckle Brother type hilarity (for Amy), lots of sweating, heaving and red faces (for me and flatmate) before finally getting it into the spare bedroom.
If she ever moves house she’s going to have to leave it where it is.
{ 26 comments… read them below or add one }
129KG – H&S dictates one man should lift no more than 25KG…….
So if you end up with a bad back will she massage it better for you
Never trust a woman who wants something.
Did Amy stand ther saying “Coooeee, Mr Shifter!!!”.?
Can I revert your attention to ‘Doing a favour for a friend #1′?
I am still internet-less at home. As your muscles are probably gubbed, I only want you for your brain!
I’m sure you have heard that lots??????
AFC – She actually had massage lessons a few years ago, but I don’t fancy my chances…
Oli – That sentence is three words too long
Murphy – It was more a case of, “Mind the door frame” and “Don’t scratch the walls wit hit!”
TJ – Like I’ve said before, it was working when I left, I can’t be held responsible for user
stupidityerror.Are you sure your friends really like you for you? It sounds suspiciously like they keep you close because you are good at lending muscle/plugging stuff in.
My shoes are undone. Come quick.
Léonie – I do have my suspicions. And they all wear Velcro fastening shoes now, at my insistence.
For the record, Mr A doesn’t mention all the favours we do for him.
He saves that for his other website, right?
http://www.mrangrywithaonetrackmind.com
You got that right. His friendship has a limit!
TJ – For the record, when they do some, I’ll mention them.
Léonie – I have decided I will join the sex-blog set soon enough, probably when I start having some.
TJ – Everyone, she admitted she was a friend!!
Were you covered in man-dew at the end?
She should have taken the phone number of the deliveryman.
That which does not kill us makes us stronger.
It didn’t kill you, so feeling a bit more muscle mass after?
greavsie – positively glistening in the stuff
z – you know, with hindsight I have no idea why she didn’t say to them, “If you could just pop it upstairs into the spare bedroom that’ll be fine!”
BoT – Oh yes, I’m like a desk-bound He-Man.
Ha! Seen that process when I moved in to my place now. The people beneath us had two poor skinny guys manouver one of those things down two flights.
‘Course, it was about that same time that my roommate and I (I’m the tallest at 5’3”, and weigh the most at 125lbs) were huffing up and down three flights with bed- frames/couch/tables/heavy ass shit.
I think they laughed harder at us….
The delivery men wouldn’t take it upstairs. They said it was too heavy for them. (They were both 6’2″).
Ldbug – This one is massive. It’s like the ones in the gym.
Amy – So two massive professional movers-of-heavy-stuff said it was too heavy for them, and then you contact me?
Thanks for that…
Aw, Angry, that just means Amy thought you were more of a man then those guys;-)
Angry – Amy thought you were more of a man than two muscle bound 6’2 blokes. Was it an exceptional tight t-shirt you were wearing that day?
Haha. Men are really only on this planet as lifting (add – reaching, screwing, unscrewing, hammering, starting, pushing… etc) machines.
Heh, screwing…
Ldbug – Yes. Obviously.
EP – The guns were breaking loose…
Simon – This is why we are born with B&Q loyalty cards.
Ldbug – of jars, obviously.
Obviously *innocent face*
Ahh, bored at work today..hence so many comments! 30min to go……
Hmmmm.. I don’t think it’s a running machine at all. I think it’s one of those ‘real dolls’ and you’ve just helped him up the stairs!
Ldbug – feel free to pass the time here…
sooz – I doubt it, unless she has a fetish for really fat men. That look like a running machine.