R FOR ASKEY

I realise I didn't even touch on the community meeting. It turns out it is not the 'punkies' who have torn all the letter boxes from the wall but the 'effing bleeder' who I thought it was in the beginning but was persuaded otherwise. Jesus said his son came home and saw the bleeder riding the boxes like he was on a motorcycle, which I guess can only be imagined once you get past our front door which is like entering some other dimension or labyrinth as anything is possible once you have achieved this. The new letterboxes took seven hours,two men and many euros to be installed and along with the 7 million it cost to erect a climbing frame for monkeys at some zoo in Scotland recently I wonder if I am in the right job. The letter boxes weren't put in properly so will have to be done again.The president proposed an installation of a communal de-scaler which hopefully will rid us of the limescale scourge but which prompted a half hour debate on the merits of vinegar. Someone else said they had heard a rumour that a 'botellon' was held in the garage. Henderson was screaming that he wanted a key to the room which would house the de-scaler as he didn't trust any of them to clean it out which will be required once it has been put in and considering it took four months for the president not to paint over 'Marcos we will kill you' on the front door it doesn't bode well. The next day we saw the new president painting over the grafitti and were left wondering what is it with some of them? As my friend Susana says, ' you know what I hate about the Spanish? That you can't ask even ask them 'what time is it?' for even that is wasting their wonderful time'. This is proved whenever we wait with the car for the garage door to open and a convoy scrapes its way past us tearing their wing mirrors and aerials off along the adjacent wall.