Just after peoples thoughts. I'd probably prefer a circular saw. Very efficient.
I've enjoyed this thread cos it reminds me of a crazy day a few years back.
Working as a contractor for xxxxx I spent time at different locations all over the Sydney Metropolitan area, including the abode of the OP, Fibroman, who I'm sure will remember this particular day like it were yesterday.
Anyway, I was out Penrith way fixing some pipes in Fibromans mums kitchen. Fibroman himself was a bit younger then, and was known to all as Fibroboy, the superhero of the west. He used to ride around the burbs on his pushbike gathering bits of broken fibro from abandoned houses, stringing them together, painting a big F on the front and running around like a headless chicken, tripping and falling over, having a great time. He was, and still is, "special".
So on this fine day there I was in the kitchen, sweating in my old Sea Eagles jersey in the summer heat, when I felt a breeze on my cheek, combined with the sweet meaty odour of sausage rolls. I turned around to see old mama Fibro standing there, stark naked, sweating like a big brown michelin man, eye twitching, greasy hair smeared back over her red mottled scalp.
She tilted her head to the side, licked her lips and breathlessly moaned "How's it goin?"
Before I could answer her hand flew out and grabbed my manhood, squeezing tightly, and her face leaned into mine. I could smell nothing but sausage roll, red wine and vomit.
"Wanna make a few extra bucks?" she asked, raising her pencil thin eyebrows.
Being pretty skint at the time I hesitated, weighing up the possibilities. She saw my hesitation and said "400 dollars. All you gotta do it give me one. But I'm on me rags so you gotta crack me up the xxxxxx"
I thought about if for a second, glancing over at my tools. Suddenly I got an idea.
"Sure Mrs Fibro, I'm can give you what you need. Just lean over there and I'll take you to heaven and back. Just one thing though - you can't look at me - I'm shy, see" I said
She thought about if for a second then started to smile, subconciously pulling at one of her big hairy nipples. Without saying a word she turned around, placed her hands on the bench and lifted a big yellow and bruised leg onto the kitchen stool.
I quickly grabbed my hammer, and, holding my breath and trying not to look, I eased the handle end in, slowly building up pace. A few minutes passed by while I pumped away and looked out the window, holding my nose with my other hand and trying to ignore the moaning and grunting as it grew louder.
Suddenly there was a loud shriek coming from behind me, and I looked around to see young Fibroboy standing there in his fibro superhero suit, staring in shock! Soon his eyes turned to rage and he ran at me, screaming like a banshee. I quickly pulled the hammer out and turned to face him, but as he ran toward me young Fibroboy got caught up in his suit and tripped over.
As if in slow motion the scene unfolded before my eyes, as young Fibroboy stumbled and tripped his way towards his mums wide-open back end. Then, with a wet thunking sound, I watched in horror as his head went straight up her rear, all the way up to the neck. But instead of stopping, the oblivious Mrs Fibro start to pump harded and harder as poor Fibroboy tried to pull his head out.
I'm not sure how it ended because I got the hell out of there. But it seems Fibroboy came out alive, and is still fighting on as Fibroman.
So I apologise Fibroman - what you experienced was something that no young man should have to go through. After that terrible day, I fully understand your vendetta against the Sea Eagles. I only hope that we can meet again one day to make amends. But please, don't bring your mum.
