Monday, April 17, 2006

plumber's crack or brickie's crack

i was having this argument with the cook on the weekend. she'd bought a couple of pairs of hipster type jeans, cause they were on special. like who cares if they fit, but they were on special hehehe

so every time she bends over or crouches down in the kitchen (which is often, everything is low) she's pulling them up or pulling down her shirt, or both. when i come into the galley for something or other (well i was bored, when the crew get bored, we annoy each other) she thinks i'm checking out her plumber's crack. i say for one, if i was, i'd be saying woohoo! nice plumber's crack. and for two, isn't it a brickie's crack?

i prove the first because she bends over again to, um, well, i have no idea, but i say woohoo! nice brickie's crack :-) (well, she's as cute as a basketfull of kittens, tidy as a 1994 ss 900 ducati and as smart as, um, the analogy doesn't immediately come to mind, lets just say she's a cute, smart, bombshell) the second we argue about. i don't see too many plumbers in action. but i used to be a labourer on a building site, and i've seen a few brickies and brickies' labourers in action. in summer, in the dump i lived in as a kid, they only wore the shortest shorts, rolled down and up, for maximum skin cancer action.

i think i'm really starting to enjoy my life. work hard, play hard, stay single, check out the cute chickies. look lots, but don't touch at all. hell, it works for me. goddamn, i love chickies

after a 4 day weekend on the boat, long days, long nights, i'm grinning like a cheshire cat on crack

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