Well, that didn't take long.
Mrs Stevie1 just called to tell me that the new pole arrived and was promptly dropped on the top rail of my newish2 chain link fence, bending the top rail quite badly.
How lucky the crew must have felt to suddenly find themselves under the scrutiny of the not-at-all pleased4 gaze of Harridanus Horriblis Domestica. So lucky they immediately broke off pole replacement and undertook fence repair, in fact.
Mrs Stevie reports that they have put in the new pole but left up the old one pending the moving of the wires.
Great
No sooner does the phone company finally get a pole guyed in line with the actual pole than they revert to the system they had before Mercedeslad announced the start of his driving career, in which they guy the pole a foot to one side of the centerline of the pole itself, resulting in a tendancy for the pole to lean as time progresses, putting the wires to my house under tension and periodically ripping them out of the cleat. This was the reason we made LIPA move the bloody power lines. The bleeding pole leaned more every year because it was being pulled over by its own fbleeping guy wires.
Well done that team
And well done that stupid fbleeping tart who couldn't keep her minuscule brain on the single most important task when it is behind the wheel of a moving vehicle.
Driving.
I tell you, I'm getting pretty fbleeping sick of clearing up scrap vehicle bits from my lawn, just because some twbleept's parents couldn't work out for themselves that their kid was still too fbleeping young and/or too fbleeping shbleept-thick to drive on their own.
And to cap it all the bloody cracked pole is still standing like a sword of Damocles, waiting to generate a lawsuit. All this aggro and the bastards left the fbleeping thing up.
Where's the Tylenol?
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