Wardrobe-gate
The sofagate story below reminds me of the time my GF asked me to help move a wardrobe out of her basement flat during a move. She took a load to the new place, leaving me and one other bloke to get the wardrobe out.

We found that it was too high to fit through the door. So, lay it on its side. Now it's too long to turn through 90 degrees for the outer door. So turn it back up in the lobby. But there's a meter box in the way. So turn it on it's back, slide it along, THEN turn it up. And so on, and so on.

Eventually, like one opening a chinese puzzle box, or solving a giant Rubic's Cube, we found a long sequence of slides / turns / twists / rotates / curses / To me / To you's that finally got the damn thing into the great outdoors. It was like delivering a breeched elephant calf, with corners. The whole process took over an hour, and as we slumped panting in the yard, preparing to hump it up the steps to the street, the GF returned.

We described the tortuous process of getting it through the door. I wondered aloud how it got into the flat in the first place.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? It comes apart into three pieces..."
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Thu 15 Jan 2015, 10:48, 3 replies)

So Charlie an me 'ad annaver cappertee
an then we...wennome.
( edjogs Collared doves are shit., Thu 15 Jan 2015, 11:28, closed)

I got a sorta feelin'...
If we remove the ceilin'...
(eViLegion Chief Commissioner of the Scottish Lunacy Board, Thu 15 Jan 2015, 13:30, closed)

the video to this is fucking excellent

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Thu 15 Jan 2015, 14:37, closed)