In Bed with Jocasta Read Online Free Page B

the Vatican.
    The only catch is that the Bloke-O-Matic is supplied in bits in a flat-pack box, and it emerges that you need a Bloke-O-Matic and about $500 worth of tools in order to put it together. But, still, some people have been lucky enough to somehow manoeuvre Bolt E into Hole C and end up with something featuring four intertwined legs and two vices (remember: still Vatican approved).
    And it’s only natural that these people believe they can do anything. Even build a bathroom.
    Which is how I found myself digging trenches for the sewerage pipe and considering the need for some new building regulations, specifically designed for the nation’s Do-It-Yourselfers. such as:
    Regulation 1: By all means, blame your tools
    I’m sorry, it’s not just that we are bad tradesmen: our tools are stuffed. I couldn’t help what happened with the joists. I do not own a proper carpenter’s plane. They cost $65. Which is why I tried to plane the joists using a chainsaw. (This, I swear, is true.) It’s a measure of my skill that the levels are not out by more.
    Regulation 2: Mistakes multiply
    When you look at our work, sure, you think we’re idiots; that no-one could do a job this bad. Just remember: mistakes multiply. The bathroom’s a disaster because the ridge beam is two degrees out. Which is why the tin didn’t fit. Which is why the guttering looked odd. Which is why the walls weren’t straight. If I had better tools …
    Regulation 3: It’s not the roof of the Sistine Chapel
    Or the walls. Or the floor. In other words, ‘after a while you won’t care’. The welcoming groan of the talking toilet is like the song of a bird, signalling the start of the day. The wonderfully madcap tiling is a delight. The gaps in the skirting boards are a chance to experience the sweet breezes of early spring.
    Regulation 4: There’s a brand-name product for every task
    And, given men’s fear of reading instructions, the manufacturers usually bury a guide-to-using-it right there in the title. Brand names such as Sticks Real Fast. Or spray on Quick. Or, my personal favourite, Selley’s No More Cracks — a pair of elastic-waisted work pants, guaranteed never to ride down, even when you’re crouching to get under the sink.
    Regulation 5: Measure twice, cut once
    Well, that’s the old rule but, for reasons of space, they never printed the full DIY version: ‘Measure twice, cut once, try to install, find it still doesn’t fit, throw board to the ground, shout at partner, buy new bit at hardware store, endure sarcasm because you hadn’t realised you really need a blondgit bolt, cut again, and install.’
    Perhaps you don’t believe anybody can be this stupid? Why not come over to my place and see the big stack of treated pine, all of it cut to 1.2 metres in length (for a pergola designed to be 1.4 metres).
    Back at the hardware store, the men have removed their leather aprons, and are dancing around a large display of metric grogans, their spondles aquiver. I’d love to join them, yet my solitary vice calls me home.

Travel Sickness
    B atboy has discovered that his mum’s new computer is fitted with a DVD player. Sitting on her floor, with the speakers just right, it’s like the ultimate cinema experience. He’s also discovered that you can watch the film with German subtitles — thus qualifying as language homework.
    Alas, we’ve only got one DVD film — a copy of
The Birdcage,
the Robin Williams comedy about a gay couple whose son marries into the Moral Majority. I fear the lad is developing a somewhat specialised vocabulary —
Schwulen im Militär
(gays in the military);
Abtreibungsarzt
(abortion doctor) and
Transvestitenklub
(transvestites’ club).
    My question is: are these terms which will come up on the Year 7 exams?
    Maybe I should buy a different sort of movie — one with lots of talk about putting your pen on the desk of your teacher before opening the window (or
Fenster).
Going on the evidence of his German