Postman God, Postman God, Postman God and his Black and White Moses.... (There ought to be a law about that!)

Member Name: Muffin_the_Mule

Product:	There ought to be a law about that!
Date:	30/12/07 (201 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: There are these, yes.

Disadvantages: And these too.

If God was a Postman, and Moses was Jess......




Before there is light, there is dark. And then after the coffee and the banana, the dark becomes light, Thy work is done and the day shall begin in earnest pursuit of an early finish.



Thou see a man diligent in his business? thou shall stand before kings of kingdoms; although thou shall not stand before mean housewives who telleth him not to walk across their unkempt gardens.



And verily it was told unto thee that there are rules. And the rules must be told to the masses of sinners. And the rules are thus:



Thee shall have no other post arrive before thou, and therefore thou cannot complain if I arrive "15 minutes late". Later than whom? thou can only see thou delivering thyne mail, thyne magazines of dubious inscription and thyne inscribed 'Valued customer' pizza delivery menu.



Thou shalt not watch too many daytime gardening programs and attempt thy hand at a feature of water, unless thyne budget is large and thyne owns a house, not a flat.



Thou should endeavour to resist any temptation to "try thy hand" at complicated garden makeovers "as seen on T.V" without proper and considered and sensible instruction from a man of more hesitant thinking.
Any attempt to gravel thy drive with a layer of small pebbles 8 of thy holy inches deep will lead to a plague of local cats and verily thy postman shall know your house and occupants as the 'stinks of cat poo drive'.



Thou shalt not build your house, nor buy a house, if your driveway has and incline of 45 of our holy degrees or greater.
Thy driveway is thy access to thou's Devine letterbox, and what goes down thy driveway must return up. And and down next door. And up. The people of our lands must build their houses on the flat lands, or at least fill the land in first before building thy houses. Or something.
Thy hath no need to build thy houses with such localised steepness.




Thou shalt not covet thy amount of, and regularity of thy neighbours mail.
For thou knows, thy neighbours signs thy selves to free magazine subscriptions in all the names in thy family so that thy neighbours gets lots of mail, and thyne postman must negotiate with thyne lowdown letterbox with 4 copies of Kleeneezee weekly updates, 4 copies of Can Opener Owners Gazette and a weekly refresh of the holy take-away scriptures.




Thou shall not allow thy domesticated canine companions to scare the holy shit out of thy postman by allowing it to assault thy gas bill as it peaks through thy letter box, still being manoeuvred by thy now jumpy delivery personell.
Thy should know that on tomorrows delivery, thy postman shall be prepared for battle and his first tactic is to hold onto thy precious letters and attempt to extract thy growling canine through thy letterbox.



Thou shall fix thyne f@*&g broken gate for your postman's shins are not plated with metals nor made of stone. If thy gate gets on your holy tits every time thy leaves thou kingdom, then bloody fix it.
Thy postman delivereth thy Giro Cheque, so thy postman knows thy is not committed to employment for the daylight hours. So what is thyne doing with thy time?



Thou shalt not try to build a rockery out of old mattresses in thy front garden. This, St. Malcom of Giro, does not constitute work.



Thou shall consider thy thoughts whilst thy wait diligently for thy canine companion to finishing curling out a holy turd. If thy thoughts do not include reaching for and collecting thy new pocket warmer, then thy becomes cursed to be observed stepping into thy fresh poo as thy postman distracts you with some chirpy early morning banter. And verily there will be laughter from afar, of course.



If these rules are follwed, there will be no more war, and we can all go home to bed.

Summary: Hmm....