A Brick – Often More Useful Than A Pigeon

I have no idea where this post is going to go, but I have two anecdotes each concerning half a brick and I have a bit of a lunch break to tell them.  I doubt the two halves came from same brick, but maybe that’ll add to the mystery.

Anyway.  First story.  There’s a guy who lives near me who owns a haulage company just down the road.  He’s done well for himself having built the business from nothing.  He rewards himself with nice cars.  I’m not sure what he’s driving at the moment but his last two cars were a Ferrari and a beautiful burnt orange McLaren 12C like this one:

2011-McLaren-MP4-12C

The McLaren was in the garage for something and a local youth threw half a brick over the wall of the garage, landing on the McLaren’s roof.  The car was written off.  £168,500 written off due to an argument with a brick.  By all accounts, because of how the panels of the car are built, a damaged roof can well be fatal because of the amount of the rest of the car that would also need to be replaced.

The second story is much closer to home, literally.  My house was nearly finished when we got a phone call saying that one of the windows had been smashed.  It’s reinforced double glazing, so this is no mean feat.

We went round to see what happened.  There was, indeed, a hole in one of the windows at ground floor level – by far the most obvious window for anyone coming past the house.  Inside we found half a brick that was obviously used to make the hole.

However, also on the window were footprints and underneath it were some coins.  The perpetrator obviously tried to kick in the window and, in so doing, his loose change fell out his pocket.  Unfortunately we were unable to collect enough money to fully pay for the damage caused.  Next to the coins was a very random thing.

A dead pigeon.

Yes, a dead bird with a broken neck.  My only assumption was that our vandal was so desperate to get in the house that, having failed to kick the window in he decided that the next best option was to batter it with a bird.  He then found the brick, broke the window but still couldn’t get in, so gave up.

So here’s the moral of the story.  Bricks are better at breaking things than pigeons.

Or shall I tell another story and come up with a more cheesy moral?  OK, OK, let’s try this…

Remember when I wrote about those NHS approved New Towns back in January sometime? No? Geez, help me out here!  Right, the post is here.  Go read it and I’ll be here when you get back…

Take your time.

OK, great.  You’re back.  You didn’t really read it, did you?

Harrumph.

The NHS are going to build a town to help people with dementia and to help people get fit.  After 6 years of planning, the first brick is going to be laid in July this year.  People are getting fairly excited because they’re finally going to see the physical fruits of their labours.

Me and some friends were going to open a brick business when we grew up.  Out thought was that people were always going to want to construct buildings and most of them include bricks.  We thought it was something that would always be needed.

(Then we had an idea for something much more different and decided that guarenteed virus free and therefore “work travel safe” pornography might also be a fairly good idea.  In the end, none of us have started our own businesses.  I’ve no idea why.)

Michael, come on, back on track, concentrate…

Yeah, so, a more cheesy moral about bricks.  We wanted to sell them to people so that they could build and create.  For me, there’s a great sense of achievement in designing something, working at it and building it and having something there that you can point at and say “I did that”.  Yet, from the same materials (as the McLaren proved) you can do a lot of destructive things.  If given the right tools, make sure you choose the right thing to do with them.  If given the wrong tools (like a pigeon), maybe try to do something else!

That’s awful, I apologise.  I’ll try to be back to tomorrow with something better.

She lives in a fairy tale
Somewhere too far for us to find
Forgotten the taste and smell
Of a world that she’s left behind
It’s all about the exposure the lens I told her
The angles are all wrong now
She’s ripping wings off of butterflies

Keep your feet on the ground
When your head’s in the clouds
Well go get your shovel
And we’ll dig a deep hole
To bury the castle, bury the castle
Go get your shovel
And we’ll dig a deep hole
To bury the castle, bury the castle

So one day he found her crying
Coiled up on the dirty ground
Her prince finally came to save her
And the rest you can figure out
But it was a trick
And the clock struck twelve
Well make sure to build your house brick by boring brick
Or the wolf’s gonna blow it down

Keep your feet on the ground
When your head’s in the clouds

Well go get your shovel
And we’ll dig a deep hole
To bury the castle, bury the castle
Go get your shovel
And we’ll dig a deep hole
We’ll bury the castle, bury the castle

Well you built up a world of magic
Because your real life is tragic
Yeah you built up a world of magic

If it’s not real
You can’t hold it in your hand
You can’t feel it with your heart
And I won’t believe it
But if it’s true
You can see it with your eyes
Oh, even in the dark
And that’s where I want to be, yeah

Go get your shovel
And we’ll dig a deep hole
To bury the castle, bury the castle
Go get your shovel
And we’ll dig a deep hole
To bury the castle, bury the castle

Brick By Boring Brick by Paramore

Comments 3

  1. kStan(ly)

    I don’t know, I thought it was pretty entertaining! And I have to wonder what prior trauma you had with peas to cause your distrust.

    • Haha! I just don’t get peas, so I don’t trust them! They’re hard to eat from a fork and there are other green vegetables that are better for you. They just seem unnecessary! (PS. I’m not saying that it’s entirely rationale distrust! 😜)

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