"Dad," said Scaryduck Jr, "Mum says you've got to go out and get some free poop from the council tip."
Oh. God. No.
It was true. The council was giving away free crap today, and I had to get my shovel down there pretty sharpish, beat the pensioners off with the sharp end and bring back as much as the car could carry, or I would be the one ending up in the big hole in the Scary garden.
So, off I went to the tip for some of Weymouth and Portland Borough Council's finest muck and brought back six sacks full of warm, steaming crud. She was right, there was some amazing filth there.
You must think my life's a real bed of roses. It ought to be, with all that crap on our garden.
While I'm here, could some kind soul please tell me why myself and Gert are listed on the no-way-tacky-at-all UK Dogging website? And yes, I do know what dogging is.
Staggering off the last train into Weymouth on Friday night, I had the misfortune to arrive home just as after-the-pub television started. Just when you thought TV couldn't get any worse, Channel Four gave us Dirty Sanchez, a Welsh version of Jackass. Two words for you: Naked Paintball. I need say no more.
New Weebl and Bob. And cows. Lots of cows that make the beefs.