1. The nutter on the train. Which came as a bit of a surprise - I thought I was the nutter on the train. A genuinely mad "Anyone seen my camel?" type as well. And as a true nutter-magnet, he sat next to me and mumbled all the way to Poole.
2. A genuine, proper naked lady, standing in her bedroom window as the train rolled up to a red light just outside Wool. I waved. She waved back, realised her predicament, and fled in panic. You could see her flange an' everything.
Best trip to work. Ever.
Ear chewed off by Scaryduck Jr's teacher the other morning, the wrinkled old harpie.
Mrs Banshee: "He's been calling another boy 'gay'. Please could you take it upon yourself to enlighten him on the definition of the word 'gay'."
Me: "Right you are, you haggard old trout. Especially as you'll find that the correct term is 'bumsexualist'."
This is self-same guardian of my child's education who marked him down as 'special needs'. So we took him down to see a specialist where his IQ was measured at 169.
Junior and I had words that evening, where it turned out he was the victim of schoolboy tale-telling without a shred of evidence. No change there, then. He now knows the words "bumsexualist", "turdburglar", "uphill gardener" and "eater of fancy cakes", which he may never have learned were it not for the intervention of his clearly mental teacher.
Isn't education grand?