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It's the eight year anniversary of the day I found a toilet especially for me.
I seem to have got more attractive since I was 50. But that might just have been a bad day.
After dropping the kids off at school, I took Wolfie for her morning walk (honestly, I do everything in this family: the dishwasher, the bins... everything). She did a nice solid poop on a patch of ground outside someone's flat, but I was easily able to dispose of it. It was right next to where the cum bin used to be. But there's another bin a bit further up now, which does not accept cum. One of the many things that Starmer has done wrong for this country is make it the law for us to dispose of our cum at home. Once Reform is in you'll be able to cum wherever you want. You just won't have free health care. It's a fair swap.
We went on through the graveyard and out the other side. Suddenly Wolfie decided that the fairly prodigious poo that she'd done already was not enough and she squatted down on the grass verge and deposited a large plop of dog diarrhoea. I suppose it would have been more weird if it had been the diarrhoea of a different animal.
I am a good dog owner and as difficult as it is to scoop runny dog shit into a plastic bag, I did my best. Sadly as I leant over to do so, my reading glasses, which you may have noticed I like to keep perched on the top of my head, fell off and landed directly in the poop. They got a bit splattered.
If I were a richer man I might have considered leaving the glasses where they were, perhaps claiming it as some kind of modern art. But those glasses cost £80 (I got a free pair too, but I don't know where they are) and even though glasses go on your face and near your eyes, exactly the places you don't want dog poop (unlike the many places where you would welcome it), I had to rescue them.
I gingerly picked them up via a non-dog poop splattered bit and then attempted to carry them the mile home without touching the poop. I was also carrying a bag of soft poop in one hand and a dog lead.
It was a horrible start to the day.
Then as I got to the bin I needed to move things around a bit and had to hold a different part of the glasses. I thought I had chosen a clean bit. But I was wrong.
Now I had to walk almost a mile home with dog shit specs and dog shit on my fingers. I had no tissue or hand gel so I wiped them on some weeds. I wasn't convinced that had made them clean enough.
I had to avoid touching anything with the dirty hand, whilst carrying the dirty glasses and holding a dog lead. No man is more cursed than me. No one in the world had a worse morning than me.
I got home, washed my hands, washed my glasses, sprayed my glasses with kitchen cleaner, washed them again and then left them on the side. Would I ever be able to wear them again?
If water has a memory of what was in it once, then surely glasses have a memory of being sprinkled with the waste from a canine's bowels. However much I cleaned them, would they ever be wearable again?
Well I can't afford to buy another pair and I've lost my other pair, so dog shit memory glasses for me.
And no, I didn't take photos. At least I have spared you that/
Newsround today, looking forward to what we'll get up to in the next lockdown.
