Last night, I went round to pick him up for another pub visit, but before we left he sifted through some post on the kitchen worktop and found an A4 sized envelope that he thought must be his St Johns first aid certificate. He opened the brown envelope and roared with laughter to discover a slight error:
His name is MARTIN BUTTERFIELD...
Not wanting to go on the course in the first place, this only rubbed salt into the wound, so I couldn't resist asking him not to blow up and if he had any strategic plans on what to do about it!!!
Today, I'm most angry about: Having aching thighs from too much circus training.
Grrr-O-Meter Rating: 2/10