After the love child of Mr. T and Bluto [the removal man] had left the other day, I discovered, lurking under a bush outside the apartment block, a large cola bottle that had been used as a urinal... quite understandable, I suppose, taking into account the delays during the day: at least it wasn't still warm. I took it carefully inside, emptied it down the loo, washed it and put it in the bin.
I made the mistake of telling the terrible Goddess what had happened. I then had to go through a decontamination process more rigorous than that of a returning astronaut. I was made to strip and stand in the bath. I was hosed down with scalding hot and then cold water. A bottle of disinfectant was emptied over my head, a scrubbing brush found and then used [I thought over enthusiastically on some areas] (That wasn't enthusiasm, Peabrain. Lo, TG Ed.) and then I was dried with a blow torch.
There's nothing like a flame for sterilising all sorts of things. Lo, TG Ed.
[Note to self - keep quiet about everything except the weather or during services of adoration]
