Got taken to the beach on Friday for game of stick. For the uninitiated, stick involves them throwing a stick into the sea, and me running in and retrieving it. Fucking freezing cold the bastard North Sea is at this time of year. In and out, in and fucking out, soaked wet through, covered in fucking sand I was. The tight bastards. I think they're losing it, seriously. Why on fucking earth would they assume that the first time I bring them back their fucking stick, that I want them to promptly chuck it back in again? It has no logic, look here's your fucking stick, keep hold of it this time will ya? But no, straight back in the fucking North Sea it goes, with me expected to go and get the fucker back. Still, at least afterwards we did pay a visit to Mrs Sausage as they call her, for an al fresco breakfast and a cup of tea. When we got back we watched Pointless Celebrities, have you seen that? Basically it consists of lots of old people who used to be famous, having one last shot...