It is 2.30 am in Western Australia right now. Yesterday I decided to clean out my garage as it was becoming a real shit-hole. Kid's toys, empty boxes, old stuff that never gets used, you all know what I'm talking about, except of course the anally retentive among you who would never allow such shit in your garage unless it had a designated spot. I admire such organised people but sadly my kids have no such traits and throw anything and everything in there that they can't think of anywhere else to put. Does that sentence make sense? Well it does at 2.30 am. Anyway, I digress. The garage was in a shit state: In my wisdom, and because I'm on holiday for 2 weeks mainly to look after previously mentioned un-anally retentive children as they are on the final two weeks of their school summer holidays, I thought it a good time to sort it. I'll return to anally retentive later! I thought, in order to maintain a tidy space it was important to get as much stuff off the floor as possible. I duly erected 2 large shelves to get said stuff off the floor: Now, I don't obviously know how many of you have been to Western Australia but its a very dry and dusty part of the world, particularly the southern half of the state in summer time. The wind picks up in the afternoon, or arvo, to any Aussies reading, and covers everything in a film of dust and fine sand. If you stand still long enough you too will be covered. Also, lots of leaves and garden debris had blown in over time and the place had become a haven for insects, spiders and even had a small wasps nest inside. Enough is enough I thought. This is no place for my trusty and loyal wee Strom to rest up. The sweeping brush was out and while Mrs went off to the gym, I swept out some of the garage, insect kill spray in hand in case of emergencies- there are some nasty buggers over here you know, and pretty much everything is keen to see what you taste like. About an hour and an extremely dry throat later I decided it was time for my first beer. I deserved it FFS! It was cold, it was wet, it was German. It went down beautifully. I am still talking about beer! I carried on sweeping, swallowing dust, insect spray and the occasional swig of the cold German to wash it all down. Time soon came for me to put my brush down and retire for the evening. One more beer I thought. A nice treat as I watched The Bank Job with Mrs. Great movie incidentally! Soon it was time for bed. Out like a light. Mrs couldn't even tempt me with her wylie ways. That bit is made up actually. Unfortunately after 13 years of wedded bliss, best years of my life of course, there is little or no tempting, wylie or otherwise, these days! Then it came to me! The pain. First I didn't want to wake. I fought it. But the dull ache became a sharp burning sensation, a bit like someone had pushed a red hot poker up my arse and into my abdominal cavity. I knew the signs and with much glee I jumped out of bed and made the lonely but fast walk to the loo. I'm not convinced it was the beer that did it, maybe a combination of the West Aussie dust, fly spray and the cold German but that is why I am writing this crap at now 3.10 am. At least no-one can call me anally retentive today!