After my shower last night, I sat in my towel, enjoying a drink and some wrestling matches on SKY sports gold - really good stuff from the seventies. Watching Big Daddy against Giant Haystacks made me ponder the irresistible force paradox. I really wanted to know what would happen if an irresistible force met an immovable object so I poured some Domestos into a pot of Activia yoghurt.
Things really fucking kicked off; I had to drop it after a few seconds when it started bubbling; I thought it was going to explode. Then it stained the new kitchen floor but I daren't clean it up because I'm sure it was letting off fumes so I grabbed a copy of The Sun from the recycling bin, turned round and tripped over the bloody dog. It yelped and snapped at me, tugging off my towel; I tried to force its head away from my groin but slipped and landed hard on the kitchen floor, winding myself. I lay there, crotch totally plastered in bleachy yoghurt, panting away, desperately trying to stop the dog from biting my privates.
Although we are now getting divorced and I am unable to see the children, I am actually quite grateful to my wife for walking in at that particular moment and distracting the dog with her screams.