My Dad is currently fixing my back fence for me.
He has requested that whilst he works, is it possible to listen to something that *quote* "Doesn't sound like a retarded trumpeter caught up in a roller disco derby underneath a construction site."
His way of describing the Wah-Wah podcast I'm currently blaring with the enthusiasm of a loud drunken orgasm.
My response was of course, to blast it a little bit more.
I head to the corner shop to buy more milk and return to find my stereo unplugged and the cable nowhere in sight.
Well played Dad... Well played.