So we moved to the country and my dad’s all, I wanna be country folk…
… so he buys this Barbour jacket, you know, the green waxed ones that the queen wears when she goes on holiday in Scotland.
And he wears it to go fishing.
And it STINKS. I mean, comparing it to something that died would be a compliment. It’s fetid.
It’s not like the country doesn’t smell bad enough. Fresh country air? Yeah, right, if you like the smell of horse poo.
And now he is trying to do something in the garden and he keeps on wallking through the living room wearing the I-smell-like-the-living-dead-with-bonus-vomit-scent jacket…
Please, Dad. Some of us are trying to breathe.