Doogal-Dwane is no more. He currently resides in a big yellow bucket in the boot of a random wonderful nurses car. He will be plopped in an incinerator soon to turn into particles of drain wormie that all around will breathe in with their morning cornflakes. I’m sure the Sun could make a tabloidy headline out of that ; )
Anyway tis gone. It was like having a fiery poker pulled out but was in actual fact a few millimetres across and no more a centimetre inside. I can now do a slightly more free old lady shuffle and wear clothing that can be put on over my head. Toot toot!
Time to paaaaarty.. well OK sit down stairs in a relaxed position and get up to pee with careful abandon. In my book that’s a party.