Dog Sh!t

I knew as soon as I walked into the office that morning that it was me.  That acidic, sting your nostrils kind of  smell…it was coming from me.  “OK, I’ve stood in dog sh!t!” I announced, thinking this would rule out anyone assuming I had mistaken the nappy bin for my handbag (possible, but whilst I accept my daughters ‘movements’ do have a haunting aroma, dog sh!t has a very distinctive smell and if we were to put it on the stench scale baby poop would be a solid 5/10 and dog sh!t well…it’s dog sh!t! Shortly after smearing the aforementioned dog sh!t around the office I officially declared war against my neighbour and his horse sized dog.  Whilst I’m not a dog owner I do have a secret weapon that poops around the clock and trust me it’s much harder to clean than horse manure…I mean dog sh!t.


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