Oh boy! Zack strikes again. My cousin graciously invited us to a celebratory lunch at the world's best restaurant yesterday : The Fat Duck in Bray.
We're sitting down, enjoying a lovely glass of chilled champagne, and I get a whiff of something which smells awfully like Zack. I lean over to see and sure enough, it is oozing out the top of his trousers! In the Fat Duck! Sometimes I think I'm doomed to one exasperating and embarassing moment of fecal revoltingness, after another.
Oh, and by the way, I'm still supporting Pampers nappies. You'd think they'd get some sort of performance appraisal at this time of year ? ! !
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