If there’s raw chicken skin and soggy Weetbix oozing out of the lid of your kitchen rubbish bin, you undoubtedly have a partner suffering ‘sport’s-on-the-tele-itis’. Where’s the electronic contraption that senses when pressure is applied to the contents, grabs his ankles in a vice like grip and screams “your turn to empty me, you lazy bastard!” ?
What's your partner leaving for you?
I did not realise you had met my husband........
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