This is what happens when you put a fuckin matelot in chare of anything...including his own dinner. These are the words spoken to me by my irate manager one bright sunny afternoon a few years ago. I was one of the area managers of the Keep north Warwickshire clean project that was instigated as a means to get long term unemployed youths back into a work environment in North Warwickshire. Part of the duties of one of my five gangs was to clean the car park in Water Orton, that was adjacent to the Railway Station. Every day the lads would complain that this bloke with his two dogs would stroll across and the dogs would crap. I had a word with the geezer and he said that if I sent him a summons he would just pay and that would be it. Flash arrogant bastard I thought, so next day he comes and in front of all his dogs relieved themselves ( thats shit Stan). I follows him back to his house and posted the whole weeks worth through his letter box, the fuckin smell was suffocating from the street side so fuck knows what it smelt like inside by the time he came home. When confronted with my action by my manager, the head honcho who was there as well and an ex three ringer said the heading sentence to my boss. Then he burst out laughing and invited me for drinkies at his house. In that job I had the pleasure to meet Captain Charles Featherston dilke , the chap who coordinated the Tristan DE Cuna affair, and who died in 2007 aged 85. His family live in a private castle in Warwickshire and he invited me up there once. As its not open to the public (1 day a year) I went and got lashed up to fuck. He wrote to my boss and told him I was an endearingly strange person with very set but debatable values on life. If I understood him I would know whether he was a cunt or not. Any how why was being a matelot a drawback/virtue to your life or situations.