The Secret Stash of Empty Bottles

Up late after film night, we all showered and were fed bacon and eggs on toast.
We used to do a lot of gardening in the old house when we could spend time in it and it seemed like a sensible investment, but Bud has lost interest in our little front patch, Jof likes to keep it nice and I do what I'm told if I think it'll get me an X-box.
We tidied and swept and raked and cut back the shrubs and pulled out the weeds and found lots of beer bottles and assorted rubbish. It looks like our little low wall is an ideal place to sit, if you're a feckless teenager (or even one with fecks) or someone like the unkempt chap in the pub garden in Gosport who asked us if we had a spare Rizla. But then the shrubbery (nobody expects the Knights who say Ni) is just asking for bottles to be hid in it so we cut it back.
I did have my afternoon run but got stitches and met Elizabeth and Laughing Boy Thomas and it's nice to see familiar faces as you puff your way round.
Bonus film night 'Paul', the Simon Pegg comedy with the stoned rude alien trying to get home. Lot of sci-fi related gags that I understood, and lots I didn't.