We've just waved goodbye to Tony's friend, Alan, who has been with us since Saturday morning, and will not be sadly missed, as he heads back to where he comes from, and where he will hopefully stay.
Manchester is welcome to one of the biggest scumbags I've ever had the misfortune to meet, and although Tony reckons I'm being a bit harsh on his friend, even he secretly admits that he made a terrible mistake allowing such an individual into our home.
Needless to say, Alan arrived empty-handed, claiming that he's probably the poorest man in England, and that if it wasn't for kind-hearted people like us, he would have given up the will to live years ago.
He then proceeced to consume our entire stock of lager, smoke all of our cigarettes, and eat all of our frozen pizzas.
But if wiping out our supply of alcohol wasn't enough, Alan then decided last night to get very drunk at our favourite pub, upsetting most of the other customers in the process.
Even Sid, the landlord, said that on a scale of one to ten, Alan probably ranks at number zero in terms of people who he'd like to meet again.
I've ordered Tony to delete Alan from his list of friends, on his Facebook account, and have warned him that the next time he thinks about inviting another stranger into our home, unless the stranger in question is female, slim, twenty years old, and very sexy, I don't want to know!