“Don’t touch anything!” a father angrily implores his child. Twice.

Where am I?

An antiques shop? The British Museum? An Al-Qaeda bomb-making factory?

No, I’m in the Ealing Road toilets at Griffin Park, home of Brentford Football Club (you know, the pub with four grounds on each corner).

I have experienced the mental anguish caused by years of supporting a team as perenially awful as Brentford, but I never thought following the Bees may be putting me at risk of catching cholera or dissentry. Maybe we should have asked Geldof for some of the Live 8 money?

Brentford did win on the weekend though, a 1-0 thrashing of the mighty Lincoln City, a win that keeps us in touch with the top half of the division four table.

There were a few notable bright spots: left back Lewis Emanuel had an impressive debut uniting the fans in praise of him, a bit like how his namesake Victor Emanuel II united Italy (that’s a little gag for all you fans of 19th century European history).

Sammy Moore’s goal may help him get back in the starting 11 and Alan Connell had another decent game.

But these rays of sunshine aside, Bees fans don’t seem that happy a bunch at the moment.

Promotion looks a long shot and the general consensus seems to be that we will probably be stopping in the basment division for a few more years to come.

Terry Butcher is yet to really win the fans over and Lee Thorpe, our striker/nightclub bouncer has been afforded the kind of welcome to Griffin Park that Harold Shipman might expect at an old people's home.

Simon ‘Chubby’ Brown, our keeper, does not exactly inspire huge amounts of confidence either.

As my very clever nickname for him suggests, Chubby is built like a female shot putter from the eastern bloc and he isn't up to the standard of Ben Hamer, the youthful (and extremely thin) loanee, who excelled at the start of the season.

My Gillingham-supporting mate looked at me with genuine pity in his eyes when I told him we had signed Chubby, and when you are looked down on by a Gillingham fan, it really makes you realise how low you have sunk.