Being of sound mind, I have never believed any of this airy-fairy, wishy-washy climate change claptrap peddled by beard-stroking lentil-munchers.
But the picture on the right, of a speedboat in a wood at Styrrup, got me worried.
There can be only two possible explanations for this bizarre discovery.
Either it was dumped there by filthy, worthless scrotes who think nothing of blotting our beautiful woodland will all manner of junk, or it wound up there due to rising sea levels.
It looks like quite a swanky looking little vessel, so I can’t imagine anyone just wanting to dump it.
I’d have kindly taken it off their hands if they didn’t want it.
I can just picture Lady Grundi and I whizzing around the sea at St Tropez in it, me at the controls in my Speedos, my bronzed, oil-lathered body glistening in the Mediterranean sun.
But that’s by the by. We’re talking about climate change, and the possibility that in just a few short years Worksop could be on the coast.
Worksop-by-Sea, jewel of the North Sea Riviera.
Like what Cleethorpes and Skeggy were like before they were reclaimed by the unforgiving sea, but not as classy.
If you walk around town today, it’s almost as if we are already preparing for this coastal future.
We’ve already got amusement arcades and a plethora of shops selling all manner of pointless tat.
We’ve also got more chip shops than you can shake a batter-coated sausage at.
What we need next is a pier. One like the one at Santa Monica would be nice.
The town will become a tourist Mecca. I can’t wait. Let’s do all we can to speed up this climate change. Come on, people, pump carbon into the air like there’s no tomorrow.
It’s in Worksop’s best interests.