As an insufferable geek, I have decided that boring you with my concerns over the construction of my new barbecue is not enough. Oh no. I now intend to further bore you with near-realtime updates on my progress towards meaty nirvana.

8:04pm. Removed the most obvious spurious packaging and laid out the pieces nicely. Tempted to count all the pieces to see if I've got everything that the instruction booklet says I should, but surely half the fun of these types of endeavour is to get half way through the assembly before being frustrated by the vital missing part.

8:12pm. Gathered the tools mandated by the instruction booklet: cross-head screwdriver, suitable adjustable spanner (I assume this is the same thing as a 'wrench'?*). Opted to add a few extra tools based on my own judgement: unsuitably large wrench (in case I want to properly fuck up any of the nuts), power drill with screwdriver attachment (in case I want to mash any of the screw heads), Guinness in a Hoegaarden glass, Radio 6 (not pictured).

8:45pm. Assembly step 1 (of 18) completed. These are by no means the worst self-assembly instructions I have had to follow, but they still serve as a reminder of how good Ikea instructions really are. Perspective, eh? Guinness supply dangerously low.

8:56pm. Guinness finished; being replenished. Completed step 2, only to discover that I got step 1 wrong. Redoing step 1.

9:27pm. Step 1 did not readily lend itself to being redone. Apparently machine screws only like being screwed into metal once, and fuck around incessantly if you ever try to make them do it again. Hungry now. Will commence some sort of cooking operation (sadly not al-fresco) and crack on with step 3.

10:08pm. Just had to use the oversized wrench (in step 5). Normal wrench was not big enough to attach the nut to the back of the push-button jobbie behind the control panel. Dinner nearly ready.

10:25pm. Step 6 turned out to be deceptively fiddly – one of those moments when you need an extra hand or two. Managed it eventually with the help of both my thighs and some swearing. Food is ready.

11:11pm. Step 8 being a bitch. Things not lining up. Having to loosen screws in the hope that everything will start playing nicely. Last Action Hero on the TV. What the hell is a Venturi Tube anyway?

11:30pm. Over-tightened a screw in step 9 and stripped the tread a bit. The electrode is now a bit loose on the burner. Does this matter? Hmmm.

Midnight. The barbecue is starting to look a bit like a barbecue. Step 11.

12:30am. Ah, the old use-your-head-plus-one-foot-to-support-the-shelf-you-are-attaching-with-both-hands technique. I'm getting quite fed up with this now.

12:50am. Finally, the basic assembly (steps 1 to 17) is done. Reassuringly, the golden rule of self-assembly has been observed – I have 5 washers left over. The ominous-sounding leak testing is next, but that's going to have to wait until daylight.

11:03am. Hmmm. Leak testing would appear to have to take place outdoors, on the patio. ("WARNING: OUTDOOR USE ONLY!") But it's been pissing down with rain all morning. I will wait.

12:55pm. Stopped raining long enough for me to lug the thing outside, connect it to the gas bottle, and commence the leak testing. Instructions say that I should smear everything with soapy water and look for bubbles to indicate a gas leak. Great, but isn't soapy water full of bubbles anyway? Still, looks OK to me. Final test, FIRE IT UP!

1:07pm. Success! The Beast fired up without incident. Only two attempts at ignition required, although I was surprised that the flame is almost colourless, the sound and heat of a working barbecue is unmistakeable. All I have to do now is sort out the mess that is my patio so that I have somewhere sensible to position it.

Let the meat-fest begin.