Me Dad was trying to trade some sugar beet yesterday, and the potential buyer wanted to know if it was non-GM, as his customer (a petfood manufacturer) would only buy it if it was. I can tell you with some degree of authority that pets don't care if the stuff is non-GM or not. Most of us eat our own shit given half a chance. The last time I went for a walk on Saltburn beach I had a severed seagull's head in my mouth for Christ's sake. Until me Dad wrestled it from my tightly clenched grip, the tight bastard. I've got no idea of the GM status of my own shit or severed seagull's heads, but I suspect that they don't come will a lot in the way of paperwork if you get my drift. Pooh count: a respectable four, and it's not even teatime yet.
Is a sheepdog and his two-legged is a farmer. Frank was out with him in the tractor drilling wheat last autumn and they unearthed a rusty old lamp. So the farmer hopped out of the cab to have a closer look at it and gave it a little rub on his jacket, as you do, and was amazed to see a genie appear and offer to grant him any wish he wanted. Well the farmer thought for a moment and then said "I'd like the price of wheat to go to £200/tonne!" So the genie sighed but said "OK, I'll sort that out for you then, you greedy bastard" and popped back into his bottle. And the farmer casually tossed the lamp into the back of his cab and got on with his drilling. Well they were out again this morning putting a bit of nitrogen on, Frank and the farmer, and the farmer spotted the lamp and gave it a little rub again, just on the off chance, and you'll never guess what happened, the genie popped out again, and said that he'd grant the farmer one more wish. So the fa...