On my daily constitutional this morning it became quickly, or is that quackly, apparent that everybody else is at it, except for me that is. The ducks, pigeons, sparrows etc are all going at it hammer and tongs, or is that thongs? Unfortunately I'm not, on account of the two-leggeds having had me "done" before I even reached the grand old ago of one, the tight bastards. There's a bright side though, I just can't think of it right now. Rolled in "stuff" in a vain effort to try and make myself feel better, but it didn't work. So now I'm smelly and miserable. Pooh count: 1, a very modest showing by my prolific standards. Still it's more than Fernando Torres can manage.
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...