It started predictably enough with a forage for something to eat round the bird table in the garden. Why she insists on feeding those bastards is beyond me, but she seems to like it for some reason. Then managed to scrounge some toast off me Mum. Then went for a walk and ate loads of grass and rabbit shit, terrier truffles as I call them. Then snoozed in me bean bag. Then barked at random passers-by, some of whom passed-by a little too closely for my liking. Woofed my head off at the little lad over the road, the one with attention deficit disorder, who promptly shat himself. Which amused me, as I thought it might distract him from his regular problem by replacing it with a predicament of an entirely different kind. Which it did. Now looking forward to tea. I do hope it's sausages. Pooh count: only two (not including the one from the lad over the road as that would be cheating). Miliband and Balls I'm calling them. Smug little bastards they are.
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...