Piss off. They're round here every fuckin ten bastard minutes it seems, disturbing my beauty sleep. We don't want to switch to a new provider. We aren't interested in how much fuckin money you can save us with your fuckin Jock electricity so pack your bags and piss off back to fuckin Scotland with it. What's that? Oh you're only dong a survey. Well fuck off with that too, we're too bastard busy to bother with you and your surveys so you can stick that up your Jock arse as well. Do I make myself clear? NEVER, EVER, come back here again. Write that on your little iPad type thingy and get to fuck. Maybe I could interest you in some Spanish unemployment? Pooh count: 2, one of which bore an uncanny resemblance to Garth Crooks for some reason, another annoying little shit like the bloke from Scottish Power.
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...