I've got 'em. Me Mum says I must have eaten something "dodgy", which it's a bit difficult to narrow down in my case seeing as around half of everything I consume could be construed as "dodgy" in one form or another. Still, pleased to see that it didn't put the boy off his breakfast this morning. Me Mum thoughtfully put some paper down for me in the kitchen (it's the one thing that the Mail on Sunday is good for), just in case I couldn't make it through the night (which I couldn't). So I duly availed myself of said services and left a nice runny mess there for her to clear up in the morning. The boy comes down first, makes himself some poached eggs on toast and sits down happy as Larry at the kitchen table to eat it right next to my steaming puddle of shite. I kid you not. The dirty bastard. It's like living through an episode of the Royle Family in here some days.
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...