The sub-atomic goat particle accelerator is on the blink again. Of course, at this time of year, it is hard to get a man out to have a look at it, but - this time - we are fairly sure that it is on its last legs. We have had it for seven years now, a decent enough length of time for something that is almost constantly on during the height of the breeding season when the goat particles - obviously - tend to need the most artificial acceleration.
Of course, with the goat particles themselves being sub-atomic they can occasionally be rather tricky little buggers to deal with. With the accelerator on the blink like this, it is becoming increasingly common to find the odd errant particles in the most unusual places. There was a whole pile of them behind the fridge last Thursday, for example, and I've found several down the back of the sofa whilst searching for the spare change necessary to purchase new batteries for the intimate devices so essential for the modern sex orgy.
Speaking of sex orgies, both Maureen and I have lost count of the number of times we've had to blow the half-time - change ends - whistle due to errant sub atomic goat particles worming their way into intimate cracks, creases, cleavages and crevices. Not to mention the dread itchy knee problem.
Oops, I seem to have mentioned it. Sorry.
So, anyway, I suppose, after the Christmas festivities, Maureen and I will have to gird our loins and set off to the shopping centre in the hope that we can pick up a heavily discounted sub-atomic goat particle accelerator in the January sales. One of those new ones with brushed aluminium leading edges to the manifold and integral MP3 player and low-fat grill would be nice. But how often do you see top-class merchandise like that in the January sales these days, eh?