Thursday, February 25, 2010

Badger-Oiling Thong And Spats

Well, as they say, 'You can't oil a badger without wearing your badger-oiling thong and spats'. So, as those items are still in the wash, I'll have to do something else this fine morning.


It doesn't really feel liker winter is quite over yet yet, despite the frantic nest-building of the hairstylists and the feral banjos tuning up for the mating season down in the woods. Every now and then you can hear the distant sound of duelling banjos as the male banjos fight it out for dominance and the consequent right to mate with as many female banjos as possible.

So, only too soon the summer will be here, the World Cup is immanent, and - more importantly - The Proms are drawing ever closer. This means that all-too-soon it will be the time of year for complaining that 'it's too hot for me'. This is - usually - the signal for Maureen to give up on clothes altogether, which certainly does help make the weekly Little-Frigging-In-The-Wold Parish council meetings far more interesting, especially when we break for tea, cream cakes and oral stimulation later in the evening.

Anyway, I'd better crack on; it looks as though it will be a long day, especially as we have to put the whole herd of lawyers through the lawyer dip in order to prevent an outbreak of injunctions. This can be a significant danger, especially in this very slightly warmer weather as the winter, at long last, begins to fade.

So, I'll say 'toodle-pip'.

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