It just so happens that I do have my spanners with me today. I even have the manual for the Vibrating Donkey Annoyance device in the back of the van. So, today is - quite possibly - your lucky day, providing I do have the spares, of course.
Now, I don't usually carry spares for Vibrating Donkey Annoyance devices because - believe it or not - they don't go wrong that often. Besides, these days, there doesn't seem much call for them. On the relatively few occasions people do discover an infestation of Vibrating Donkeys in their wainscoting, they do seem to be very unwilling to further annoy them.
I suppose it is all down to the increasing urbanisation of British life. Not only are relatively harmless rural pursuits such as fox hunting, sheep 'husbandry', chicken intriguing and estate Agent Immolation looked upon with uncomprehending disdain, but whole areas of mindless slaughter of wildlife have now been made illegal, often by people who have never been in the countryside, let alone felt the thrill of a sheep's back legs down the inside of their wellies.
Soon, it seems, children will grow up thinking that food comes only in packets, boxes and tins, and that the countryside is a rather poorly-maintained and rather tedious theme park, and that sex is only possible between members of the same species.
That will be - I'm sure you'll all agree - a very sad day for this country. A country that has always prided itself on its close contact with, and understanding of, the natural world, and - quite often - which bits of it are good for having sex with.
It is - therefore - high time for this trend to be reversed before it is all too late and we become a nation of iPod-mollified urban trendies utilising the stances of trainee marketing executives with both pointlessly elaborate hairstylings and overly-foolish trousers.