Morning, just sat in the tea room at work talking about the usualy shit. Gordon Brown seems to be the main topic of conversation at the mo’. Between the latest gossip in reader’s wives, Dear Deirdre and the daily challenge of the Name Game in The Sun. Old Gordon seems to be getting a bit of a bashing. I reckon if he made his way down to deepest, darkest Caistor he’d be doing well to leave with limbs and todger attached. There are a few 25-stone truckers that wouldn’t mind a quiet word in his ear.
It’ll all come out in the wash, as long as there are still tea bags in the cupboard and I’m still walking I’ll not get too worried.
My sister Kate was only telling me the other day about monkey trapping. Did you know they used to cut the top off a coconut, tie it to the ground and fill it with food to catch monkeys? The monkey would put its hand in, fill it’s fist with food but then couldn’t get it out due to it being full of the food. The monkey not being the sharpest tool in the box never thought of letting the food go to get its hand out. The greedy little bugger would just struggle trying to get out. Monkey brain eh?
The old girl is a fountain of knowledge. I’ll try and learn a few more useful facts.
Well, it’s more or less the end of the season, only Macau to go. Oh and a trip to Japan for PB magazine to test the new Kawasaki 600 next week. Best get on with some work.
Oh, just a quick one. I’ve got a set of gloves here with half a missing finger from when I crashed at Silverstone. Like new except for that. To get them, signed by me, in one sentence, what choice words would you have for Gordon Brown? I don’t know him or owt, it’ll just be funny. Best one wins (and NO SWEARING. It’s a family forum).