Aah, I have just been harrassed by a young welsh woman working for British Gas, talk about breaking a girl in gently, it's only 9.05am and I have been steered into a direct debit I may live to regret.
The ladyfriend and I have an intelligent pheasant that comes to our garden. We have called him Piggy because of the huge amount of bird seed he consumes. It's really queer though because at the weekends he turns up from about 12pm onwards yet in the week he crashes into the garden about 7.30am. How does he know our movements? Do you think we are sitting on a gold mine and - with the appropriate training - we might enter him into a contest and scoop top prize?
Coming to work this morning I spotted three pensioners laden with shopping, why don't they space things out a little? They've got all day to do their shopping and nothing else to do but tend their bloody Dahlias. Perhaps it is the Wimbledon effect and they want to get all their 'jobs' done before Virginia Wade fills their horse brass filled sitting rooms.
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