Pigling Bland

Please consider what you would call a woman balancing three pints of ale on her head whilst modelling clay?

I feel that I am sometimes a little forthright in my opinions, and this appears to have landed me in deep trouble most of my life. And I haven't learned. Oh no! I just get better and better as life peters out. What a waste of gilded youth, or is it youthful guilt?

I spoke via telephone to the comely partner of my transport correspondent today, during which conversation she informed me of her woes regarding fridge-freezers, mice, and a Hallowe'en party for the younger ladies of the house. And, Tickets, the second paragraph did not reference your good self. Oh! how I wish I was Wodehouse. Still, maybe a cat can be Wodehouse if a thousand monkeys will eventually re-write the Bard.

Do pay attention, Double 07. Refer to previous nonsense.

But, Mr T, the last paragraph does imply some damage! Given that this is a man who tried to fix a leak from the washing machine by propping it on a potato I feel duty bound to offer Mrs T my help in ridding her house of the mice. Regular readers and correspondents will be aware that I have some considerable experience in the matter, although I reserve judgement until they are proven not to be rattus norvegicus. I am genuinely not scared of anything in this world...otherwise I would have been shot, stabbed or jailed by now...but rats really don't do it for me!

The mushies used to jade down the fields for the hedgepigs and the rats, and bake them in clay, cos they had no other scran. I really don't like rats. Even though I guess most people think I am related to them at some point in my genealogy.

I have decided that maybe I should take a milder line in my rapportage. Innocent people may be hurt, or incriminated, by asides. I know, because I have spent my life casting them! The trouble with permanent abuse is that eventually no-one else finds it funny, or maybe that's just the company I'm keeping? Still makes me laugh, but it probably reduces the number of Christmas cards I receive. Which collection is further diminished by the most stupid union in modern history and exacerbated by the constant change of address that is needed when the next wife throws you penniless onto the street. Anyway, to revert to the leader, I shall henceforth be Pigling Bland, that well-known sap to law and order. If I find this boring, however, I may have to spice it up a bit. Let me know what you prefer, my angels?

I'll teach you more from the diddikois, if you like.

And your infantile homework tonight? The answer is Beatrix Potter.