Ok. I’m not wallowing any more. I was intending to put up another post but I didn’t get around to it. I have no excuse. I’ve been slack.
So moving away from wallowing…
Where I’m working now we’ve got some sheep. We had some sheep in to check on. We only needed one but we had to have two, cuz you can’t leave them alone. They get stressed if they’re by themselves. So some other guys were checking the sheep in question, and its friend was left alone for a few hours. And it called. And called. And called.
It sounded very much like the drunk guy that you see outside the nightclub at 3 am. You know, the one that is so drunk he has been ejected from the club, and is sitting sprawled against a wall, possibly with a little vomit smeared down his front. He’s so drunk he can’t even talk. All he can do is make some kind of growling, choking, zombie sound. Well that was what this sheep sounded like. And after ever ‘baa’ (for want of a better onomotopia) I kept waiting for the following words…
‘ya gots noice tits!’
The bane of my existance. Waiting for a lonely sheep to tell me the obvious.
Chin up about the crapness you’ve recently been dealt. xx
by Sharnee May 7, 2008 at 1:22 am