I bet it was an interesting dugout at the Shrewsbury v Scunny game yesterday, Sam Ricketts manager of the Shrews, and Nick Barmby and Andy Dawson for Scunny.
Last year I was sat in the front room when my wife and I heard this weird screaming coming from outside like a woman being attacked in an old horror movie. We rushed to the kitchen window and on the path outside stood a sparrowhawk (who I shall refer to henceforth as Geoff) with my cock bird (aptly named Screech) standing right next to him, screaming in his face. I couldn't work out what I was looking at initially, it was such an odd thing to witness. Geoff didn't even flinch when Screech (a Polish cockerel, the stupid haired, aggressive, sharp toed little ****) coupled his wails with a, frankly embarrassing, dance akin to a drunk scouser, his wings providing the 'calm down, calm down' actions. After a couple of minutes Geoff did one of his own accord leaving Screech with a hollow and undeserved sense of victory. I have no idea what Geoff's plans were or if they were fulfilled. I am currently besieged by an ever increasing number of pheasants, the tamest of which saw me ONE ****ING TIME in the bedroom window and now the beautiful bastard rocks up every day at daybreak insisting I let the chickens out and provide tasty pellets for him and his harem. Oh, and of course I'm expected to provide this service for free. It was funny at first but now I'm starting to consider dropping Geoff an invite.
If the falcon comes back Kemps see if you can get it to catch your rats for you. Just a thought like.
Is Screech for sale? I bet he'd sort the rats out good and proper. Do you get rats? It's just that Mz Kempton also feeds the birds and Iv'e been told that's what's attracting the horrible 'Allam like' ****s. It's just that our one remaining cat is 20 now, so if she sees a rat or a mouse, she just shrugs her shoulders and signals she wants a new dish of gourmet ****ing cat food. I'll swap my cat for your Cock
Puts a new interpretation on the bird swallowing antics of a certain old lady ! The lyrics need updating ?
I will give you £20 and drop him off. By all accounts, Screech is a proper bellend. He was called Valentine as we picked him up on said day but that lasted until he cut my leg open and flew at my face 12 hours in. We changed his name to Screech because of his awful morning call and the guy who played Screech in Saved By The Bell had stabbed some dude in a bar. As for rats, I've seen the idiot sharing a bowl with the ****ers. With the mild winters and abundance of food I don't think I've ever seen so many. We too have had to stop putting out bird feeders as I'm sick of seeing the furry brown arsed bastards hanging off my generously provided peanuts. Now they've started stealing the hen's eggs. Someone in the village put out traps and when they went to check them some clever rodent ****er had covered them in shards of insulation rendering them useless. I used to take the dog out ratting but even he can't be arsed now. I'm just sat here surrounded by game birds, vermin and empty promises to take Screech away. P.S. Good work on getting your cat to 20. No doubt you'll be rewarded by it wandering off to die in secret so you'll never have any form of closure. Selfish twats.
You don't know the half of it, Des. Daisy's brother cost me a ****ing fortune in vets bills. He was shot three separate times, by some **** with an air rifle, costing me £140 each time. If I knew who was doing that, well... Rats... I don't do face book, but our lass does and there's people on there furious about the fact we hate them. All creatures great and small and all that bolloks. They're ****s and they should be dead. I love Daisy, I really do, but when she eventually 'does one', I'm going to get me a couple of them Bengal things. That'll learn em
Did you see this? https://www.theguardian.com/world/2...in-manhole-rescued-by-firefighters-in-germany