sweet theatre of life
Evening at the Chateau de Healy.
Aunty Mary drops in for a visit.
With great gusto and high good humour she informs me that she has just killed Roger and Reggie her two roosters, and served them up for dinner.
I am rather put out by this.
In spite of all my complaining about their early morning cockadoodledooing, I have grown quite fond of the beasts.
"Why did you kill them? " I wonder a tad naively.
Aunty Mary shrugs.
"Arrah," sez she, "they wouldn't give the hens a moment's peace."
So that was it.
Even the animal kingdom isn't safe from the march of feminism.
Aunty Mary drops in for a visit.
With great gusto and high good humour she informs me that she has just killed Roger and Reggie her two roosters, and served them up for dinner.
I am rather put out by this.
In spite of all my complaining about their early morning cockadoodledooing, I have grown quite fond of the beasts.
"Why did you kill them? " I wonder a tad naively.
Aunty Mary shrugs.
"Arrah," sez she, "they wouldn't give the hens a moment's peace."
So that was it.
Even the animal kingdom isn't safe from the march of feminism.
posted by heelers | 3:40 AM
2 Comments:
AHAHAHAHAHA!Poor hens, not even having a bloody week of refuge as an excuse... ;)
U know us latins, never afraid or embareced to get into details! I keep shocking the brits!!!
Well I guess a man is a man, with skin or with feathers...(a bit more of feminism for the heelers records!)
.R.
Ruth, you never fail to surprise.
J
Post a Comment
<< Home