SHEEP SHAGGER'S CHRONICLE.

SHEEP SHAGGER’S CHRONICAL

There’s a Spot The Bull competition in Farmer’s Weekly this week or is it The Sheep Shagger’s Chronicle. Never mind. The competition is a variation on those spot the ball competitions one used to see in downmarket papers like The Times. The competition is called Spot The Bull, apparently you can spot the bull from looking at the shape of a cow’s udder. You couldn’t make it up. The prize? £3,300 worth of top grade bull’s semen. Picture this scene somewhere in Bucolicshire which is in Zummerzet.
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“Ay Arthur! What you be a-doin’with yer ‘ed up that cow’s arse’ole? Ned the local campanologist and closet Morris dancer was used to coming across strange scenes at Arthur Grint’s home of Bucolic Bovinery, but this would take some explaining. The cow began to make a strange sort wailing noise - as well it might, in fact if Ned wasn’t mistaken it sounded like yodelling. “Well oim buggered” muttered Ned to himself “well oi thort I’d seed an’ ‘erd everythin’ an’ that be no mistek, oi knew ‘e were fond of walkin’ around with ferrets down ‘is trousers an’ loiked fondlin’ ‘is sheep when they were a bit lonely, but this teks idiosynchronwotcity to brobdenigerian heights.
Ned walked up behind Arthur and gave him a swift kick up the arse. The cow bellowed ‘yodelayheehoo oi gerroff!’ Arthur pulled his head out of the cow’s arse with a resounding plop. “Wot yuh do that fer?” inquired Arthur, flicking bits of cow shit from his eyelashes. “Well oi thort you’d finally gone round the twist with yer ‘ed up that cow’s arse loik - pardon me if there is some sort of lojkul explination.” “Ooh ar yeh, oi wuz jus’ practisin me yodelin’ said Arthur. “Yodelin!’ exclaimed Ned
“there’s the echo” said Arthur. “No that were me” ejaculated Ned. “Yoo in the competition too?” grunted Arthur viewing Ned with some suspicion. “Wot competition?” vociferated Ned. “It were in the Ferret Fondler’s Gazette” yammered Arthur “you can win a years free supply of top grade bull’s semen if’n you can spot the bull from the shape of the cow’s udder, so oi thort oid steal a march on the rest of ‘em boi getting some uh that there inside information loik. “Well, oi discovered that the inside of a cow’s udder were quite echo-y so oi thort oid get some practise in for the yodelin’ contest at Shit-Upon-Peas in Orgust.”
Ned took in a deep breath and eventually said “well that’s alright then it fair took the wind outa me sails rattled me dovecotes all in the one doin’s. “seein’ you loik that reminded me of the missus giving birth to our Grunhilda - all arse and fetlocks thrusting its way into the world, God the memory still meks me shudder.” “Well she is a bit of a heifer isn’t she?” Said Arthur. “Cheeky bugger” said Ned. “But now you mention it the missus said she were tekkin’ ‘er out fer a bit ‘o’ grazin’ yes’day.”
There was a long silence that meant nothing in particular.
“So wos this abowt winnin’ a bucket ‘o’ sperm at the yodelin’ contest Arthur?”
“Noooo not at the yodelin’ contest!” said Arthur with no little exasperation, “it’s a contest in The Sheep Shagger’s Chronicle ent you bin-alisnen?” If’n you can guess the propinquity of the parentage from a picture of a cow’s udder you can win gallons of champion bull’s sperm.” Ned’s eyes were beginning to glaze over. “But you were in there ‘avin’ a yodel wun’t ya?” He spluttered, becoming more confused by the minute. “Arr an’ I told you why an’ all, oi wuz jus’ killin’ two birds with one stone so to speak” retorted Arthur. “Birds? Birds? Gasped Ned “oi’ve ‘erd of bats in the wossname, but birds up a cows bum is a ‘omily that fair defeats me.” “That’s not a ‘omily that’s a proverb that is” sniffed Arthur.
“Proverb, shmoverb” said Ned “Oi don’t need no Bull’s sperm oi’ve got enough of me own.” “Ah that’s where yoom be wrong, you can sell the sperm.” “Wher to, Tesco’s?” Oi can just see it nesslin next to the yoggits in the dairy section, I suppose that you could allus do 2for1” Mind you oid ’ate to think of someone picking up a tub thinking it were plain yoggit, it don’t bear thinking abowt.