Lambcut had the temerity to call BB an urban numpty a while back. Her country creds come from spending half her life up to her low bum in sheep shit under the shadow of the Takitimu mountains.
Anyway out on the block in the Wairarapa, the field mice have been seeking solace in the warmth of the big shed as Autumn's damp chill takes hold.
We don't like mice. We are not scared of them, just think they are vile little bastards that have the ability to pee and poop a lot more than their tiny bodies would suggest.
Anyway a snivelling little mousy poobag ended up inside. I grabbed the very old fashioned cast iron toasty pie maker( the ones designed to go straight in the fire) and wumped him. Mashed mouse. End of story.
However the sheepish Lambcut had her own rodent battle this morning. But she has lost all her cred. She caught one in a trap. It squealed lots as its was trapped in the trap by its paws and as she used to say when she was just a wee tiny thing - "it frighted her very much"
So she went out side had a beer and a fag and got up a bit of courage. Then she took it and drowned it in the guest toilet. What a wuss.
Wrecked the family reputation for being fearless but humane killers of all things great and small.
Embarrassment she is, a bloody embarrassment.
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2 comments:
The answer to this otiose, inane refuse of a post is; Anyway!
Lambcut is about to post on something that matters, with, Lambcut might add the somewhat belated editorial permission of the bovinely busted one.
This evening's seriously considered post, which Lambcut wanted to put up some hours ago, is actually worth your time to read.
Having said that, the Lamb knows that the proudly prowed one was abundantly occupied over the last day or so.
Onya Sis!
Im with Lambcut!!!!!!
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