Serves him right too, the cunt.
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I havenāt heard a cuckoo in a long, long time.
Lazy cunts, going around having kids and leaving it to others to bring them up.
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Fuckit itās awful quiet that a comment like that has only had one tame reply in over an hour.
I found a little fucker if a hedgehog there an hour ago stuck in a path gulley, fucksake the cover was off and he looks to have fallen in. Iād say he was there over night sitting in stagnant water unable to move. He could have been there longer.
Its funny because I was having a shit last night at about 11 ands I could hear something outside that I thought was something creeping round on the gravel but now I realise it was this poor bastard stuck down the gulley scraping away thinking heād never be found. Poor little cunt if youād have seen the sad little desperate face on the fucker when I lifted him out with a big bbq throngs and dropped him into a bucket. I gave him a run then under the outside tap and he started to come round. Which is good because I had him down for dead or a pure euthanasia job at least. Anyway I let him off in a bit of a meadow down the back and he sat there for a few minutes probably waiting for me to fuck off for myself the ungrateful little shit.
Heās gone now. He took a circular route which entailed a 10 yard hike and low and behold has doubled back to my boundary where the trail goes cold. Fucking ape heāll end up in the blades of the lawnmower.
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Lovely little mammal, unfortunate that theyāre always carrying an infestation of fleas
When they lay down with dogs like HBVā¦
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They have lovely soft very pleasant looking faces.
After HBV handling him fleas are the least of his worries
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Grand bonfire going hereā¦ No sign of rain either.
God bless St John.
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Good man KP great to see people keeping up the tradition,weāve a big one burning up at home tonight as well
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Same as that @KinvarasPassion - we have a big one still blazing away a few fields from the house. Thereās a fine smell of burning gorse wafting through the townland. May the pagan gods bless us on a fine midsummer night.
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In my stupidity I thought that bonna night on St Johns Eve was uniquely Cork on this island.
It was one of the biggest nights of the year when I was growing up, there wouldnāt be a tree or a tyre safe for miles around.
Ye horrible cunts.
Blackberries picked and the jam made.
Iāve also made rhubarb jam and raspberry jam and apple jelly and elderberry jelly. The neighbour told me to pick his apples and in return I gave him a jar of the apple jelly.
This sure set jam sugar is the business. Foolproof.
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Jesus, those tiles.
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The same lad must have laid the tiles as did the back yard,shockin bad
My treatment of a few bullocks in the crush leaves this fella in the haypenny place based on the footage shown
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Dāauld fella is slowly getting used to my ānew ageā approach at dosing time: Turns out a friendly rub on the back and a few āsuke-suuuuukesā is less likely to drive bullocks batshit insane than walloping them up and down the crush with a 36āā hurley.
Thereās always one though, and when he emerges from the shed (invariably Limousin -
āhereās the bastard nowā) the only thing with a more demented glint in his eye than this 900kg mix of muscle and madness is de auld fella himself. Of course, what Iāve learned the hard way - repeatedly - over the years, is if you have one fucker big enough that wants out of the entire situation there is sweet fuck all you and your flimsy little ash paddle can do about it.
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