FridayTo the Bonkers Home for Well-Behaved Orphans, where the little mites plead to be taken to feed the Rutland Water Monster this afternoon. Call me an old sentimentalist, but I am in the mood for an outing myself and it has to be admitted that the modern chimney can be remarkably narrow. So on condition that they are All Good, I agree to return this afternoon with a few scraps for the old girl.
After enjoying my own luncheon, I round up a couple of sheep, a bullock, two ramblers who wandered off a public right of way last summer and a Tory council candidate whom I have had knocking about for some time. I drive them all to the orphanage and then take the little mites down to the Water’s edge.
Ruttie is in fine form and thoroughly enjoys her repast – and how the little ones cheer as she swallows the Tory in one gulp!
This evening, I read a book which speculates upon the mysterious disappearance of the Labour MP Victor Grayson in the 1920s. These author types don’t know the half of it, do they?
Thursday: The first Lady Bonkers' tits
Wednesday: Remembering Sugar Ray Michie
Tuesday: Brian Paddick's campaign song
Monday: Lembit in the fountain
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