It's been almost six months since I decided to become a vegetarian and...well I'm still alive...so maybe it's about time I spilt the beans on how it all happened.
I was harmlessly browsing our favourite baywatch babes web site, Pamela Anderson dot Com, when the wife shuffles up behind me, tweaks my ear and drawls
"....whatcha ya dooooinnngg...."
"Erm...aahhh....just...errrr...researching Peta......and vegetarians....." I stammer to a start. "And would you believe Pam is a vegetarian" I rush along the home stretch, smirking a little at my own ingenuity.
"Why?" the light of my life spits like a bokdrol at a witblits convention* (I had to have 3 stitches just where the glare ricocheted of my forehead.)
"Well, I was think of maybe becoming a veggie too?"...me... rolling the old puppy dog eyes...
And I haven't dared eat a piece of meat since.
Out there somewhere in the farm lands of South Africa are a handful of cows, a dozen chickens and assorted porkies and skaapies (sheep) who owe their very ongoing existence to Pammies Silly-cone Tits (PST's for short......tee-hee guess they're never short!).
*For the none Souf Aff-i-cans, or the cultural challenged Saffers, witblits (white lightning) is the equivalent of moonshine and a bokdrol is an antelope dropping and yes there is an honest to goodness sport where people compete and see how far they can spit them....hey hey hey don't judge...we didn't get TV here till the mid 1970's. You have to keep yourself entertained somehow.
Tell you what though it was easier to find a picture of the PSTs than a bokdrol spitter to illustrate this article. (And that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.)
Thwack.......
<sometime later>
Retribution was swift, painful and necessitated a return trip to the ER.
Recent Comments