SAUSAGE Life 273

Bird Guano’s
SAUSAGE LIFE
The column that thinks tired, worn-out cliché is the elephant in the room 

READER: Football’s coming home! And on top of a glorious heatwave to boot!
MYSELF:  I assume you’re referring to plucky little Manchester City’s collaboration with the headchoppers of Saudi Arabia in a bid to win the Champion’s League?
READER: Precisely – a victory which will be accomplished with a display of British decency and fair play in the face of fiendishly foul behaviour by the desperate spaghetti-munching boot boys of Inter Milan.
MYSELF:  Speaking of desperate behaviour, our bloated ex PM has resigned his seat after accusing some kangeroos of ousting him.
READER: Kangeroos? Why?
MYSELF: They were apparently furious at not being elevated to the House of Lords.
READER: Kangeroos can sit in the Lords? Really?
MYSELF:  On the contrary, its very difficult to get them to sit anywhere at all. Once they’ve picked up their expenses they have a tendency to rush off into the bush.
READER:  I seem to remember Rolf Harris saying something about that.

UNFAIR DINKUM
Residents of Upper Dicker  are up in arms at the announcement that
the walk-in Medical Centre at Station Plaza is to be closed. News that the 24 hour
service is to be relocated to Alice Springs in the Northern Territory of Australia, and renamed The Walkabout Centre has dismayed many users.
Australian born local counciller Bruce Gallah claimed that the move was unavoidable because of stringent government cuts which have already curtailed many essential social services. Next to go, according to the ex wombat breeder, will
be some of his own innovations such as gluten-free yoga classes for under fives,
homeopathic loft insulation and spiritual hangover wellfullness. “Jeez mate, I mean
fair suck of the sauce bottle,” he told us, “Alice Springs may be a bonzer place for jumbucks, but if a bloke just wants to throw a sickie ‘cos he’s feeling a bit crook after a night on the grog, a trip to the outback is the last thing I’d recommend”.
Glove restorer Wilf Strindberg of Cockmarlin agreed, “It’s bad enough having to go to the local A&E, never mind all the way to Australia.” he said, “For starters I can’t
afford the time off work, which, when you take into account getting to the
airport, 27 hours each way on a plane plus the inevitable jet lag, would mean each visit would take over a week. I could practically get an appointment with my own GP in that time! Even though I can’t really afford it, I’m now seriously considering going private and consulting an astrological soothsayer”.

MORRISON DANCING
The Upper Dicker branch of Morrisons supermarket wishes to apologise for the slight kink in the fabric of space and time which occurred during May and wishes to assure customers that things will soon be back to normal. For the moment, bacon has been temporarily moved to the shelf marked ‘shoe polish’ on aisle 23. Mushrooms have been relocated from the pharmaceutical section and can now be found next to countersunk screws in the aisle labelled ‘halloween costumes’. Milk, you will be pleased to note, is still in the same place (eggs), except for semi-skimmed which is in the same section as frozen fish, and Jersey full cream which is now next to cat litter on the cheese island. Happy Shopping!”

TAT TOO?
Is there anyone, anywhere, anymore who doesn’t have a tattoo? The public reacted with horror after it was recently revealed that footballer Nobby Balaclava, Hastings & St Leonards Warriors’ ruthless midfield enforcer, has had a questionable image inked on his calf. A picture (which went predictably viral), of Nobby rolling down his sock and displaying a vivid tattoo of Attilla the Hun torturing a kitten, has opened up a can of worms which ironically, is what David Beckham has allegedly had tattooed on his penis.

LOVE IRELAND
The latest series which has been haemorrhaging viewers has now reached the halfway stage. Padroig and Molly, having agreed to share the barrel of poteen they have brewed from donkey-urine and wood-chip wallpaper, are now in the middle of a massive row because Brendan got drunk and kissed Molly under the mullberry bush. New arrival Kerry has hearts aflutter as he demonstrates his potato-juggling skills wearing only a yoga thong. Darragh’s bicycle tyres have been let down during the night and his pump has been stolen, the chief suspect being ex-girlfriend Kaitlyn, whose jealous fits of rage send her fragile temper into overdrive at the drop of a hat. Now that the boys have been tasked with cycling to Donegal and bringing home a cow, which the girls must slaughter, skin and barbecue to make sandwiches, how will Darragh cope with flat tyres and no pump? Will Kaitlyn have her full-face tattoo of Darrah’s arse removed in a fit of pique?? Watch this space.

DICTIONARY CORNER
Bojo (n)  A self-confessed liar.  A serial adulterer. One who expresses strong opinions swayed entirely by self-interest. A cowardly avoider of responsibility. An especially fat clown

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