Thursday, January 27, 2005

Funky Chicken

That Barry Chicken came round our barn this evening and played a few songs on his banjo. Everyone was tapping their toes, jigging the jig and generally making fools of themselves. I'd just settled down for a nice kip after a hard day wandering aimlessly in my field, when he decided to "entertain" us.
Some people call it music, but not me. If you trod on a chicken's foot, you'd get a pretty good idea of his vocal prowess. And I don't know where he gets his ideas for songs from, but I'm sure he was singing "Get a low down on my hoe-down, cos I'm the chirpiest chicken that's ever been a-flippin'". Which is frankly stupid. But all the girls loved it, so you can't argue really.

Many thanks to all of you who have taken the time to write me emails and post comments on my site this past week, it's all very much appreciated. I've really enjoyed all your mad story ideas too, so keep sending them in.
Farmer Jack's off away until next Monday, so I won't be able to post to this blog until he gets back. Have a good weekend and I'm sure I'll have some great stories for you next week.
All the best,

Sunday, January 23, 2005

'Snot very nice

It's certainly very cold today. The last thing you want to do is stand out in the middle of a field in Arctic conditions. But that's what we're doing!
It's made even worse with Lenny going around with a big bogey icicle hanging from his nose. Yuk! I can't even bear to look at him without wanting to throw up. He seems very happy though and I don't think he even knows it's there. I'm sure he'll end up licking it off (he usually does), but until then, he can stay well away!

Lenny looking rather pleased with his frozen bogey.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Hairy tale

As you are by now no doubt aware, probably my greatest story so far appears in this week's Beano. Cecil the Bee gets on my nerves (as usual!) and if that ain't bad enough, his stupid cousin George gets in on the act too. And all the while I'm trying to get ready to win a fantastic trophy.
You'll have to buy a copy to find out what I'm rabbiting on about.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Special branch

Well, here it is, Bernard's Great-Great-Great-Grandfather Cyril's fantastic prize for having the knobbliest knees for miles around; a piece of wood that looks a bit like a knee. Flipping 'eck, call that a prize?! We've got hundreds of bits of wood just like that laying about in our field and you're pretty likely to get a poke in the eye if you awarded one to someone as a prize.
Bernard reckons that it was like winning a Blue Peter badge back in them days, and Cyril was offered hundreds of pounds to part with his treasured log. Can't see it myself. I'm glad I'm alive now and not in the olden days, 'cos I'd be well mad if I'd won a stupid log in a competition. They could've at least painted it gold to make it look special or something. Although thinking about it, whenever I've seen photos from hundreds of years ago, everything is in black and white, so the colour gold probably didn't exist then.
Not that that's any excuse. Stupid olden-day people.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Knobbly knees

Bernard's shed roof blew off in the wind today, so he's having to stay with us for a few days. We don't really mind, as long as he don't talk to us and we don't have to look at him.
I think it was Lenny that noticed what strange nobbly knees he had (he's very observant is our Lenny). So we told Bernard what stupid looking knees he had and apparently his mother had the same thing too. In fact most of his family stretching back 100 years have had funny looking knees one way or the other. He even reckons his Great-Great-Great Grandfather Cyril had such strange nobbly knees that he won a prize, and people from miles around came and looked at them.
I wonder what sort of prize you give a goat for having weird knees? Maybe a really big pair of spotty bloomers for him to eat or something.
Who knows.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Bad day

You know, some days you have a good day and then some days you have a bad day. Today I had me one of them bad days. It started off in the morning with me accidently sniffing a blade of grass up my nose. As any sheep will tell you, this is a frequent occurrence, but today I really wasn't in the mood for such nonsense. It caused me to flipping sneeze for at least an hour and made my nose horribly itchy. I kept scratching it and Lenny kept shouting at me to stop picking my nose. I wasn't picking it, I was scratching it!
So of course Lenny got on my nerves all day. He eats his grass like a big moo-cow, slurping and chomping with no thought to manners. I had to go and stand on the other side of the field to get away from him, but he kept following me, muttering on about how today the wind blew from the east, yet yesterday it blew from the north. Oh how very interesting.
Then it poured with rain so we all ran to get under a tree. I was quite unfortunate and slipped over on the wet grass, to everyones great amusement. I actually hurt my ankle doing it, not that anyone cares.
I tell you, tomorrow I'm staying in bed all day. See if I care.
Everyone smells anyway.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Coop scoop

Ho ho! We just heard what the cause of all that to-do was yesterday...
It turns out Farmer Jack's bathroom window looks out over the (now destroyed) chicken coop. The farmers wife was up there merrily brushing her teeth in the morning with the window wide open and singing to her heart's content.
Unfortunately, she was singing along to some advert on the telly, "I feel like chicken tonight", or something (I don't know it myself) but it was overheard by many chickens downstairs in the yard who knew it very well.
It's shocking just how sensitive them chickens can get, cos they just wrecked the place! A couple of chickens even managed to get inside the house and blow up the telly. Luckily, Mrs Farmer Jack managed to lock herself away in the bedroom cupboard safely until the police came.
Them chickens really do need to go on one of them 'Anger Management' courses, because at the end of the day, it's only a song, and from what I've heard, quite a nice one at that.

On a side note, Bernard the goat was stuck up that tree all night. No one knows how he got up there; he ain't talking and the chickens are saying it had nothing to do with them neither.
He's a bit weird, that Bernard.

Monday, January 10, 2005

The chickens are revolting!

Ooh. You go away for five minutes and the whole world goes mad!
On Sunday, Farmer Jack bunged us sheep in a field flipping miles away, so far away in fact, that we stayed there overnight (which wasn't great, but that's another story). But cor! When we got back this afternoon, the entire farm was in chaos!
We haven't worked out exactly what has happened yet, but most of the chicken coop is smashed up with feathers and eggs everywhere; some of the windows in Farmer Jack's house have been broken (with bricks it looks like) with eggs splattered all over the walls; his favourite new yellow tractor is laying on it's side, burnt out and Bernard the goat is stuck up a tree, although actually he looks quite happy.
According to Cyril the pig, the chickens had gotten loose and went on a deranged rampage! He also reckons the police turned up and arrested at least five chickens, but he couldn't quite make out who they were.
How exciting! I wished I'd seen it all. What a laugh. I've seen unhappy chickens in my time, but to see a gang of mad, angry chickens rioting in the streets, now I'd pay money to see THAT!

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Still not fat...

Can you believe it? Even Bernard the goat called me "chubby chops" today and Bernard never says ANYTHING! I'm not fat, I'm very woolly.
Cecil the bee reckons I should go on "Celebrity Fat Club" seeing as hits to my new website regularly reach double figures on a daily basis. He has a point, so I'm writing to Dale Winton first thing in the morning. It would be about time they had some real talent on there and not some mad old soap stars or deranged "reality" stars. I'd be great.
Except I'm not actually fat.

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

I'm not fat!

Someone really hurt my feelings today, so I'm feeling a bit sad.
There I was walking to the field with the rest of my gang, minding my own business, when someone rudely shouted out that I was a fat lump! What a cheek! I didn't know who it was, but it definitely came from the direction of the chicken pen. Lenny said it was Fluffy Eddie, so I went up to him and told him straight that I'm NOT fat, just a bit more woolly for the winter. It's alright for him cooped up in his er.. coop, but we're stuck out in the freezing cold all day and we need that extra layer, or we'd turn into big ice cubes.
I also told him how upsetting it is to be called names and asked him how he'd like it if people made fun of the way his feet turned outwards and called him a penguin, at which point everyone laughed and started chanting "Penguin! Penguin! Penguin!" until he cried.
It was at that moment that Sandra the goose put up her wing and confessed that it was her who called me fat, not Eddie, and she didn't mean it and she was only having a laugh with her mates.
I thought she was my friend! Not anymore. I ain't speaking to her ever again!!