Bucks two cents worth 5

Me and my little doefriend (She's on the left, stupid!)
Me and my little doefriend (She's on the left, stupid!) | Source

 

This is getting trickier and trickier trying to keep Phil out of the way so that I can write this. I don’t know how many more times I can get away with this. Still here goes again.

 

How about the Commonwealth games, eh? It was like a donkey’s breakfast, I heard someone say. Hell no! A donkey’s breakfast is quite good actually – high in fibre and full of nutrition – in fact quite possibly a lot better than what the athletes will get to eat. However fair dos to the organisers they’ve managed to fool enough idiots into going.

I’ve never much gone for sports myself - apart from a bit of nanny chasing that is. Just can’t see the point. So I can run faster than you or you can jump higher than me. Big deal and unless I am actually running after something worth catching up with or away from something worth getting away with; why would I want to do it?

Still humans always have had obsessions with the strangest things. Take eating for example. They waste the best parts of most of their food. Not that I’m complaining about that, mind you, given that I am often the recipient of such delicious delights as kiwifruit skins, banana skins, avocado skins and green vegetable stalks. Yumm.

But back to the Commonwealth games shambles. I snuck into the dairy shed yesterday when the boss was out and tried to go to their website to see how things were shaping up. Bet you didn’t know I knew how to do that, eh? Well it’s easy actually. I mean I can’t use that mouse thing, but two hoof typing works okay for me. Anyway the bloody website was down! I knew the Indians weren’t all that crash hot on a lot of things such as running water and sewage, but the website. Jeez, all our IT help desks are based there. No flamin’ wonder we have so much trouble trying to fix software problems. It’s not the language barrier; the buggers just don’t know what they’re doing.

But I guess they come cheap unlike that Kiwi bloke that heads up the Commonwealth Games Federation. My little doefriend Glenda reckons it nitwits like him that are responsible for the shambles. The poor Indians have come in for an awful lot of flak, but isn’t it the Commonwealth Games Federation that is responsible for putting the show on? The Indians definitely think so as witnessed by them burning effigies of Michael (party-pooper) Hooper. If I were him I’d get out of there before they decide the effigy is not real enough.

Comments

No comments yet.

    Sign in or sign up and post using a HubPages Network account.

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No HTML is allowed in comments, but URLs will be hyperlinked. Comments are not for promoting your articles or other sites.


    Click to Rate This Article
    working