SAUSAGE LIFE

Home

BACK ISSUES

SAUSAGE 159 SAUSAGE 160 SAUSAGE 161 SAUSAGE 162

SAUSAGE 163 SAUSAGE 164 SAUSAGE 165 SAUSAGE 166 SAUSAGE 167 SAUSAGE 168 SAUSAGE 169 SAUSAGE 170

SAUSAGE LIFE

Bird Guano

The column which thinks Dominic Cummings should be the new Dr.Who

READER: Did you phone me yesterday?

MYSELF: Me? Er...I don't think I....

READER: It's just that I got a strange call, very late. The caller didn't say anything. All I could hear was a scrabbling, grunting sound, as though a tiny mammal was trying to escape from a matchbox.

MYSELF: Who on earth could that have been?
READER: It was your number.
MYSELF: (Blushing), OK I'll come clean, it's a fair cop. When I got home after my important meeting last night, I must have fallen over due to exhaustion. In the course of the tumble, my phone appears to have have slipped out of my pocket and dropped to the floor next to my face, where my nose accidentally poked your speed-dial number. The random grunting probably came from the badger which had followed me home, attracted by the scent of the dead pheasant in my inside pocket.
READER: I'm glad we've cleared the air.

Our regular agony aunt is here to answer your queries on matters of the heart, gardening, equestrian golf, fancy goldfish and all things spiritual.

Dear Wendy,

Although this is not strictly a medical enquiry, I wonder if you could settle an argument? Exactly how many golden daffodils are there in a host? My husband claims it is half a dozen, but I feel that the talented Mr. Wordsworth would hardly have interrupted his solitary cloud-like stroll for a mere six blooms. My estimate would be more in the region of 125-130, more than enough Narcissus Pseudonarcissus to stop any starry-eyed poet in his tracks, regardless of how lonely his wondering was.

Mimsy Borogrove, Beyondenden, Kent

Dear Ms Borogrove (May I call you Mimsy?),

I am more than happy to deal with your non-medical enquiry, as I am not a real doctor. The official number of daffodils in a host has fluctuated constantly over the years, subject to the random whims of fashion. In 1877, it stood at a mere 7, yet less than a decade later (following the Great Daffodil Glut of 1885), that figure had reached an astonishing 800! Since 1919, it has been strictly regulated by the Royal Horticultural Society (Daffodils) and in 1949 after some inter war fluctuations the number was officially linked to the number of proposals in a raft.

I hope this has resolved your marital disagreement.
Wendy

SPORT

Hastings & St Leonards Warriors' new signing Angus Doppleganger from AC Maasdammer, made an instant impression after coming on in Friday’s Lillette's Cup 3rd round tie against Upper Dicker Macaroons FC in the 87th minute, when the team were 7-0 down and staring at a humiliating cup exit. Just before the final whistle Doppleganger was escorted from the pitch after head butting the referee and biting one of the linesmen, following a red card for felling Warriors' Spanish centre back José Boccerones with a cynical elbow in the penalty area. Dave Babcock's unstoppable spot kick took the score to 8-0, confirming Upper Dicker's passage to the 4th round. A spokesman for Warrior's new US owners, Poogon Chemical Toilets Solutions Inc had this to say: "Let's not make a mountain out of a molehill here. These people are highly strung professional soccerisers. Angus is sensitive, like a Stradivarious, or a high performance Italian sports car and needs constant careful maintenance but because of British regulations he wasn't allowed to wear his trademark Ray-Bans; consequently the sun got in his eyes and he just snapped. The ref should have kept his mouth shut instead of winding him up. This wouldn’t happen back home. Last season, Emilio Grabowsky the quarterback for The Boston Stranglers, murdered his coach Louis Van der Schmo, for putting itching powder in his jockstrap before a game and no one made a fuss. You British are a bunch of girls"

TWO LOCKDOWNS OR A SUBMISSION
Grapple fans delighted as WWF returns to screens
Minister for Fake Sports Nigel Huddleston has announced the return of socially distanced Professional Wrestling to our screens. “Pro wrestling, although completely bogus, must nevertheless conform to strict Covid regulations and masks will be compulsory during bouts,” said Mr Huddleston, “which is why we have scheduled Kendo Nagasaki vs The Masked Avenger as our first TV encounter. Mr. Nagasaki and Mr. Avenger, both of them masked legends, have agreed to show bare-faced wrestlers the 'ropes', (no pun intended hahaha! Or rather lol). The idea is that the public will get their entertainment but more importantly, a valuable lesson in the efficacy of masking up.”
Asked whether Nagasaki (75) was still in good shape after several years of running a Suchi bar in Aya Napa, his Turkish manager Bob ‘Bobo’ Calamari told us: “Make no mistake, my boy is like a one-man tag team. An intensive four-day yoga and pilates regime combined with massive doses of anabolic steroids has ensured that Kendo will be super-fit and tougher than vegetarian bacon. He’s like a bolt of forked lightning trapped in a cutlery drawer. Mentally, he’s a combination of Albert Einstein and Sigmund Freud with a little bit of Russell Brand thrown in. We have been assured by Sketchley's the dry cleaners that his cape, mask and close-fitting golden speedos will be ready Thursday, in time for Team Nagasaki to embark on a nationwide run of promotional appearances.”
We spoke to the 69-year-old Masked Avenger (real name Harry Smoot), at The Money Laundry a small accountancy firm in Huddersfield which he runs with his wife Maureen, a former Miss Grimsby. “Kendo Nagasaki? He’s not the Big Bad Wolf, he’s Little Red Riding Hood and I’m his grandma.” He fumed, “In his frilly pink mask, sequinned cape and satin trunks he looks more like Liberace, the mincing piano thumper. In contrast, my studded leather face covering is based on Edgar Allen Poe’s apocalyptic pandemic scenario Masque of the Red Death, and is scary enough to turn milk sour. As for fitness, thanks to Maureen’s nutritious steak & kidney pies and an intensive course of Nestlé’s Bulk Up The Volume Pec‘n Buttock Powders, I’m more or less back to my fighting weight of 200 kilos. When I get into the ring with Nagasaki I’m going to rip off his girly mask and reveal his true identity to the world before somersaulting off the ropes and pretending to crush him with my speciality pulverising piledriver move.”
“Do I look bothered?" Mr. Nagasaki snorted when asked for a reaction, "Everyone knows I was wearing a mask years before the Avenger.” Lowering his voice by an octave, he boomed this firm pledge to all Kendo fans through a megaphone: "If the so-called Masked Imposter tries to rip off my mask during the bout - which he is contractually obliged to do - I will unscrew his fat head and kick it around the ring like a football.”
“In a responsible, socially distanced way of course.” added his manager diplomatically.