Britain's Got Talent, the dog and the Chicken

I was at a table top sale this morning in the village hall, we were selling a few fragments of things to the punters from Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop. Mr Beelzebub said he really did not want to take some of the little things down in the dungeons with him. Things like posh bars of soap, as he said, “When you are bathing in the eternal flames of damnation the last thing you need is a nice creamy soapy lather to keep your skin soft, particularly when most of it has be burnt off”. So mum was shifting a few items in our quirky village event.

 As it happened me and the dog got wind of a chicken, we like chicken and both thought WELL COOL Sunday roast, YUM. The dog in particular was very pleased because we heard; well were told by one of the stall holders that a dog won “Britain’s Got Talent”, which is some TV show that people watch for some reason. The reason the dog was pleased was he had a bet on at the local betting shop that the dog would win because as he put it “Even a dog that can not speak Latin or do Maths is going to be more talented that most humans, they are rubbish”. Yes the dog is like that just because he can speak Latin, Japanese and invented the perpetual motion machine, and does my maths homework, although it is best it I don’t mention that in my diary….. …… ….. AH.

When Blogs work together then things can be awesome. 

Many Thanks Mr ESB, fellow member of RATs 

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Sorry distracted, back to the chicken, I didn’t get to see the chicken as I was told it was safe in its cage but I could make an offer so I started at twenty five pence. But I ended up in a bidding war with an anonymous bidder and ended up paying thirty five thousand eight hundred and sixteen pounds and twenty eight pence for the chicken. I have been warned about getting carried away in auction biding wars before and mum said I was an IDIOT, I think she might be right it is rather a lot for a chicken.

Two things made the situation slightly worse, the first of which it appears the other bidder was the dog, Secondly the chicken is a knitted soft toy and I can’t eat it. The only remotely redeeming thing is it is a bit cute and it apparently likes one or two blogs including mine.

Still that’s six months pocket money blown just like that.

The dog has suggested that we enter the chicken into next years “Britain’s Got Talent TV show” but the chicken is protesting and says he has got standards to maintain. 

Ooooooo by the way we are about to blow today's profit in a decadent Chinese takeaway meal YUM 

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