Frenchbob

I understand completely, Guy: you get to a certain age, you take what opportunities present themselves!

Bien sur! There are three of them, actually, but 'er indoors has singled one out to be groomed for stardom, christened Bruno [i insisted on a good, Italian name], and she's hand-feeding the damn thing already. Personally, I shall be getting out my best whippy stick: I remember the fun I had persuading Serge not to try his luck when my back was turned..........No, not like that; you know what I mean! Merci, Mike: c'est gentil!

Thanks, folks: kind thoughts. Serge humped and crowed himself to an early demise - a brief coup de sang and it was all over: a worthy way to go! I sincerely hope, Guy, that this wasn't my last, truly outstanding cock.

No, he wasn't a person and in the whole scheme of things it amounts a very small sadness, but Serge keeled over today: he had finished his morning round of the hens and was crowing under his favourite tree, then - silence. Apparently this can happen to highly strung cockerels. He was in his prime, a character, and I shall miss him. The heir apparent doesn't know he's escaped the pot! I don't think he'll amount to much, but we'll see.

Rumours that I worship my cock are slightly exaggerated.

Gave me a good laugh, too: thanks!

Personally, I have found that any bike is "art" that you have invested time and money in. Other people won't necessarily see it that way! I would hesitate to describe HD Sportsters as girls' bikes. I had a mate in England who rode his 1200 Sportster Sport like an Italian stallion: it seemed to hold up OK! I don't much like the appearance of the Griso either, but then I've yet to ride one. My V11 is ugly, and slow in comparison with most modern big bikes, but I get something from riding it that isn't to do with ultimate speed, beauty, resale value, exclusivity or street cred. Other than calling it charisma or character, it beats me what it is, exactly, but I suspect that many Harley riders would know what I'm talking about.

Tasty bikes.

Hi, guys. Back from the UK and quite glad to be, even if my adopted country is being over-run by terrorists [i [b]don't[/b] think!] Like the others who said Richard Thompson, but James wouldn't have given Red Molly the keys, would he? Magneto ignition! Ah, it's great to be a nit-picker!

Is this site big enough [or tolerant enough] for a second global warming thread?

Jim's second method is priceless! It's ever so easy here: I just speak to them in English - their phone goes down immediately. Soon, though, I'm going to try asking what they think about global warming.........

I never wanted a cockerel, actually. I arranged to buy some point-of-lay hens from a friend when we first came here, and was told that I could have the hens if I took a young cockerel with them. I thought this strange at the time - most people eat their surplus cocks, but further probing elicited only the information that he had been called "Little Bastard" for most of his short life. The learning curve began there. His previous guardians never got close enough to trim his flight feathers, and I certainly haven't tried: our flock is free for most of the day and need to be able to escape from foxes and the like......but I wouldn't survive the encounter anyway. My point is, Jim, that he flies, usually going in low and hard. You be careful up there!

QUOTE(antonio carroccio @ Nov 9 2006, 09:47 PM) We guys are always fouling around here, but in practice we are gentlemen. "Civilisation rests on....the voluntary ability to inhibit defecation" [Robertson Davies]

HOW TO BATHE THE CAT: Steps 1 through 6 as per the Dog's method Step 7: find a very heavy object and place on toilet lid Step 8: go and hump some hens Step 9: er, that's it! SERGE

Whatever made you think this would appeal, Nog? I think there's been some cross-referencing going on between the "readers' wives" section of this site and our "middle-aged women" thread!

Don't start me on this subject, please: none of us has the time!

Some time ago you asked me for pîctures of Serge in a sidecar. In the course of attempting to comply with this request I almost lost an eye and a good friend [the outfit's owner] and Serge definitely lost his temper [not an unusual state of affairs: the other day he got irritated by a dove which kept stealing the hens' grain. Next time I looked in, no dove, just a large number of white feathers and a little blood on the ground]. This request, however, is an easier one, and as soon as I come back from England [week after next] I'll post some.

You old hippy! [i like the music of Nick Drake, too]

Serge's diary: 8.10am: It got light; humped a hen, crowed 8.11am: Humped another hen, crowed etc, until.......... 8.30: Food arrived, hens' attention elsewhere - humped them all, crowed, then turned my attention to THE CAT. Ha ha, you think you're a philosopher or something, do you, sunshine; if you were a bit closer I'd give you a proper doing over, so f**k you and the pathetic, geriatric mouse you "caught"........hang on, hen not paying attention!.........crowed 8.35: humped some hens, crowed for five minutes 8.41: crowed, humped a hen................ The rest of the diary has been omitted as it is largely a repeat of the above.

Oh, I don't know. Clarkson is usually comprehensible.........and occasionally funny.

So you would love to believe.

A living in vaudeville awaits us, Jim.

Nice idea for a poll, but the dates are wrong.

Ben, you would be disappointed. In the eighties, I lived in Northamptonshire, across the road from the the then sales manager of Aston Martin - this was in the days when Gauntlett was MD - [pause for BFG to say "allegedly"]...........lovely bloke, name of Kingsley Riding-Felse [you couldn't make it up] and I got to drive all the current Astons, and the much-hyped Lagonda with its screen-up instrument display and white leather upholstery, and a load of other stuff they used to take in part-exchange [bristols, Ferraris, Jensens] They didn't do anything for me that my much hacked-about pre-unit Bonneville [wish I still had it] wouldn't do ten times better, except carry groceries, and my wife's Renault Clio does that! Stick with the bikes.