Some are born great, some achieve greatness

and others just muddle their way through life, knocking over bicycles as they go

My blogging awards from Mya have finally arrived.

I blame their tardiness on the postal strike.

Well, Vin and I aren’t going to Hartpury College tomorrow to do dressage because our entries weren’t received because of the fcuking postal strike, so I think I can blame the fcuking postal strike for this bit of lateness too.

Oh.

I’m sorry.

Did perhaps just the smallest part of a rant slip out there?

Well tough.

Do you know how many fcuking hours and I mean fcuking hours I have spent learning two fcuking dressage tests so that my lovely lad and I could drive all the way down to fcuking Gloucestershire to go head to head against some seriously top ranking competitors?

Do you?

I’ll tell you.

Fcuking hours, that’s how many?

Eh? Well no, of course I don’t now exactly how many fcuking hours. But it’s a lot, ok?

So thanks, Mya, for your beautiful awards.

I shall take them out once every day for a walk around the block and polish them.

If they need special food, please do let me know.

Mwah!

B.

ps: this post hasn’t been very intellectually inspiring. are you sure you have the right address? it might be them next door at number 22 you need?

pps: forget it. you can’t have them back even if it is them at number 22 you should have sent them to.

ppps: and i’ve cemented them in to the side bar. no, not them from number 22 – that would be nigh on fcuking impossible wouldn’t it? have you seen the size of her feet? Christ alive, you don’t get many of them to the pound!