Ah wiz on ma way tae the Sweaty Oxter last night, when a furry paw thrust a big, yellow bucket under ma nose.
“Gonnae gimme some spare change mister?, p l e e a s e !
Ah’m two times as not well as Pudsey on TV, so you’ve got to give me two times more money ” said a small voice.
“Take that”, says I, and donated some of Mrs.P’s wine tokens. After her 3rd Chardonnay she’ll not notice that she’s not gettin a 4th.
Personally, I blame that Gary Bearlow for encouraging this bear-faced larceny.
Last month, it wis ‘Blackbirds-in-Need’, (No, not Oprah, or Tina…., the flying kind) There was 3 craws sat upon a wall, shakin collectin’ tins an’ ravin’ about it bein for a good caws. [I always wonder what they do with all the Irish Punts and Belgian Francs that I give them]
Today, the ever-youthful and beautiful Mrs.P asked me to remove the single, solitary black hair from her top lip. Ah had thought that, with this bein’ Movember, it was fashionably cool to grow your own woolly lip cover…. mmm, funny how Mrs.P an’ I sometimes see things differently. Anyway, after I got tae thinkin maybe I could extract DNA from this rogue hair and clone another Mrs.P. Yay!, I’d have twice the fun… how cool would that be?. I could get twice the back-scratches, .. an’stuff.. aww, sweet!.
Ahh, but then I’d have double the difficulty in gettin’ the TV remote…, an then they’d both talk at me, at the same time, in their wine-y bear voice, double th snoring, porridge widnae last long wi’ 3 bears in the hoose. mmmm… maybe, like the baby bear bandit wi’ the bucket, I should turn a blind eye (or two) to the opportunity to grow-my-own-bear. Maybe the best thing’d be to just love the one Mrs.P Bear that I have, twice as much….. pass me the bucket.
Paul R Bear 