THE BANK MANAGER'S BACK DOOR

I’m going to be open with you lot as I need some advice. I have got some deep seated issues with my fucking sex life and I don’t know what to do.

I have sired many cattle. More so than you, your ugly girlfriend and cougarish mother have ever had hot dinners. And hot drinks for that matter. I’m a machine, a one bull badass spunk factory that indirectly makes your taste buds water with what I produce – kind of ironic, that.

But at the moment I have two little problems. One – I think I have put my fucking hip out and the other – I think I’m developing feelings.

I’m trying to deal with one issue at a time. So, on the physical side I have been going round trying various lotions, potions, pagans and perspectives.

I visited Jerry The Adder again for his worldly advice. He pointed out that snakes don’t have hips and that they stopped having hips around 80 million years ago. Fuck me adders are under rated. They are at the top of the evolutionary chain if they have evolved to be hip-less, as this is a pain I can do without. Jerry said if he was me, he would try an alternative therapy as he knows how much I hate vets!

So then I visited Knuckles The Magpie – still entombed in a lead casket five meters under ground but with a paper cup and string telephone system. (Forgot to say - in punishing Knuckles that Princess Cara of Purbeck is one eeeeeevil bitch); indeed. He will be festering there for a while as a punishment for being a cunt, with the May edition of FHM and no reading light. I thought I would ask his advice any way though. He just told me to do one and that I’m dead meat when he gets out.

Yeah, right mate.

I then went to see Cut n Paste Wayne. He had literally just reversed a John Deere into a small child so was just hooking up a defibrillator to the tractor battery to sort her out; she was bleeding heavily too but they were just flesh wounds and once Cut n Paste got her heart started she looked good to go. Cut n Paste Wayne said he was a big fan of Tiger Balm, but that it was for muscular injuries. He said we need to work out if I had muscle damage or ligament damage.

Now in case you didn’t know, cow’s ligaments are very awkward. They are stretchy and really fleshy. You will know about eating them from rogue Big Mac’s you may of occasionally had in the late eighties. Corners were cut back then my friend’s… corners were cut…and that’s all I shall say on that one.

So I booked a scan in a private medical clinic in Harley Street, London. All the top notch gadgets and circuitry didn’t show any issues with my main frame. So it would appear, I needed a remedy for a muscle issue and I sure as hell wasn’t going to allow Cut n Paste Wayne to massage any of that fucking tiger balm into me, the raving Gaylord!

So I booked in for some acupuncture with a lovely lady form Belgium called Sabine. She practices on humans and animals and after the first session it seemed kind a promising to be fair.

It still hurts but hopefully it’s on the mend.

Now for the second problem:

I don’t want to sleep around any more. I can’t retire and I have great lines. All cows wana fuck me and all bulls want to be me.

I want to try a serious relationship, breed children for bloodstock and settle down. I have been eager to diversify my career – that’s why I have been blogging, social networking and writing.

I respect the opinions of all my farm yard friends and I appreciate them giving up time for my issues. But what I need is a neutral and impartial expert to help me plan a holistic, client centred way forward….

So I booked an appointment with the bank manager.

She was one of those young curvy types – almost a milf before her time if you know what I mean; busty with long dark hair. Smash her back doors? More like her barn doors the lucky bitch, I felt an incomprehensible urge to just ruin her on the spot - there and then.

Any way, she said to get a fucking grip, look a the potential for growth in my sector, start a new venture promoting British Aberdeen Angus steak for more profitability and pump cows harder, faster and better than I had ever done before! Then she sold me some travel insurance.

So event planning is the way forward people!

This autumn we are going to have a steak festival on the farm! There will be a bbq, ample to sample, a steak and kidney pie making competition, beef curry for beginners, Chinese crispy beef classes, girls in bikinis, the Beef Jerky Jury, free therapy for vegetarians (dickheads), tractor porn in abundance, bunting, cake for pudding….

……And of course a steak eating competition with me as a referee!

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NEXT WEEK: if you are going to be part of the "Beef Jerky Jury", just how will you resist a good old fashioned bribe?