Last weekend it was the Bath and West Show. We normally head down there in force each year to show off our wears. We take livestock, cheese, horse meat and sometimes cacti.
As you know Jock Strapper’s Aberdeen Angus beef is some of the tastiest in the business! So more farmers want a slice of jerky so to speak.
I say fair game. I’m all about spreading the word on our impressive meaty flavours. Therefore each year, there has been a steady increase in the amount of stock bull entries in my class for best in show.
And each year I smash the opposition due to my impeccable breeding, good looks, impressive ball bag and massive cock. But this year, I came second.
Now I’m remaining calm to a point even though it’s only two days after judging finished. There has clearly been a mistake, some kind of mix up or worst still a conspiracy.
My mate - Joe The Bull an Aberdeen angus who is originally from Essex came third. I am happy for Joe, as he has stepped up over the last couple of years, pounded some serious heifer and got himself a cracking set of thighs to show off as a consequence!
But the “winner” ladies and gentlemen, the best in show, the top dog AKA Mr. perfect… is a fucking ginger!
I mean what the fuck?!
Talk about positive discrimination > talk about playing the race card.
What’s more, we didn’t win the jam competition, our cheese lacked “an adequate balance or rural aroma’s”( what the fuck that’s supposed to smell like … I don’t know) and Knuckles The Magpie got busted (again) for allegedly handling stolen goods. Talk about tarring everyone with the same brush. His bead stall was strictly legit!!!
Such rural stereotyping has got to stop. Mind you Joe the Bull’s farmer has got one of those Skoda Yeti 4x4’s – so as well as not getting a deserved second place he didn’t even get towed home in a Range Rover. Poor little bastard. What the fuck is the world coming too Jock Stripper’s.
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So let me tell you about Mr. Perfect:
Well - He is fucking Scottish and you can’t understand a word this little cunt says – when he does decide to talk that is.
He lives on deep fried silage and battered corn on the cob. Reckons he has two shots of iodine each night before bed, just to keep him clean. He reckons the girls love his accent and that’s why he’s as beefy as he is.
Well I reckon he gets jack shit. His lines are highly questionable and his temperament is abrupt and rude to say the least!
Watch this space Jock Strapper’s. You haven’t heard the last of this. #
