FOUR FOR A BOY

It takes a while to get over shock and anxiety. I guess you have good days and bad days as you are thrust along in a somewhat lengthy healing process.

Fear of dying is never great at the best of times, but when its imprinted on you subversively it catapults the effect a hundred fold.

This is why I have decided to go after the perpetrators in the most aggressive way possible.

In the fullness of time, the buzzards will be wiped off the face of the planet.

This whole thing has caused me to behave a little crazy from time to time. I look over my shoulder more than usual and am a little short to people every now and then.

Take Monday past for example: his holiness Lord Augustus arrived on the farm in person  for the first time since buying the place.

As you should know by now Jock Strappers I usually approach a new situation with no pre-conceived ideas whatsoever, so was quite intrigued!

Now this chap doesn't intend to be around the place that often as he has another large estate to look after, as well many of the world’s crop circles to analyse whilst impatiently looking for alien messages.

I'm joking on that last one by the way. He just seems a bit too tally-ho for my liking. Eccentricity doesn't pay the bills. And neither does a maverick attitude. OK so he’s into tractor pulling and dead against further advancements in agricultural automation, I get that, but shit like that costs money and I'm worried that his tractor pulling needs could turn into a bit of an obsession. An expensive one.

Any way Handsome James and Beth the Manager took him on a tour of the place to see what we do and meet our people. Now that we have our diversification programme in operation as well spring barley being actively planted there was lots going on!

We locked Cut ‘n’ Paste in the grain dryer, just because he’s a cunt.

#wouldyouintroducehimtoyourCEO?!

So the two office goons are marching the toff up to my field to meet me. My wingman has been sent to Mannheim to test new John Deer models at his bequest and I was looking forward to what treat he had in store for me!

They come into the filed via actually opening the gate (real farmers would just climb over it) and then began to approach me.

Augustus is wearing an old wax jacket with a newish but stylish flat cap and expensive yet highly practical wellies. Beth’s all in Navy , looking quite tailored and rocking a Kashmir scarf– because, why not?

Handsome looks like a twat. He’s dressed in what I thought at first were jeggings and which turned out to be painted on formal style jeans, Dr Marten brogues, a light yellow (oh I'm sorry, daffodil) shirt and a tweed jacket.

Fuck me backwards Jock Strappers, they actually let this man interact with folk.

Beth and Handsome start talking about my stats to Augustus as they approach my black self. Got to admit, it does wonders for one’s soul when you are introduced by your numbers, vitals and lineage.

Its like Wreslemania  but without the homoeroticism ( #RandyOrton #BigDave) and also without the wrestling but you get the point.

Problem was, he didn't get a fucking word of it. Turns out he knows sweet fuck all about beef production, or working with animals for that matter.

To him I am merely just alive.

No matter how much they bigged up my achievements he just nodded like he was all special needs. In fact it was his over eager smile that lead me to that judgement.

So what am I supposed to do now? Get my cock out and wrap it round his neck, a bit like Beth the Managers scarf?

Stampede the cunt?

What?

I was confused, vulnerable, pissed off, anxious, bored, paranoid and well groomed.

So I gave the jumped up tractor pulling, technology hating ignorant cunt a thoroughly impressive introduction like only I could...

I recommended a few things for him to do by using a few new additions to that bastion of English discourse, the Oxford English dictionary:

This week – they added the following to the dictionary:

Cunty. Cuntish. Cunted and Cunting along with another 896 words.

Any way I said that:

1.  Its fucking cuntish to be introduced to bovine royalty and not know your fucking arse from your elbow about what got me there in the first place
2.  He should go back to cunting college and swat up some about animals in farming
3.  We all felt royally cunted when he initially proposed an arable only operation, fucking me off in the process
4.  I didn't have  a fucking clue what the word cunty meant so I just  told him next time he encounters my presence the cunty twat - (is that a double negative?) –better fucking bow down and show some fucking respect.

It later turned out that –

cunty (n.): adj. despicable; highly unpleasant; extremely annoying.

So yeah he was that.

And my tirade didn't faze him one bit though?

I guess a talking, swearing, shouting batshit crazy stock bull must be the least of his worries?

to vent my anger further I donkey kicked Handsome James in the chest. Not hard or anything, I just wanted to see that god awful yellow shirt get a bit dirty.  

Then Augustus smiled and turned from a spesh look  to an  actual humour look, so obviously has a dark side thank fuck!

Maybe I will use that at some point, or worst still, maybe he will. But then again im just probably paranoid…..