TWO FOR JOY

 

The waters are receding somewhat and with this reduction in saturation comes relief.

Back out in the field now, at one with nature, in the fresh air!

I’m still seeing badgers daily but I swear some of them are hallucinations. I think I may have gone just a little bit batshit over this whole scenario, being all enclosed and all.

Knowing that there are antagonists out there plotting your downfall is really not cool. Especially when your closest allies can only offer a small bit of support on the flanks

Don’t get me wrong Knuckles the Magpie is a killer. But I can’t help thinking he is under the thumb somewhat now that he is back with Sparkles.

You should never go back. It will never work.

She’s confiscated his cross bow too!

Anyway Frank the peacock has stepped up. He felt annoyed he couldn’t find The Buzzards so he went to extreme lengths to get amazing disguises and began working on a strategy to infiltrate the buzzard community, gain their trust and then get me a location.

Needless to say Frank found them (standard), by seducing a vulnerable young female who was once head over heals in love with Alan Buzzard! Frank prayed on her openness and groomed her into some finger pointing pillow talk!

Turns out Mr. Buzzard had left her on a whim for an older model - aka Sharon Buzzard. She always had her suspicions that he liked the older birds as she said he used to cry if she didn’t carve up his road kill with a knife and fork during teatime.

Furthermore, she even caught him once smelling the patch in the nest where she had been sitting, after she inadvertently returned from the bathroom ahead of time, to ask where the toilette paper had gone.

What a cunt of the highest order Jock Strapper’s.

Anyway, Frank’s charms led him right to them.

And I now know where they live.

Once said target has been lit up, I’m going to fucking have ‘em!  - All å la Pulp Fiction esque by getting truly medieval on their arses!

Nothing will give me a greater sense of Joy than to watch those two burn I tell ya! I have lived on fucking broken glass more or less since Christmas. With no sound back up.

Don’t get me wrong it could have all gone tits up! Frank’s disguises have let him down before! One of his fake side burns fell off his face once mid banter during a young farmers speed dating evening! He is still alive though.

I get a great deal of joy watching the finest in their field do their thing. Im the best stock bull in the business and I like to think of all high performers, no matter what their background; as equals. A sort of family in a weird way. And Frank the Peacock can infiltrate where most people fear to tread. What a legend.

Normally I would be singing the praises of Knuckles the Magpie. In this sort of crazy situation it’s usually him that has the last laugh in either the burning or the cutting. I’ve said it before and I will say it again: Knuckles the Magpie is one dark bastard.

‘But hang on’ – I hear you cry…. ‘You haven’t followed through yet’ – the saga is incomplete! The Buzzards are still at large! ‘Surely he will hit the final nail in’?

Well he won’t.

His darkness needs to be re-awakened…

Sure he pretty much saved the farm single winged in the autumn, but boy oh boy is he paying for that now.

He’s had a few pot shots at this badger incursion but Sparkles the Magpie has confiscated all his weapons. Even his fucking thumbscrews!

Sparkles the Magpie – In case you didn’t know – is a cunting Christian.

She is religious.

Full of joy and understanding, yet forbids murder.

Well now, as the tone of this retaliation is medieval I couldn’t give a flying fuck. Bad things were done in the name of goodness back then Jock Strapper’s

Knuckles loves this bitch. He’s smitten. The signs were there that he was going to break free and become endarkend once more. But he hasn’t. So I thought I would hurry the process by paying her a little visit, when she was all-alone, for a little…. theology sesh.

So yesterday I tracked her down whilst she was tending to a wounded robin that a cat had half mauled to death by one of the hay barns.

(Btw – I don’t talk much about cats. They exist that’s for sure and make up a significant aspect of my dramatic world…#staytuned).

I walked straight up to her weeping her pathetically enlarged and enlightened heart out. I asked her if she took joy out of the fact that she was repressing a true elite.

She came back with smiles, harping on about the positives in my life and how the farm has had the capacity to help stranded cows from Somerset in these dangerous times. She said I ought not to think of getting one up on the Buzzards. I politely pointed out that it is in fact fucking even that we need to be getting as well as setting an example. I even anchored my notion accordingly…

"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you." 

- Ezekiel 25:17

Sparkles then pointed out that it was in fact Tarantino ’94. She then said the original version was only ‘like a sentence long’ ‘and probs didn’t happen’.

So I was all like ‘whatevs love’ and went to tell her that I was, in fact going to get hold of a magpie that is so hell bent on mindless violence, that she once ended up on Crime Watch as an unrecognisable Newcastle United fan who went on a rampage through south west London after Chelsea smashed them 4:0 at the bridge. Literally the destruction trail that was left through the capitol could only have been done by a maniacal Geordie football hooligan. Nope it was her. It was all her and she is all powerful..

Hang on a minute, why do cunting Christians get great delight in telling us that stuff in the fucking Bible isn’t fucking true – and they do it with a fucking smile as well. It either fucking happened or it didn’t fucking happen. Bunch ‘o cunts.

Any way we are gonna get a bit regal down on the farm in the next few weeks…

That’s right Jock Strappers! It gives me great joy to announce that I’m going to bring back Princess Cara of Purbeck!

She is then going to go to the Buzzards layer, well; I say layer, more of a caravan in a tree.

No, really it is.

One of those really small ones, wedged in a mighty oak tree, about fifteen feet up.

This is what we are dealing with.

This is what Frank the Peacock has dug all the way into the cold boggy ground to spy on. (Loobed up accordingly in highest quality thermal good fat)

This is what will be torn apart and burnt down.

This is what Sparkles the Magpie will watch and enjoy.

This is how we will educate her angelic ass into seeing things clearly.

I have sensed great fear in her, since I hinted heavily that her highness will be returning. Without Knuckles in my corner, I am officially a man down.

Man she must give good head or something.

Who cares any way. Those buzzards are going to burn for making me feel like they have and I don’t care that I need to bring back one of the most craziest bitches in history to do my bidding.

#joy

ONE FOR SORROW

There is a judgemental presence within us all.

It fills us to the brim with eyebrow raising situational stares that set off historical reflections of our own risk averse past.

Looks wise… If it aint normal don’t admire it.

I, as you well know; am full of it.

I am as judgemental as they come. Look at me wrong and I will call you cunt, challenge the honour of my friends or this farm and I will tear you a new arse hole.

(I am very powerful).

Sometimes being judgemental works in our favour. It protects us and helps us assess danger.

For example: All horses (cunts) are cunts because each and every one of them gossip worse than Yorkshire folk on coke. Literally.

Gossip is a negative manipulation of the truth and therefore cuntish. So they are cunts for that very reason. All tarred with the same brush; so in my mind, I know not to trust them. PS, as I have said before, you have to say the word cunt as a sort of suffix for every time you mention the word horse (cunt) or horses (cunts). It’s the law.

Most if not all rural farm theft is undertaken by gypsies. Therefore when you see a gypsy near a farm you know to hang them from a tree and/or burn their children.because they will be intent on committing a crime.

So by now you are getting the gist of how being judgemental can help you when:

a)     You have a secret to keep and need to tell someone about it –

#don’ttellahorsecunt

OR

b) Organise a suitable farm yard risk management strategy limiting the involvement of the outstanding Dorset Police by implementing a burning policy and empowering them so they can fully resource the notorious BH12 area instead.

Being judgemental can bring about feelings of extreme confidence. Sure I can don a cape and go gypsy burning all under the radar, fallen super hero style, covering my tracks in a sea of miss direction, turning my head away and smiling when people hype mysterious dark night fame to my very normal face; as they wander who it could be….

But I am a bit more blatant than that now! I go in guns blazing! And my guns are fucking ripped! Plus I’ve got an arsenal of animals with deadly skills ready to back me up!

Being judgemental can also make you feel at one with your own perspective. You can hate on who you like because you have the brains and talk to justify it. What’s more if you say it in the right way most people will listen.

Take Beth the Manager for example. She’s new to farming, and this made her vulnerable to making mistakes and gullible as to how things are really done round here. Although to be fair, Handsome James is teaching her well

#curriculum

(That’s called subtext Jock Strappers)

We made her implement new things by judging her knowledge. We were right and we managed to get a successful diversification strategy launched as well as saving my own black ass from redundancy in the process. Being judgemental worked a treat.

Thought never occurred to me though…. What if I was the one that people were being judgemental about?

What if I was being judged as a cunt or one dangerous son of gun?

Normally it would be water off a bull's back.

People are now judging me as dangerous.

In all the wrong ways for all the wrong reasons.

This is not bringing about a feeling of confidence but feelings of anxiety and dread.

Bovine TB is a killer. Some say its spread by badgers. For that reason badger culls have been happening over the last year or so. Gloucester got the gig as a test bed with Dorset as reserve.

Now I’m not a fucking scientist. Yes badgers are vermin and No they actually don’t behave like Badger off of Wind in the Willows.

They smell, they are creepy and they chat shit.

TB was always at the back of my mind. As a cow you have a healthy apprehension for such things. But sometimes you can’t help but believe the hype about badgers carrying the disease.

Badger numbers round here never got out of hand. Maybe having Metal Face Mitch, Big King Tom and Discount Denis slithering about the place put new ones off from coming.

Any way, cutting to the chase,

One of us cows goes down with this shit and curtains for all of us. We are judged as deadly carriers and duly executed.

I am living in fear.

Mind blowing anxiety is controlling me every day.

What’s more the sodden fields cant support us all so we are inside a lot, close together, breathing all over each other. I know I have my own digs in the yard, but at times like this we need to show solidarity. Plus I am scared and keep having funny turns when I am alone.

Also we have taken in refugees from the flooded out Somerset Levels

The place is fucking packed.

So what’s the smoking gun I hear you ask?

Well, four weeks ago I was stood at the top of Hill Field overlooking the farm when Sharon Buzzard landed in front of me.

She stared right at me and said

“Consider this a death stare love, death is coming, death will be upon you, transmitted within you”

I was shocked and surprised at this move. It takes balls to confront me at the best of times, let alone after I have watched someone piss themself.

I didn’t know what to say?! All I could do was follow it up with a

“Now it begins”… Like off of Robin Hood Prince of Thieves…

Any way since then we have become over run with rats and badgers. The wind and wet weather has acted as a diversion and farm staff have been kept busy battening down the hatches. We have had hey barns collapse, flooding in the yard and all sorts.

Don’t get me wrong we are acting on this. Knuckles the Magpie has assassinated two of these immigrant badgers with his new cross bow, but we are getting overrun. What’s more his fucking born again cunting Christian wife kicked right off when she found his little killing set up, complete with night vision. Fuck sake.

Jerry the Adder’s venom isn’t strong enough to do a badger in. God knows where the security snakes are even and Bandit the Honey badger (no relation - honey badgers are actually related to weasels – yeah work that out) didn’t exactly leave on good terms. He would have annihilated them.

So Sharon Buzzard has used good strategic planning to execute this offensive. She has taken into account many variables, such as the weather, the weak points in our security and the one thing that could actually bring me down: Bovine TB.

We can’t exactly test all these badgers either. They hide out deep underground, only come out at night and rarely kick up a stink. Tell I lie, they smell worse than rats’ arseholes. Speaking of which, they are here in abundance too. Beth the Manager has got everyone with a pair of boots on out shooting them.

I can’t tell her that she is being played and its just a diversion to keep the staff busy whilst badgers seem to be air dropping in around them all.

If the staff finish mending buildings and shooting rats they are bound to work out there are badgers all over the place.

THAT IS A BAD THING

Mad Harry the Vet will be called in on a whim and it will be all CSI Dorset round here with tents and white suits. Everything will be tested to within an inch of its life.

If there is the faintest sniff of infection and the truth outs… we die.

Its as simple as that Jock Strappers.

Its beyond negotiation.

The buzzards have laid it on and are no where to be seen. I sent Knuckles and Frank on a recon. Two absolute specialists -  couldn’t find hide nor hair of them.

This act of terrorism has been designed to test my state of mind knowing that those badgers are about. Keeping the staff of the scent whilst I sweat on it is genius.

All done remotely too.

Its left me feeling intensely anxious, full of anguish and dread.

In my opinion its gone beyond them wanting an apology. The buzzards must obviously want all out war. But in my darkest hour, in this frenzy of fright I’ve begun to bull up and pity their plight…

(#poetry)

…. The sorrow I will feel will be for their falling feathers as pain and annihilation comes their way… Yes, that's right - its time Jock Strapper’s, to go back to the

#Purbecks.

THE ADDER BITES!

By Jerry the Adder.

Hiiii

Happy New Year chaps and chapetts!

Jerry here and once more I’ve been told to tell you that I’m ‘Too hard for hibernation’.

Speaking of which I have fond memories of hibernation, although I have only done it once, back in 2009. Slept like a log, under a log.

Hope you all had a lovely holiday season! Mine was exceedingly refined. After beating Fortnum and Mason’s main suppliers in a mince pie making competition I turned my attentions to that quintessential German cake, the Stollen! I thought this Jerry would be rather apt at taking on those Jerries’ at their own game!

For those that don’t know Stollen is a bread like fruit cake with dried fruit, marzipan in the middle and covered with powdered sugar. It has gained popularity in the UK due to the introduction of certain German supermarkets.

Obviously I smashed the competition hands down. An impartial panel of snake phobic’s and bite victims gave me first place in front of the Lidl and Aldi variants.

It all boils down to the spicy rum I personally distilled a few years back. I lace my teeth with it and then bite the judges! Subsequently they start hallucinating and give me the win.

With all these enticing and damaging dishes I thought it poignant to present for you some yummy ideas for the January blues!

Especially to all you detoxing diva’s out there! The January diet is not fun at all!

Well > It is now! These dishes may sound a little hippy but trust me, they're flavours will make you very happy indeed, so why not have a go and give them a little chance?

To start: Baked peppers with egg and puy lentils!

These babies make a great main meal in themselves; say if you add a splash of broccoli and asparagus, drizzled with some lemon and lime!

You can use them as a side if you are grilling some fish or even preparing lamb!

But as a starter – gobble the lot!

So for four:

75g of Puy lentils

½ tsp ground turmeric

½ tsp ground coriander

½ tsp paprika

¾ pint of vegetable stock

1 tsp of chopped fresh mint

4 eggs

Some ground black pepper

Sprig of coriander to garnish

First things first:

Put the Puy lentils in a large pan with the turmeric, coriander, paprika and vegetable stock

Then:

Bring to the boil, stirring occasionally. Reduce the heat, part cover the pan and simmer for 30-40 minutes. If the lentils start to dry out, add some more stock or a little water during cooking.

Go on to:

Brush the peppers lightly with a little olive oil and place them close together on a large non-stick baking try, skin side down.

After that:

Pre-heat an oven to 190 degrees C or 375 degrees F or gas mark 5. Stir the chopped fresh mint into the lentils. Then fill the half peppers with the lentil mixture.

Crack on with:

Cracking the eggs, one at a time into a small jug or pitcher. Poor them into the middle of each stuffed pepper. Stir the edges of the egg white into the lentils with a fork – add a dash of pepper

Finally:

Bake those babies for about ten minutes or until the egg white is just set. Serve straight up and garnish.

Main Course:

Spicy chickpea and aubergine stew!

This will balance the blood sugars brilliantly after all the eating frivolities from December. (Sorry folks, Jock insists I use alliteration to death on each post)

For your four:

Get 3 large aubergines and cube them

Soak 200g of chickpeas over night

2tblsp olive oil

3 garlic cloves finely chopped

2 large onions, chopped

½ tsp ground cumin

½ tsp ground cinemon

½ tsp ground coriander

1 tsp cayenne pepper

3 400g cans of tomatoes

Basmati rice to serve

For the garnish:

2tblsp extra virgin olive oil

1 onion, sliced

1 garlic clove, sliced

A few sprigs of fresh coriander

One:

Place the diced aubergines in a colander and sprinkle them with some salt. Sit the colander in a bowl and leave to stand for 30 minutes, to allow the bitter juices to seep out of the flesh

Two:

Rinse the aubergine cubes thoroughly in running water and pat dry on kitchen paper.

Three:

Drain the chickpeas and put them in a large pan with enough water to cover them. Bring to the boil over a medium heat, then reduce the heat and simmer for 30 minutes, or until tender. Drain them thoroughly.

Four:

Heat the oil in a large plan. Add the garlic and chopped onion and cook gently until soft. Add the spices and cook, stirring for a few seconds.

Five:

Add the aubergine cubes and stir to coat with spices and onion. Cook for five minutes. Add the tomatoes and chickpeas. Cover and simmer for twenty minutes

Six:

To make the garnish, heat the olive oil in a frying pan and, when very hot, add the sliced onion and garlic. Fry until golden and crisp.

Seven:

Serve the thick stew with rice, topped with the crispy fried onion and garlic and garnished with a sprig of coriander!

Enjoy folks! And will see you in the spring time…..

WHO AM I?

How-do Jock Strapper’s!

Relax! I’m not really northern, just messing with ya!

In fact the last time I had a ferret down my trousers was when I was smuggling one out of a sheep farm near Harrogate, but that’s another story.

I’ve been a bout a bit. And have worn trousers.

Any way, the reason for this blog is that I have managed to secure a lot of new followers recently and I don’t want you all to have to trawl through previous posts to get a true sense of my nature and purpose.

If you want to read my first ever post however, here it is:

http://jockthebull.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/ok-people-are-you-ready-for-great.html

So really all I want to do today is just give you folks a bit of a recap as to who I am and what I do.

Sometimes town folk, horse cunts, politicians, filmgoers, crows, the middle classes and alcoholics take the likes of me for granted. They forget how hard I work, they forget the effort I put in and they forget why I’m good for them.

Word to the wise Jock Strapper’s… Do not be forgetting who the fuck I am.

I am a champion Aberdeen Angus stud bull with the tools of the trade to keep myself pumpin’ for you keep munchin’

That’s right! I help to make the beef jerky you sit and eat whilst dribbling down the bar maids cleavage or wanking over Manchester United.

                                                    Bar maid's cleavage: Dribble it

My children get stuck in your teeth. And you love it.

                                From me: To you.

I am absolutely fucking beautiful to look at. I am as black as the Ace of Spades and literally tick every box going.

I have a slave to wash my black ass called Cut ‘n’ Paste Wayne, have a massive penis, enjoy the company of cows, magpies and peacocks and furthermore; adders.

I am free from MSG, high in protein, anti-Scottish, with massive balls and the grace of an angel. But a black one. But not in an evil way.

I operate on a banter level of 9.68, which has been officially verified. However, I think it was tad wind assisted that day and as I’m such a fucking perfectionist, I am going to have a go at beating that score when I’m inside; in the bullpen.

My nose ring is made of pure platinum. Its deep rich colour offsets my blacked up self superbly. As I’ve already mentioned, I’m beautiful.

Aberdeen Angus can also come in ginger. But we don’t talk about that. WE NEVER TALK ABOUT THAT. Those cracker-ass versions are not welcome in my farm yard.

Yes I’m arrogant, yes I can be judgemental but when you have achieved all that I have achieved with still some way to go you can afford to be.

I once smashed one hundred cattle in three days and didn’t even get aids. Or thrush or discharge or anything. That was back when I used to get whored out to other farms to meet a significantly large demand.

I had my own pimped out ifor Williams top quality transporter which was toed by a John Deere 8530! You needed THAT much power to haul me up some of the hills round here!

Yeah, I’m that dense!

Inside my wagon I had top quality hay produced by some of the best post teen (ish) stable girls you will ever see.

                                ifor Williams: Palace on wheels

                      

However so much as they are lean and pink they can be annoying when they clip my winning rosettes to the side of my head colar, it can be a tad disorientating. But I don’t care that much because when they clip them on me I can smell them close up. The sweat smell has a richness to it at that age.

                                          Stable girls: Sweet smelling

However one apprentice bird once took a fucking liberty and pasted a few diamantes onto my head colar….. Yes it looked pretty but we have a principal at stake here gang… so I pasted her back in a really nasty way by arranging a date for her with our own resident pony tailed weirdo Cut ‘n’ Paste Wayne!

Ha! She now works in Boots…. Reckons there isn’t enough hygiene related products going to wash the memories of that one off. 

Gutted bitch!

Its great down here on the farm. I have lots of amazing friends who mean the world to me. The guy who owns the gaff lives miles away and is into tractor pulling, so that’s ok with me! The farm manager is easy to manipulate, but I think she’s doing some sort of online course thing to stop that?

Life long learning and all that, Jock Strappers!

Although, nowadays data back up is usually cloud based, or computers with massive hard drives, yet the farm office is scattered with blank DVD’s and is now really well lit?

She must have some really big assignments I guess.

So when you get people as fucking cool as us lot you get bell-end antagonists hell bent on disrupting things. You get hangers on, and people sticking their fucking noses in.

So hear this from me: To anyone who reckons they can disrupt things round here:

-       We are in balance now, I lead and others follow. I am very powerful. I have powerful friends too and I am scared of nothing!

Except perhaps….

                                          Badgers: Bring death to cows

TOMORROW: THE ADDER BITES!

                                            Jerry the Adder: 'Too hard for hibernation'.

                                           

My good friend Jerry the Adder (Too hard for hibernation) wants to help you detox this January! Yes, all you Xmas excess fatties take note…. Jerry’s expertise in food is going to help you get through it!

twitter.com/jockthebull 

- @jockthebull