Auntie Doris’s Twelve Days of Christmas. #4: Four Calling Birds



Four days into Christmas, and you have potentially got ten ruddy birds cluttering up the house. And four calling birds are going to be making a bit of a racket too. Even if they were Colly birds, which are Blackbirds, if you really want to know. They would still be singing in the dead of night, moaning about their broken wings and sunken eyes and whatnots. I’m not a fan of ruddy births anyway. They make me nervous, flapping their wings and pecking all the time and their ruddy mess is worse than dog mess. At least you can pick dog mess up and put it in the bin. Bird’s mess is ruddy disgusting. Apparently, birds don’t do separate wee and shite, they do some sort of a mixture which is all runny and foul and if you had them in the house, it would be bound to soak into the carpet and be the devil’s own job to get out. Apparently there are a few creatures that wee and shite at the same time. I don’t know about fishes though. Me and my Raymond used to keep a couple of goldfish. Eric and Hattie, we called them. Although I don’t know wether they were really a man and a lady fish. We just thought that they were good names. Anyway, they usually had long strings of shite hanging out of their little arses. It might have had their wee in it too, I don’t know. You would think that what with all the water they had to drink, they would probably do a lot of weeing, but, then if it came out the same colour as it went in, nobody would notice anyway. Not like our Michael that time when he had to get out of the swimming baths because he had turned the water around him yellow. But then he always was a filthy little so and so, one way or another. He still ruddy is as a matter of fact. Anyway, another thing about goldfish… Do they trump? If they did, you would see tiny little bubbles in the water, which I never did see with Eric and Hattie. But then their little arses were always plugged up with those strings of shite anyway. And fish food probably isn’t the best food for brewing trumps with. Maybe if we had replaced their fish food with dried sprouts, we might have seen some interesting results. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that sherry before I started on this. I’ve quite forgotten what I was on about now. Four calling birds? Not a brilliant idea for a Christmas box. Tell them to get you something more useful instead. Like some dried sprouts. Uncle Raymond’s Christmas Cracker Cackle of the Day: “She was only the Accordionist’s daughter, but she could bring a tear to your eye with her strap-on.”

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