Press your red button now

My staff seem to be dropping like flies at the moment. First Mrs Burroughs gets the flu from which she is still suffering, then Kipper disappears off the face of the earth. Nobody has seen him for days.
Then, to cap it off, the crowning turd in the water-pipe, Raggy, my Domesday butler has taken ill. An old guy came to the Hall the other afternoon and introduced himself as Raggy's son. He must have been 65 if not more. Anyway, he told me that his father apologises but will need a couple of days off to rest as he is not feeling all that well. I said it was fine and to pass on my best wishes.
To be totally honest, I don't need him but he seems so happy tottering around here, dusting, cleaning, putting bloody stuffed Hedgehog's in the bathroom.
Raggy wasn't too clever the other afternoon before he left off come to think of it. I heard him drop the dustpan and went to see if he was alright and found him in a bit of a flap as he had snagged the line from his piss-sack on the tail of a stuffed Muntjac and he stood there looking like a garden sprinkler with the contents of his bladder-bottle spraying all over the tiled floor.
I wanted to ask if he was okay but had to walk away before I started to laugh.
Harsh, I know but you should have seen him - he looked like a urine Vesuvius.

I had a bit of a result the other evening when a rather lovely little sort from the hunt asked if I fancied a night out with her as she wanted some company for the evening and that it would be good to catch up.
We went a little further afield and ended up in a Thai restaurant. I have to say that for me it was a bit of a new experience but one that I rather enjoyed. Mind you, with my current dining situation, anything makes a change from dining with Colonel Sanders.
The waitress asked if I would like rice with my meal so I said yes. She then asked what sort of rice I wanted and so I replied "pudding".
She just shook her head.

After another meal with The Colonel the other evening, I couldn't be bothered to go out so I put the telly on in the drawing room. It was fairly late and there seemed to be a good few Casino and gambling programs on. You had to ring in your credit card details and then you could join in via your remote control or something similar.
Anyway, I flicked through a few channels and found one where they showed you various items and you had to guess the price as it decreased and would eventually stop. I was fairly good at it and guessed the price several times so I thought I might be able to win a pound or two so rang in, gave my card details and played on. I did rather well and guessed the price just before it ended time and time again.
Yesterday I had a pallet arrive on a lorry which I had no idea what it contained. I signed for it and then decided to see what on earth it was. I opened the boxes and they contained all sorts of stuff - a woolly hat, a plastic tulip in a pot, some designer sunglasses, a woman's sheepskin coat, a set of fondue forks, an electric cheese grater, a pair of suede children's slippers, a battery powered egg-whisk and a sump for a Mk.3 Cortina.
Turns out the other night it wasn't one of those casino programs after all.
It was f*cking QVC....