All things Summer Wine seem to be permanently embedded in my mind. A couple of days ago, when something went wrong at home, I found myself exclaiming "what the blood and stomach pills is going on?"
Later, family discussion turned to ferrets and the strange fact that their poo stinks like nothing else. "How could Compo bear to have them in his trousers?" I asked, to some bemusement.
This is all true. And when we stepped outside to find that the weather had turned foggy, I said: "Look - it's gone a bit Dewhurst."
Does anyone else have the same affliction?
Later, family discussion turned to ferrets and the strange fact that their poo stinks like nothing else. "How could Compo bear to have them in his trousers?" I asked, to some bemusement.
This is all true. And when we stepped outside to find that the weather had turned foggy, I said: "Look - it's gone a bit Dewhurst."
Does anyone else have the same affliction?
