fcuk a dcuk
When I was three, my parents took me to the local Waterworks to feed the ducks and ducklings and the swans.

I was desperately trying to get some bread to a poor, bedraggled duck-runt but a big swan kept getting the way. I was yelling at it to "Go 'WAY!" but it wasn't exactly listening.

So I punched it right in the face.

My mum completely freaked and picked me up and ran away (swans are notoriously nasty pieces of work and it hissed and spread it's wings) and my dad couldn't move for laughing at the way the swan's neck had rippled and it's head had whipped round. Then he remembered some archaic law about swans being the property of the Queen and he legged it too.

First post and being a lady, no apologies for depth.
(posthumous mince is tiptoeing through the tulips, Thu 2 Jun 2005, 16:28, Reply)