I'd like to think
that if I knew I were going to get caught, I'd buy a goat and a strip of land outside my front door, letting it graze up and down to keep it short and bouncy for guests, also employing a fair maid to milk the goat and sell its cheese from a stall to the side.

Then I could charge my honorable colleagues for keeping them off the front pages.

Something tells me it's way past bedtime...
(MrOli is ugly, but in the morning you will be sober, Mon 18 May 2009, 23:04, Reply)