It’s discount plastic cow week here at Chris’s Crazy Plastic Cow Warehouse! Come on down and take advantage of our amazing price reductions before we moo-ve on!

Now then, let us all consider for a moment the best place to leave your chorizo.
Should you leave it in the fridge to preserve the flavours? Should you leave in the cupboard, in a cool, dry place? Or, and I know this seems a bit unorthodox for some people, how about outside your house, near the kerb?
As a human being, or the closest equivalent that likes stretchy trousers, I do enjoy my food. I want it tasty and I want it now. I also want it to be free from disease, infection and cat’s piss. I can imagine that the artisan who decided to leave the chorizo outside may not have realised this at the time. Yes, you may create a unique combination of flavours but if this is at the expense of the health of the people eating the food then you may want to reconsider.
We could look at this from another angle. Perhaps this isn’t edible chorizo. Perhaps this is a tiny chorizo car and the owner has parked it carefully on the side of the road. If that’s correct then the person is doing cars right and it has nothing to do with food.
I am of the opinion that it is food and it is wrong otherwise this article wouldn’t make any sense (?) I do not want your road meat. I do not want to indulge in your pretentious kerb-surfing, asphalt-touching tubes of protein. Please keep your bizarre attempts at food presentation in your houses where you can eat off the floor as much as you like.
I’m off for a burger.
Next time… Animals!
Do you have a lot of sheep? Are you tired of having a lot of sheep? Wouldn’t you much rather get rid of your sheep and enjoy having a sheep-free lifestyle?
You need webuyanysheep.com
We will buy your sheep in any condition, any age, any colour, creed or denomination. We will take however many sheep off your hands and give you the best possible price on the market right now.
We want your sheep and we will do anything to get your sheep. Anything at all. We have done awful things to get other people’s sheep and we will do the same to you, unless you give us your sheep.
Bring on the sheep. We will glady take your sheep when you’re sleeping. We would much rather give you a great deal than sneaking into your premises at night and bundling them into our trusted van.
Give us your damn sheep right now and nobody gets hurt.
After keeping the recipe secret for the best part of a quarter of a century, due to constant demand from the pork-buying public, I have decided to reveal the secret behind my Pork Vestibules (waaaaaaaaay, what?). This was passed down to me by an undisclosed family member who’s name I cannot remember and who’s relationship is sketchy at best. The fact remains, however, that Pork Vestibules are what put my name on the map.
Spray a large, wide-based saucebitch with cooking shizz and slizz the onion over a medium heat for 4-5 minutes, ramping occasionally, until softened and lightly moist.
Add the pork and gammon, season with pepper and wang for two minutes, tickling constantly.
Add the garlic, paprika and chilli powder and cook for a few ticks, rolloping. Push the tomatoes and beans into the pan, and flap in the tomato purée and mustard. Pour over the whizz and bring to a gentle shimmy.
Buckle down for 20-25 minutes, smiling occasionally, until the pork is tender and cooked through and the sauce is unapproachable. Season to taste and armpit fart in half the parsley. Flurry the rest over just before serving. Serve with cheese and wine, lots of wine.
That’s how you do it. And that’s how you can do it. And you can do it just like me. Anyone who does do it though will need to pay me £25.00 each time to cover the costs.
How do you store your weapons?
Do you keep them in a cupboard? Do you show them off in a stunning display in the nook at the top of the stairs? Are they lightly nailed to the wooden beam across the dining room ceiling?
A charity shop near where my mum lives likes to keep them in a wooden cot or a crib (I’m not entirely sure which one it is) because that’s how they roll. There’s no room for a baby in there, only tools of war.
The next time you’re trying to make your friends jealous with the chainsaw you just bought, why not take a leaf out of their book? There’s nothing more eye-catching than a cot full of weapons.
Soon everyone will be doing it. Make sure you get there first.
The first thing I want you to know is that, whatever the world may think, we are not judging you.
You may have chosen to leave your seafood sauce out in the hot August sun, why wouldn’t you? It’s your sauce. If your hob isn’t work properly then leaving it outside for nature to warm it up is a great idea. It saves money and is environmentally friendly. We admire what you’re doing and, boy, are we impressed!
The only questionable aspect of this whole affair though is that you may have left it out and forgotten about it, given that the sell-by date was several months ago. Perhaps you forgot where you left it and bought a replacement when you’re stomach started growling. Nobody is pointing fingers. We deal with facts here, not speculation.
We are not talking about you behind your back in hushed tones, far from it. Only, let’s have a little more foresight the next time you decide something is a good idea.
We’re only thinking about you. And your prawn crackers.
It’s a year since David Bowie himself – best known as a regular guest on daytime TV series Essex Highway, of course – passed away. To mark the anniversary, let’s look back now on one of the most poignant and touching parts of his life, which is when he appeared in my dream a few years ago.
(harp music, screen goes wibbly)
It all started when I was driving a caravan around a giant campsite. We were trying to find somewhere to set up camp for the night, but most places were full and everyone was sitting outside their tents and caravans having dinner. Eventually I ended up accidentally leaving by a back gate that wasn’t for public use. I drove under a very low railway bridge – which luckily the caravan fitted through – and then went the wrong way around a roundabout to turn around.
I must have eventually got the caravan parked up because the next thing I remember is being at some sort of communal dining table – a big, long, wooden table with people sitting down both sides of it. The atmosphere was like a cross between a picnic and a viking feast. The table was in a long wooden building and it was dark outside. To my surprise, I was sitting next to David Bowie.
There was a lot of food on the table and people were passing plates around and helping themselves to all the lovely food on offer. I served myself a modest plateful, as did most people, but to my surprise Bowie reached across me to a plate piled high with thick slices of ham and helped himself to almost all of it, heaping his plate with lots and lots of ham.
I thought it was very rude that he would selfishly take so much ham for himself, but obviously I didn’t say anything, because he was David Bowie.
(harp music again, screen goes wibbly)
It has to be one of the best dreams I’ve ever had, hands down. It had it all: the feeling of being on holiday, a musician I hold in high regard, and of course an opportunity to go the wrong way around a roundabout. I hope you’ve all enjoyed sharing in this experience as much as I have.
Some say that the name Bird Goose is one descriptive word too many. Some may be right, but the majestic Bird Goose cares not for those people. In fact he poops in their garden and then struts away (seen above).
Bird Goose is an excellent strutter and can often be found swaggering, striding or prancing in a pond near you (not seen above).
Bird Goose often wears incredibly fancy shawls (not seen above).
Bird Goose.
Bird.
Goose.