Rubí Donkey writes her Rubí Tuesday blog.
So I will expalin about the drama of burra Matilde and the badnage. First I will expalin why we have to start any expalination with “So…”
Morris donkey, who is one of the last listeners to BBC Radio 4’s Today programme, tells me that any expalination of complicated matters these days must begin with “So…”
So somewhere there is a residential media training programme – probably costing as much for a weekend as the cost of the deposit on a one bedroom basement flat in Croydon – where politicians, financial experts, social commentators and anyone except ordinary people – learn how to respond to a media interviewer with unnatural grammatical constructions that give them an edge, like starting their expalinations with “So…”
JOHN HUMPHRYS: Minister, why is it that every simple task you turn your hand to results in chaos and complaints from the public that you are a complete wanker?
MINISTER: So, this is why I have introduced a new programme of reforms called, “This Time We Might Get it Right” so let me take this opportunity to expalin it to you. So my first point…
Note the genius of this approach. After the word “So…” there is a kind of acceptance that this is going to be a long and complicated expalination, after which there will never be any need for further questions. So, now that we understand the portance of the word “so,” I will now expalin about the drama of Matilde and the badnage.
So, once again, burra Matilde was limping around and looking tragic. This included loud braying at three o’clock in the morning which caused our Peasant to get up and visit in his pyjamas, shining a torch on Matilde. She limped a few steps and held up a front leg for the Peasant. He muttered reassuring noises and went back to bed. Next day he confidently said to Matilde, “Now we are going to put a nice badnage on your leg to sort it out!”
So, there followed an hour of chasing Matilde around level one, down the slope to level two, back up to level one, and much snorting and omnious warning kicks at the Peasant. Finally, the Peasant managed to get the head collar on Matilde and tied her up to put a badnage on her leg. Five minutes later, Morris had spotted the badnage, chewed it and pulled it off. Morris ran around several circuits of the field parading the fluttering badnage like a trophy.
So, we are now into the third day of the Peasant trying to put a badnage on Matilde. The third attempt. It’s looking good so far.
So, Morris took a lively interest in the new badnage but the Peasant chased him away with a fly swatter and now he’s lost interest.
So I’m just standing here defending the badnage. So, I’m sorry there’s not more going on, but that’s life in El Parral, and we can’t all be hanging on Donald Trump’s every last Tweet.