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Some are evidently cracked and that sulphurous smell is escaping. Some are the products of a pullet and some have been sucked by Grandma, as in "Don't teach your grandmother to suck eggs". Do you know what? I'm beginning to feel sorry for Barack Obama who has to please this odd congeries, especially as Camille all but called him a stumblebum. No wonder he's been looking scared of late and seems to have lost the zing that had you all rolling in the aisles. I'd be scared too if I had to preside over this madness, although being a Lord of Misrule was said to be fun. All the best anyway with the devout hope that Oprah will be able to fit into her dress next Tuesday night and that the pheasant on the menu has been "hung" for just the right period of time and isn't over-ripe. Yuck. I, sure as shooting, hope Sarah Palin had nothing to do with the birds' demises(s).
