Message to minister for calf rearing
And what the heck do they do, besides sitting on their backsides shouting at each other? But I think these sorts of comments are most unfair to politicians.
Politicians work hard, you can be sure of that.
You only have to look at a picture that appeared in this paper, last week, to see that for yourself.
In the paper was a snap of three politicians, ministers in fact, feeding a calf with a bottle of milk.
“Fair play, lads,” I said to myself.
It was great to see the trio at work, doing their bit, and, hopefully, making a few quid on the side from calf-rearing.
Some might argue that three ministers feeding a calf seems a bit extreme, especially when one could do the job at his ease.
But that’s not the way I look at it.
You see, a minister is a different class of an article to you or I.
He might be here one minute, and the next he could be in Dubai, meeting the Sultan of Brunei, or something.
And who would feed the calf back at home, with himself gone abroad?
This way, with the three ministers involved, there will always be one at home to warm a bottle of milk and keep the calf from bawling the house down.
Make no mistake, the politician is a clever operator.
They are simply using the head and working in partnership.
I was wondering if the boys have given any thought to expanding the herd from the one Jersey calf they seem to have at present.
I have a few Jersey bull calves floating around the farm right now.
They are outside my window, looking in at me as I write.
And a livelier bunch of calves it would be hard to find.
You couldn’t draw the milk fast enough to them.
Anyhow, I’d be willing to part with them for a small sum, or perhaps a not-so-small sum.
‘Twould be nothing really, a drop in the ocean for a minister.
As the ministers are well aware, a cattle mart is no place for them to go to try and buy calves.
I saw plenty of them going to marts, seeking votes in the run-up to this election, and they looked like ducks out of water.
They looked like the Yank in The Field.
And we all know what happened the Yank.
The Bull McCabe sorted him out, when he discovered him attempting to squeeze inside and buy the widow Butler’s field.
Sure, the field was always rightly belonging to The Bull.
The Yank had no call to it. He just couldn’t leave well enough alone.
But that’s another story entirely. My point here is that the mart and politicians don’t mix.
They wouldn’t have a hope of buying stock in the mart, so that is why I’m suggesting that I could become a sort of middle man for the ministers in their calf-rearing enterprise.
So, there you have it, I’ve nothing more to add today, only to reassure all who are voting tomorrow that politicians do work very hard and, if I get to supply them with calves, they will be working even harder.
