The identity crunch

No doubt you’ve heard about the worldwide identity crunch and how it’s finally hit the Warsaw. Sadly, I have to report that we too, have been affected.


As you know, it all started last year in Bognor Regis when unscrupulous identity sharks started giving away identities to any Tomcat, Dick or Harold Robins with absolutely no collateral such as loud noises or Tommy Cooper impersonations.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2e9mIj32Bgs&feature=related



They then sold on the risk to make-up farmers in Venezuela who tried to hide the extent of the identity debt with extra lippy and blusher. By the time that it was revealed that Kylie Minogue was actually Rolf Harris, all confidence was lost me kangaroo down sport.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_D-LmRNdQiQ



Our own crisis started when Catko’s at Dave Totoloto Wola ran out of cat litter. Lady of the house bought straw as a substitute. After playing with it and then eating a bit, Harvey started hopping around, shouting, ‘where’s dat wabbit?’ But it didn’t stop there - oh no. Thurber announced that he is in fact a repressed cat and now he feels comfortable enough with himself to release the ‘inner cat.’ Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, woof, that’s what I say.

The rest of the cats seem to be OK but it’s like waiting for a sugared mouse to explode.
There’s worse still. Even my own family has been affected. By brother thinks he’s a chicken. We’d tell him he isn’t but we need the eggs.

Sleep if you dare and wait for Dawn’s knock three times on the ceiling if you love me; twice on the pipe; means you ain’t gonna show.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LmBzqQPTGs

Name day

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Choking