It was the week before Easter ...
|Oi, mate, that's MY donkey!|
|Oh, look what we've resurrected.|
We rejoice that a miracle has occurred: Berry has grown a new tooth since he last MC-d. (Image unavailable, and probably unsavoury!)
A distinct element of jazz crept into the proceedings.
Several times we heard this unnecessary apology: “Sorry, it’s not folk!”
Worry not … I ain’t heard no horse singing it! (attr. Louis Armstrong.)
However, there was a regrettable paucity of our customary rustic metaphor and euphemism.
|Blowin' my blues away!|
|Name this female aviator who was lost, mysteriously, in 1937.|
|Another rule to live by.|
... and YES, the club will be meeting on
Good Friday, 29th.