A conversation, in the vicinity of Shap Fell on the M6:

“By ‘eck, they’re hardy sheep up here.”

“They must be. Some of them look pretty fat, though.”

“Does that make them lardy hardy sheep?”

“I guess it does.”

“You know the way they baa — do you think they’re telling each other stories?”

“That would make them lardy hardy bardy sheep.”


“Some of them look a bit fed up, don’t you think?”

“You mean — lardy hardy bardy mardy sheep?”


“Hey, those just scampering up the fell to join the others!”

“They’re late, huh?”

“Yes, they’re…”

“Lardy hardy bardy mardy tardy sheep?”


“Can we stop now?”

“I think we’d better.”

1 Comment

  1. Baaaa, that’s lambentable, if not a little sheepish. Although I really don’t know what the flock yew’re talking about, it’s all a little wooly!

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