For quite a number of years Boris got first place in the annual Grow-a-Spud-in-a-Pot competition. Then, one year he was beaten by Hector. That was the last time that happened. Every year after that, Boris came first. Year after year, everyone else’s potatoes died of the blight.
Boris went to Ireland, and lost. Then,…….
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… he was in an Irish stew…
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Boris the blighty boar! I enjoyed the understated, almost whispered, unfolding of the trail.
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This was one of those stories that I kept taking off the schedule I so despised it! However, yesterday I thought “Get rid of it” – so it’s posted and now it can’t keep popping its head up.
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I like this one.
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It’s not the one of which I’m most fond!
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Mmmm, I wonder where he got that virus?
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