They perched themselves on the shelves of the wardrobe amongst Kathy's homeless shelter clothes and Karl's charity shop attire.
The hens laid eggs on the clothes or in Karl's cheap, worn out plastic loafers.
The inside of the dark, warm wardrobe turned out to be the perfect environment for laying eggs!
There were so many eggs, that Kathy started selling them from her front garden. She put out a table and a sign.
Sometimes the hens would venture out of the wardrobe and onto Karl and Kathy's bed, where they would sleep through the night with Kathy when Karl was away.
She was so drunk every night, she didn't even notice some of her hens sleeping next to her on Karl's pillow!
The mess they made on the pillow case went unnoticed and was never changed. Karl would just turn the pillow over when he was home!
A few of the hens managed to find the kitchen, where they ate the bits of food and crumbs which fell from the Mather's plates.
As Kathy usually forgot to buy hen feed, all the hens just ate what the Mathers ate!
They loved to sit atop the dresser in the kitchen and survey their surroundings.
Occasionally they would turn around, hanging their arses over the dresser top and let fly!
Kathy and Karl always had hen shit on their clothes and in their hair. Would anyone notice? No!
One of the hens took up residence in the oven of the Aga cooker. The door had been left open and the hen jumped inside and refused to come out.
You could just see these two black beady eyes peering out at you!
This hen's name was Martha. A big fat speckled hen with a vicious temper and was ill nat'ered and prone to outbursts of violence, where she would attack the Mathers and the other hens in the kitchen!
No one could go near the door of the Aga or put their hand inside.
Martha had become very possessive of the Aga oven.
It had become her home and she wouldn't share it or move out!
Martha stopped laying eggs and fell into a deep depression. If the Mathers or the other hens went near the open oven door, Martha would hurl herself around the oven, bouncing off the sides, making high pitched clucking sounds!
Martha took to sneaking out of the oven when the Mathers were in the lounge watching television.
She would sneak up on them and hurl herself at them claws first, tearing the Mathers faces and hands to shreds!
The hens laid eggs on the clothes or in Karl's cheap, worn out plastic loafers.
The inside of the dark, warm wardrobe turned out to be the perfect environment for laying eggs!
There were so many eggs, that Kathy started selling them from her front garden. She put out a table and a sign.
Sometimes the hens would venture out of the wardrobe and onto Karl and Kathy's bed, where they would sleep through the night with Kathy when Karl was away.
She was so drunk every night, she didn't even notice some of her hens sleeping next to her on Karl's pillow!
The mess they made on the pillow case went unnoticed and was never changed. Karl would just turn the pillow over when he was home!
A few of the hens managed to find the kitchen, where they ate the bits of food and crumbs which fell from the Mather's plates.
As Kathy usually forgot to buy hen feed, all the hens just ate what the Mathers ate!
They loved to sit atop the dresser in the kitchen and survey their surroundings.
Occasionally they would turn around, hanging their arses over the dresser top and let fly!
Kathy and Karl always had hen shit on their clothes and in their hair. Would anyone notice? No!
One of the hens took up residence in the oven of the Aga cooker. The door had been left open and the hen jumped inside and refused to come out.
You could just see these two black beady eyes peering out at you!
This hen's name was Martha. A big fat speckled hen with a vicious temper and was ill nat'ered and prone to outbursts of violence, where she would attack the Mathers and the other hens in the kitchen!
No one could go near the door of the Aga or put their hand inside.
Martha had become very possessive of the Aga oven.
It had become her home and she wouldn't share it or move out!
Martha stopped laying eggs and fell into a deep depression. If the Mathers or the other hens went near the open oven door, Martha would hurl herself around the oven, bouncing off the sides, making high pitched clucking sounds!
Martha took to sneaking out of the oven when the Mathers were in the lounge watching television.
She would sneak up on them and hurl herself at them claws first, tearing the Mathers faces and hands to shreds!
The
poor members of the bowling club who had to share the stone dividing
wall up the Mather'es back garden, Kathy's favourite place to hang her
and Karl's wet clothes.
Kathy usually forgets that she has slung the clothes onto the dividing wall and they can stay there for months on end.
They end up becoming part of the wall, covered in bird shit and moss, for all the bowling club to see!
In the winter these items of clothing freeze solid like a sheet of ice.
You can actually break bits off the clothing, like you would a piece of ice.
There are usually bits of the Mathers frozen clothes lying all over the pristine grass of the bowling club.
Chapter 6
Kathy, with her low IQ and alcohol soaked brain actually thought that if she kept hens, she would then be thought of by the villagers as being refined, upper class and being part of the surrounding farming community, not to mention thinking she could corner the world's egg market!
Kathy and would sit and discuss how they could go global.
How much land they would need and how many hens they should buy. They ordered 4 dozen hens, which Karl felt Kathy could look after while he was away.
It would give her something to do besides drinking all the time. He bought her books to read on how to feed and look after them. Kathy was excited about taking on this project!
They were going to be free range hens but Kathy still needed a large coop for them to go in and out of to lay eggs, sleep and shelter from any inclement weather.
The 4 dozen hens were delivered but there was no sign of the coop. As it turned out, a coop was never delivered as Karl couldn't afford one.
So the 4 dozen hens ran riot throughout the village and the villagers houses.
The phrase "Free range" was an understatement. A dozen of the hens had made their way to the village of Rannochglen, 8 miles away, where they settled in at Miss Brockwith's croft. They made themselves at home in the croft's coop where they lived happily with Miss Brockwith's hens!
Sadly, there were 6 of Kathy's hens lying flattened on the road outside Kathy's cottage. Another 6 of them moved to the bowling club next door.
Another dozen had split up and were living at various villagers cottages.
The last dozen were still living with Kathy. As pointed out earlier, a few roosted in the disused tumble drier lying in the front garden. Some lived inside Karl and Kathy's cottage, refusing to come out! These hens had become agoraphobic for some reason.
They took up residence in Karl and Kathy's wardrobe in their bedroom. They found it a perfect place to roost.
Kathy usually forgets that she has slung the clothes onto the dividing wall and they can stay there for months on end.
They end up becoming part of the wall, covered in bird shit and moss, for all the bowling club to see!
In the winter these items of clothing freeze solid like a sheet of ice.
You can actually break bits off the clothing, like you would a piece of ice.
There are usually bits of the Mathers frozen clothes lying all over the pristine grass of the bowling club.
Chapter 6
Kathy, with her low IQ and alcohol soaked brain actually thought that if she kept hens, she would then be thought of by the villagers as being refined, upper class and being part of the surrounding farming community, not to mention thinking she could corner the world's egg market!
Kathy and would sit and discuss how they could go global.
How much land they would need and how many hens they should buy. They ordered 4 dozen hens, which Karl felt Kathy could look after while he was away.
It would give her something to do besides drinking all the time. He bought her books to read on how to feed and look after them. Kathy was excited about taking on this project!
They were going to be free range hens but Kathy still needed a large coop for them to go in and out of to lay eggs, sleep and shelter from any inclement weather.
The 4 dozen hens were delivered but there was no sign of the coop. As it turned out, a coop was never delivered as Karl couldn't afford one.
So the 4 dozen hens ran riot throughout the village and the villagers houses.
The phrase "Free range" was an understatement. A dozen of the hens had made their way to the village of Rannochglen, 8 miles away, where they settled in at Miss Brockwith's croft. They made themselves at home in the croft's coop where they lived happily with Miss Brockwith's hens!
Sadly, there were 6 of Kathy's hens lying flattened on the road outside Kathy's cottage. Another 6 of them moved to the bowling club next door.
Another dozen had split up and were living at various villagers cottages.
The last dozen were still living with Kathy. As pointed out earlier, a few roosted in the disused tumble drier lying in the front garden. Some lived inside Karl and Kathy's cottage, refusing to come out! These hens had become agoraphobic for some reason.
They took up residence in Karl and Kathy's wardrobe in their bedroom. They found it a perfect place to roost.
Sunday, 28 July 2013
You
have the Mathers who are low class and dodgy breeding, with even lower
intelligence, living amongst decent hard working folk who are middle
class, not to mention the Douglas-Dalglish family and the surrounding
farms and estates who's owner's are old money landed gentry. Expensively
educated at Eton as were their ancestors.
There are some of the creme de la creme of society living in Lochglen along with countless middle class and upper class living cheek by jowl with Kathy's dirty crotchless knickers and Karl's greying, baggy, crotch hanging, stretched out elastic, skid marked y fronts hanging around the front garden of their cottage, flapping in the villagers faces as they walk by and on show for the members of the bowling club to see!
Even the Mathers sheets have skid marks on them! Who has skid marked sheets and how does this happen?
Do they double as toilet paper?
Is Karl still cruising the men's toilets of Britain wearing his skid marked pants?
Does he buy them like that? If so, where?
Were the y fronts brand new when Karl bought them and is it his ass that turns them into the soiled mess they are in?
The reason the y fronts are grey is that Kathy washes them in the kitchen sink along with discarded tea bags, spoons, mugs and the dinner dishes!
Is that why a villager spotted a pair hanging from a tree in the Mathers front garden with gravy on them along side the skid marks!
The Mathers do not have a clothes line of any kind outside. Their tumble drier is broken and is lying in the large front garden, door open with some of Kathy's chickens roosting inside. Kathy hangs the washing wherever she can in their front and back garden.
There are some of the creme de la creme of society living in Lochglen along with countless middle class and upper class living cheek by jowl with Kathy's dirty crotchless knickers and Karl's greying, baggy, crotch hanging, stretched out elastic, skid marked y fronts hanging around the front garden of their cottage, flapping in the villagers faces as they walk by and on show for the members of the bowling club to see!
Even the Mathers sheets have skid marks on them! Who has skid marked sheets and how does this happen?
Do they double as toilet paper?
Is Karl still cruising the men's toilets of Britain wearing his skid marked pants?
Does he buy them like that? If so, where?
Were the y fronts brand new when Karl bought them and is it his ass that turns them into the soiled mess they are in?
The reason the y fronts are grey is that Kathy washes them in the kitchen sink along with discarded tea bags, spoons, mugs and the dinner dishes!
Is that why a villager spotted a pair hanging from a tree in the Mathers front garden with gravy on them along side the skid marks!
The Mathers do not have a clothes line of any kind outside. Their tumble drier is broken and is lying in the large front garden, door open with some of Kathy's chickens roosting inside. Kathy hangs the washing wherever she can in their front and back garden.
This is why over the years the younger generation of Lochglen have moved away to Inverness and further afield!
Thre is no work for them in the village and travelling back and forth to Inverness in the winter is too dangerous.
Only if your parents own one of the outlying farms is there work and a future for the next generation.
Thete are still a few elderly and original locals, minus poor Hamish McDougall, who met his demise because of Kathy Mathers. Need I say more?
The middle and younger generation have sadly dwindled over the years, replaced with holiday makers who have bought cottages in Lochglen and only use them for a few weeks of the year.
The rest of the village is made up of incomers, who have settled and respect the ways of the village and strive to keep ways and traditions which have been in place for hundreds of years.
Living in a small village is unlike living in a town or city anywhere.
The village doesn't conform to the person, the person must conform to the village way of life. You must blend and fit in or you will be an outcast and undesirable like the Mathers and their kith and kin, who are never far away despite them living in neighbouring villages over 7 miles away.
The Mathers and their family have brought "The Beverly Hillbillies" to Lochglen with a touch of "Velveeta" and trailer trash thrown in!
Thre is no work for them in the village and travelling back and forth to Inverness in the winter is too dangerous.
Only if your parents own one of the outlying farms is there work and a future for the next generation.
Thete are still a few elderly and original locals, minus poor Hamish McDougall, who met his demise because of Kathy Mathers. Need I say more?
The middle and younger generation have sadly dwindled over the years, replaced with holiday makers who have bought cottages in Lochglen and only use them for a few weeks of the year.
The rest of the village is made up of incomers, who have settled and respect the ways of the village and strive to keep ways and traditions which have been in place for hundreds of years.
Living in a small village is unlike living in a town or city anywhere.
The village doesn't conform to the person, the person must conform to the village way of life. You must blend and fit in or you will be an outcast and undesirable like the Mathers and their kith and kin, who are never far away despite them living in neighbouring villages over 7 miles away.
The Mathers and their family have brought "The Beverly Hillbillies" to Lochglen with a touch of "Velveeta" and trailer trash thrown in!
Once a week the library van parks in the village square to allow people to borrow and return books.
There is a small village primary school where there are two teachers. One teaches primary 1 to 3. And the head teacher teaches primaries 4 to 7.
The school house is an old stone former home with large grounds which have been turned into playing areas and a small football pitch.
The school sits on the banks of the river Grewer which flows through Lochglen. The childrens laughter can be heard throughout the village.
After primary 7, it's off to high school in Inverness.
The children catch the school bus every morning in the village square. After school they catch the bus back.to Lochglen, where they're dropped off in the square in the late afternoon.
Any amenities needed that aren't available in Lochglen can be found in Inverness. It means the villagers have to.travel on the narrow winding road leading to Inverness, which is 20 miles away.
Not really a long way to go but during the long winter months the road is treacherous.
Most of the people of Lochglen have 4x4's.
When the road is covered in black ice nor even a 4x4 is enough!
The usual 30 minute journey becomes a 3 hour drive!
There are times when you can't go over 5 mph in a 4x4.
Villagers have been out on.their journeys home, where heavy snowfalls mean you cannot see the road ahead or in an instant the road turns into a skating rink!
Where your car takes on a life of its own. You have no control as the steering doesn't work nor do the brakes.
When caught in this situation, you must take your foot off the accelerator, steer into the skid to try to get it under control. Never ever touch your brakes! Instead, use your gears to downshift and try to slow down.
Even the most experienced drivers are caught out. In the winter the road to Inverness is littered with cars which have spun off the road and are half buried in deep snow in the verges between Lochglen and Inverness.
There is a small village primary school where there are two teachers. One teaches primary 1 to 3. And the head teacher teaches primaries 4 to 7.
The school house is an old stone former home with large grounds which have been turned into playing areas and a small football pitch.
The school sits on the banks of the river Grewer which flows through Lochglen. The childrens laughter can be heard throughout the village.
After primary 7, it's off to high school in Inverness.
The children catch the school bus every morning in the village square. After school they catch the bus back.to Lochglen, where they're dropped off in the square in the late afternoon.
Any amenities needed that aren't available in Lochglen can be found in Inverness. It means the villagers have to.travel on the narrow winding road leading to Inverness, which is 20 miles away.
Not really a long way to go but during the long winter months the road is treacherous.
Most of the people of Lochglen have 4x4's.
When the road is covered in black ice nor even a 4x4 is enough!
The usual 30 minute journey becomes a 3 hour drive!
There are times when you can't go over 5 mph in a 4x4.
Villagers have been out on.their journeys home, where heavy snowfalls mean you cannot see the road ahead or in an instant the road turns into a skating rink!
Where your car takes on a life of its own. You have no control as the steering doesn't work nor do the brakes.
When caught in this situation, you must take your foot off the accelerator, steer into the skid to try to get it under control. Never ever touch your brakes! Instead, use your gears to downshift and try to slow down.
Even the most experienced drivers are caught out. In the winter the road to Inverness is littered with cars which have spun off the road and are half buried in deep snow in the verges between Lochglen and Inverness.
Chapter 5.
Lochglen was one of many villages nestled north of Inverness in the Scottish highlands.
It had a magical air about it that no other village in the surrounding area had.
If you were fortunate to either visit, pass through or live there, you would always return.
It drew you back once you had glimpsed it. After that there was no turning back!
Lochglen had a long history dating back hundreds of years.
Queen Victoria had passed through to visit her old friends who lived in the imposing castle, high on a hill outside the village, surrounded by thick stone walls.
The castle has been in the same family for hundreds of years.
The family name is Douglas-Dalglish and has been linked with Lochglen for generations.
The castle is still occupied by James and Matilda Douglas-Dalglish, who can trace their lineage back to William the Conqueror.
They have the correct breeding and pedigree, went to the right schools and mix with people of similar upbringing. They are a proper old money family.
The family have always mixed with royalty, hence Queen Victoria passing through Lochglen in 1871 for a visit. Her procession of royal carriages which carried her servants, followed behind.
The locals at the time, lined the main road in the village to catch sight of their Queen as she passed through.
The men bowed their heads and the women curtsied, although they were used to seeing the Queen and her royal procession drive through Lochglen as she visited her oldest friends.
The current Douglas-Dalglish's are a regular sight in the village, with it's small Post Office, craft shop, general store, butcher and greengrocer. There are a few bed and breakfast dwellings, two small hotels where the locals and tourists drink and eat out at the weekends.
A surgery with two GPS, a Police house that doubles as a Police station and as the Policeman's living quarters.
Lochglen was one of many villages nestled north of Inverness in the Scottish highlands.
It had a magical air about it that no other village in the surrounding area had.
If you were fortunate to either visit, pass through or live there, you would always return.
It drew you back once you had glimpsed it. After that there was no turning back!
Lochglen had a long history dating back hundreds of years.
Queen Victoria had passed through to visit her old friends who lived in the imposing castle, high on a hill outside the village, surrounded by thick stone walls.
The castle has been in the same family for hundreds of years.
The family name is Douglas-Dalglish and has been linked with Lochglen for generations.
The castle is still occupied by James and Matilda Douglas-Dalglish, who can trace their lineage back to William the Conqueror.
They have the correct breeding and pedigree, went to the right schools and mix with people of similar upbringing. They are a proper old money family.
The family have always mixed with royalty, hence Queen Victoria passing through Lochglen in 1871 for a visit. Her procession of royal carriages which carried her servants, followed behind.
The locals at the time, lined the main road in the village to catch sight of their Queen as she passed through.
The men bowed their heads and the women curtsied, although they were used to seeing the Queen and her royal procession drive through Lochglen as she visited her oldest friends.
The current Douglas-Dalglish's are a regular sight in the village, with it's small Post Office, craft shop, general store, butcher and greengrocer. There are a few bed and breakfast dwellings, two small hotels where the locals and tourists drink and eat out at the weekends.
A surgery with two GPS, a Police house that doubles as a Police station and as the Policeman's living quarters.
Saturday, 27 July 2013
The
clubs secretary and chairman would come into the bowling club in the
morning to see small parcels in torn brown paper fluttering in the
breeze, with it's contents scattered all over the pristine grass of the
bowling green, along with Karl's gay porn magazines, ripped and blowing
in the wind, their brown paper wrapping torn to shreds!
All the small parcels were Kathy's dildos and vibrators she had ordered off the internet, which had come out of their carefully wrapped boxes and were scattered all over the grass!
If Karl was gone a week, there were gay mags and dozens of dildos and vibrators lying everywhere, along with Kathy's crotchless knickers she had ordered, which had also become unwrapped and had taken flight.
They were hanging from assorted trees throughout the village.
Now, I am sure you are wondering why one person would need dozens of dildos and vibrators?
Could some of them be Karl's? Could it be that both.of them are losing them up certain orifices in their bodies? Could it be their intestines have become a graveyard for the countless dildos and vibrators that have made their way there over the years?
The bowling club secretary and chairman were mortified and too embarrassed to go out and pick up Karl's gay mags and Kathy's assorted dildos and vibrators of different shapes, sizes and colours.
The chairman and secretary would just leave everything until the local street sweeper was on duty and he would clean it up. Until then, the members would just play around the gay mags and dildos.
A sight to behold!!
The street sweeper kept all the gay porn mags, dildos and crotchless knickers, which he resold on the internet and made quite a tidy sum from the items sold!
All the small parcels were Kathy's dildos and vibrators she had ordered off the internet, which had come out of their carefully wrapped boxes and were scattered all over the grass!
If Karl was gone a week, there were gay mags and dozens of dildos and vibrators lying everywhere, along with Kathy's crotchless knickers she had ordered, which had also become unwrapped and had taken flight.
They were hanging from assorted trees throughout the village.
Now, I am sure you are wondering why one person would need dozens of dildos and vibrators?
Could some of them be Karl's? Could it be that both.of them are losing them up certain orifices in their bodies? Could it be their intestines have become a graveyard for the countless dildos and vibrators that have made their way there over the years?
The bowling club secretary and chairman were mortified and too embarrassed to go out and pick up Karl's gay mags and Kathy's assorted dildos and vibrators of different shapes, sizes and colours.
The chairman and secretary would just leave everything until the local street sweeper was on duty and he would clean it up. Until then, the members would just play around the gay mags and dildos.
A sight to behold!!
The street sweeper kept all the gay porn mags, dildos and crotchless knickers, which he resold on the internet and made quite a tidy sum from the items sold!
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