Francine Vanner


Oh, oh, I see! Running away, eh? You yellow bastards! Come back here and take what’s coming to you! I’ll bite your legs off! It’s not pining, it’s passed on! This parrot is no more! It has ceased to be! It’s expired and gone to meet its maker! This is a late parrot! It’s a stiff! Bereft of life, it rests in peace! If you hadn’t nailed it to the perch, it would be pushing up the daisies! It’s metabolic processes are now history! He’s off the twig! He’s kicked the bucket, he’s shuffled off the mortal coil, rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. This is an ex-parrot!

I don’t want to talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food trough wiper! I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!

Stwike him, Centuwion! Stwike him vewy wuffly! I cut down trees, I skip and jump, I like to press wildflowers. I put own womens’ clothing, and hang around in bars.


Discipline: Dressage

Country: Ireland