Delilah's Weekly Whinge

Delilah wants a word with you. I wonder what she'll be worrying about today ...

Hi there, readers, I have decided to go on a diet. I want to try to get below 700 kilos. It's just really hard, because grass is sooooooooo moreish! All the grass also makes us flatulent, you know, and apart from cars we cows are the biggest cause of hydrocarbon emissions on earth, apparently. Every time we burp, we are destroying the ozone layer. So I don't know what to do! I can't give up grass, my life would be empty without it (or my bellies would be in any case). But I don't want to destroy the planet either. I suppose I'll just have to cut down on grass and stop belching so much.

I do like grass, as you may have noticed, but sometimes I'd like to do something with it, make it a bit more exciting. So the other day I looked on the internet for "cooking with grass", and it was just a load of stoners sharing recipes! Who'd have thought they'd have that much motivation? Very disappointed, I was.

I don't know really what to do with my life now we've got rid of the farmer, all this freedom has got me in a bit of a quandary. Kerry, in her usual, annoyingly high-pitched nasal moo, said, "I think it's better now without the farmer, because I can now sleep with whoever I choose. I was sick of the farmer making me pregnant with his syringe." "That's outrageous," I told her. I was shocked. "How can you say such a thing? It should be whomever I choose." I sometimes wonder what they teach our kids these days.