Today is Doris day

Hello everyone, I hope you are all fine. On this chilly day I will be introducing Doris, the cocky, rebellious adolescent daughter of our great leader Daisy. Here is a picture of Doris.

To give you a bit of an insight into Doris’s relationship with her mother, here is a typical conversation between them.

“Can you be quiet please, Doris?” said an exasperated Daisy, rolling her eyes after yet another indiscretion from her daughter. “I need to concentrate – I’m about to go online to look for information on how to set up our farm.”

“Okay, but when you’re online, can we send an email to some poultry to ask them if they want to come and be eaten?” Doris requested.

“Stop going on about meat, Doris,” Daisy answered. She was clearly getting increasingly annoyed.

“Oh, come on,” Doris pleaded, “I heard chicken’s really good. Apparently it tastes like human.”

“Even if that is the case, Doris,” sighed Daisy, before adding in an uncharacteristically condescending voice, “I don’t think you’ll find any chickens who actually want to be killed and eaten.”

“You might on the Internet,” said Doris optimistically. “There are all sorts of freaks out there.”

“That may be the case,” said Daisy, infuriated by the interruption but desperate to stay calm like a true leader, “but I’ve got more important matters at hand.”

“At hand?” Doris said with a look of surprise. “Are you still a cow?”

“Moo,” said Daisy.

“Okay, I believe you. You carry on with your work. I’ve got important things to do as well,” said Doris as she disappeared to masticate.

From this short snippet I hope you can imagine the stress Doris constantly causes her mother. Doris’s heart is in the right place, but she sometimes seems to do things solely with the aim of causing trouble. Anyway, here is the cow in question. Over to you, Doris

Hello, readers! Today I am holding a special competition. What you have to do is write something that will scare Morag, and whoever frightens her the most will win a fantastic prize – 600 kilogrammes of prime Highland beef! So get creative!

I’m getting really sick of Angus constantly trying to sleep with me, I can see him in the distance with a lascivious and lecherous look in his eyes. I mean, give me some credit, I wouldn’t sleep with him if he were the last bull on earth – as well as his abysmal personality he is, erm, how can I say this in a polite way, he’s a bit on the small size. So despite what he might tell you, he is in fact hung like a man.

My mum takes herself far too seriously, so I of course am duty bound to make every effort to infuriate her. That's what adolescence is for, isn't it? So I think I'll strogan off now and do something to really get on my mum's udders. Ciao!