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A horse named Colin

April 17, 2010

Lansdown-Wesley’s trusty beast of burden is no donkey.  The minister knew that  a loyal packhorse is needed to carry forth the good man’s message through the length and breadth of  Ashton Gate.  Proudly bred in the backstreets of Bedminster, Colin the talking dray is now believed to reside in thoroughbred mews in leafy Clifton.

And talk he does.  Its no circus trick.  Dangle a prepacked carrot in front of his nose and he says     “tesco” or “sainsbury”.  Show him a lush green field and he will utter the immortal words “former landfill site”.  When or where Colin developed these amazing talents is lost in time but its believed that they are only temporary so long as he has his masters wishes to fulfill  (convert the non-believers). For instance,  Colin the wonder horse is known to revert back to form occasionally.  Mention the outlaw Bob Cook of  North Somerset Council and he will begin frothing at the mouth. With eyes bulging and snorting “NAY  NAY”, he’ll stamp his hooves and display an ample rump at the offending heathen.

This strange behaviour  has vexed the non thatcher swilling artisans who have asked the vet-surgeon general for a cure. The prescription is as follows:

1.  More Greens in diet required.

2.  No more pies (in the sky).

3.  Oats must be got twice  a day, (from local community shop)

4.  Six months  out to graze with the bible-bashers of Wraxall.

grazing with the bible bashers

out to graze with the bible-bashers


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