Cycles and Cocks

My second ride was much more comfortable as Prince Albert pumped me up, greased my balls and lit me up.....and all while MILF looked on ! I was truly delighted that my bottom seemed to have survived the initial ride without undue discomfort, but as I lowered myself back onto my saddle, a bruised feeling emanated from my nethers and it took a little time before I considered myself comfortably mounted. MILF, Twinkle Toes and I decided on a flat 20k route and on a beautiful evening rode out in the sunshine towards the vision that is Carrickmacross . MILF and I took the lead, a bit surprised that Twinkle Toes was lagging a bit behind. We gave her the benefit of the doubt due to a recent bad injury and slowed to let her catch up a couple of times, delighted that she was back in our company and wishing her a speedy return to full fitness. Turns out her apparent slowness was due to the fact that she was in completely the wrong gear and for every single rotation we made with our pedals Twinkle Toes made about 6 at full speed. Prince Albert fiddled with her on our return and she noticed the difference. Plans are to head out again soon.
Three of the KOK's took on a might challenge this weekend, climbing Croagh Patrick alongside Rapid Ronan. The 3 who went, were in my opinion, among the biggest sinners in the group, so it was only right that they should suffer for their sins. The activity on messenger bet all as they asked what to bring, how many layers should they have, could they borrow boots, how many food breaks would there be....penance my arse ! One member then floated the innocent question, to another member, late Friday night on messenger " what are you wearing" which led to guffaws of laughter from the others, who said she had a filthy mind and dirty intentions and should say more prayers for forgiveness. Apparently their finely honed running legs were not really suited to climbing a rocky mountain and they have complained bitterly since of aching, sore heavy legs...proper punishment I say. Those of us with clear consciences offered advice, some sympathy but mostly smart comments.
While they repented, I attended the local football clubs family fun day and had a ball. Of particular success was the Cock a Doodle Poo competition, where you bought one of one hundred 4 inch numbered squares , until all 100 were sold. They were laid out on a grid on a white board surrounded by chicken wire and at 4.30 the whole parish gathered around the make shift pen, as one of locals ( with some squawking and squeeling...and that as just Chicken Curran !) placed the Cockerel in the cage. About 100 parishioners then stood staring at the slightly stunned bird waiting for him to poop on their square...I have never witnessed such excitement especially from my 6 year old who kept shouting at the poor bird " take a poo on 32 !" I questioned how long it normally took for a Cock to perform in these circumstances, but GASP asked me how I would feel if I was put in a cage surrounded by men bawling at me and eying my rear. I put my shoulders back and advised him I could remember a night just like that in my past, which led the local mechanic to nearly choke. As some of the children shouted repeatedly the number 88 , the bold Cock pooed right on number 88 to the delight of the 6 year old who won €100 and to my grave disappointment . I remarked how easy it appeared to hypnotise a cock, which caused a few women to burst out laughing and agree with me wholeheartedly.