Wolf, flaming sheep and a bold women.

Just got back from my eighth, twelve hour shift in ten days. On the two days I had free, I spent quality time with my youngest daughter Little Miss.
We were in Cardiff, hopelessly trying to shop for accessories to match her prom' dress. I have no style at all and her style is .... well.....alternative.
I turn to her and say,

"We need help, shall I call Fluffy?"
"Yeh OK."

Fluffy is her older sister. She lives with her boyfriend, on the other side of Pontyhotpant.
I call her on the cell 'phone. No sooner do the words "shopping for accessories," leave my mouth, than she agrees to meet us in 40 minutes.

Fluffys little Fiat lurches left and bumps harshly into the agreed car park. She is nodding her head in time to 'Fat Man Scoop'. Wedged between the first two fingers of her right hand is an unfeasible long, fat, hand rolled cigarette.
She bounces enthusiastically out and instructs.

" It's too late to go to 'McArthur Glen' get in the car, were going to Wellfield road. I know a short cut."

She has changed from being my little girl to 'Wolf' the Harvey Keitel character out of 'Pulp Fiction'.

Sheep.
I heard a story of an incident, which was caught on a pubs CCTV.
Five guys arrive early for a wild night. For fun, they have hired sheep costumes.
After a few drinks and with the bar otherwise empty, one of them catches fire when another carelessly lights a cigarette.
Once he realizes, he first freezes in denial, then drops and rolls. This, it turns out, is not enough to extinguish the flames. One of his mates, feeling he ought to do something. Jumps on top, and consequently catches light himself.
There then follows a kind of 'flaming sheep domino effect'
If this wasn't funny enough, the story teller goes on to say that having watched these guys, dressed as sheep, on fire, running around in panic five or six times, (and you would watch it five or six times, wouldn't you) he noticed a man, out on the street, looking in through the picture window, holding a small boy by the hand. After the second sheep catches fire, the man holds the boy up so he can better witness the mayhem.

A bold woman.
This story came to me yesterday from a colleague, not given to exaggeration.
He was relieving himself at a urinal, in a night club in Newport, when in stumbles two, giggling, young, attractive girls.
This is not unusual in the city clubs of the South Wales coastline. Women spend three times longer than men in the toilet. In older buildings, this is not reflected in their capacities.
One girl stands laughing in the doorway, whilst the other goes down the line of urinals, looking around the shoulder of each guy to see their 'peckers'. After about the fifth one, she shouts, "you'll do." spins the guy around by the shoulder into the cubicle behind her and shuts the door. Her friend leaves still laughing.

Now, call her a 'slapper*' if you will, but I have to admire her technique, efficiency and audacity.
In less than six seconds, she's gone from zero, to control of a hand picked pork bayonet in privacy.
That's got to be some kind of record.

* Slapper- A lady whose vagina and morals are a little loose.