Dove is a many splendoured thing

I recently remebered that I had run over a white pigeon.

I also remembered that a white pigeon is a dove and dove's represent love.

Does that mean I have killed love? And if so, who's? Mine? I was test-driving my Dad's car at the time so does that mean I killed his love?

Could be why I am now single and he is having an affair.

Although I am only single-ish and if he's having an affair surely he has too much love. In fact we're both love-abundant: labundant. (Way better than labotomy).

In which case. Maybe we should all kill doves. I am now pro-dove hunting. I'll organise it. It'll be like a mini fox hunt and we can use guinea pigs as the beagles and ride on large dogs. What a sight we'd look charging through Trafalgar Square! Incidentally, I like it when you squeeze guinea pigs and they make that squeak noise. They can be our bugle equivalent.

Speaking of squeezing things, squeezy cheese is never acceptable. Especially the prawn flavour one. I can think of few things worse and they involve bodily waste and would never be spread on my toast either. Conversely, I like the idea of Cheese-Strings. Stringy things fine, squeezy things not fine.