A 90 year old Welshman is taking a leisurely stroll around his home village, where he has spent his whole life. As he saunters past the landmarks, houses and streets from his youth, he starts reminiscing to himself.
“I remember helping to build that bridge when I was 25.” He mumbled to himself. “I worked my fingers to the bone on that project. But the people round here won’t call you ‘The Bridge Builder’ if you do that. Oh no, they don’t!”
“I remember building that house over there when I was 30.” He continued. “It was a back-breaking task. But the people round here won’t call you ‘The House Builder’ if you do that. Oh, no they don’t!”
“I remember building that tavern that I still frequent when I was 35.” He sobbed. “I worked into the wee small hours of the morning with no extra pay to get that place ready for the people of this town. So they can relax with a nice cold beer after they’ve finished work. But if you do that, the people round here won’t call you ‘The Tavern builder’ either. You can bet your last pound they won’t!”
“But if you fuck one sheep!”
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