Get orf m’land

An otherwise splendid pootle aboot Wintonshire was suddenly interrupted by Sir Frankie who silently sped-up behind us in his electric 4x4 and proclaimed his objection to our presence on his estate, unless of course we intended to book our wedding. Since neither Chris nor I are in the market for his services we promised to exit forwith. Sir Frankie’s attempt to identify with us sounded rather like the old cliche, “some of my best friends are <insert minority group>, when he proclaimed, “I’m a cyclist too”…..but feck off anyway”.