If you hear reports of a middle-aged, overweight, matron of the parish
cycling along Norfolk lanes, from Fakenham to Wendling, on a Bianchi, taking
off the clothing of her upper body in the middle of the public highway not
once, but twice, today, at lunchtime, it was not me. Really it wasn't. It
wasn't me who had a bee fly down the front of her cycle jersey to end up
with a bee buzzing round her ample bazoomas. Twice. Really, it wasn't me
shrieking at the top her her voice whilst trying to stay upright on said
Bianchi at the same time as trying to rapidly remove her cycle jersey to
free the bee before it stung her left bazooma. Twice.
It was not me.
That is my story and I am sticking to it . Honest.