A farmer sits dejected in a pub, and one of his friends walks over, plonks a pint down in front of him (they’re nice blokes at heart, these farmers) and says “Bill, I ain’t never seen you look so unhappy even in the worst days of foot and mouth. What the bleedin’ 'ell is wrong with yer?”
Bill lets out a deep sigh. “Some things you can’t explain, John. Some things you just can’t explain.”
“Ah, c’mon Bill, I’ve known you forty-odd years, you know you can tell me anything,” pipes up John.
“Well,” says Bill, "It was that time of the morning and I was a-milking my cow. I took her to the barn, put the bucket underneath her and started pulling away when goldarned it if she don’t kick the bucket over with her left leg.
"So what I does is I takes off one of me braces, ties her left leg to one of the posts and starts again. Well blow me down if she don’t kick over the bucket with her right leg this time! I tell you, John, it was mighty peculiar, but I took off me other brace and tied her right leg onto a post.
"So, John, there I am starting again when tarnation, she swings her tail round mightily, slaps me in the face and I goddarn knocked the bucket over. Now, me, I like milk on my cereal and it was fast lookin’ like there wouldn’t be none left. So what I does, is I takes off me belt and ties her tail up to one of the rafters.
"After that, it was fine, so I finishes milking her. So, y’see I stood up on tiptoe and started to untie me belt from the rafter when, now that I had no braces or belt on, my trousers fell right down to me ankles - and then my wife walked in.
“Some things you can’t explain, John…some things you just can’t explain…”
Good Mourning!