Yeah yeah. Back again so soon. Only I don't really consider this being back again on the basis that it's a Part II.
See this pile of my drivel for the preamble to what's to follow. I couldn't be stuffed typing it all again. Besides, I'm running short of pencils.
Back again? Goodoh. My second tag came from a two-legged dog not unfamiliar to me on the basis that, from time to time, she has been known to tickle my tummy and even, sometimes, on the odd occasion, clean up after I throw up.
This time, apparently, I'm supposed to reveal seven things no-one knows about me. Only seven?
1. I dribble. As distinct from drivel, a noun, though I'm on nodding terms with that, too. See above.
2. I'm nutless. I'm banding together with countless other equally abused dogs to mount a class action.
3. I've been known on the odd occasion from time to time fare un peto. I blame diet.
4. I would eat a horse and chase the rider for pudding.
5. I'm the world's greatest chicken-hearted coward with a yellow streak the width of Italy.
6. I'm fluent in Italian.
7. I share an abode with Barbra Streisand.
One or another of the above might be something approaching what could loosely be called a fib.