On one of our walks, me and Julie were passing through what we would call the 'posh' part of town and admiring/envying the houses and surroundings. On the wall around one house, however, there was a plastic owl. I suppose having a beautiful house in a nice area doesn't guarantee the taste of the person owning the house.
Anyway, for some bizarre reason, this owl gave Julie an idea for getting me out of bed in the morning (which is admittedly a difficult job, and one not made any easier by the fact I have this ability to turn off my alarm without even waking up. No mean feat if the clock is on the other side of the room).
Now see, my problem sometimes is that I have a very active imagination. When Julie came up with this foolproof plan, I suddenly had this mental image of an owl clocking off from his job, winging his way home and stopping off at the shop down the road for the paper and a pint of milk. As he gets back, he puts the kettle on, makes himself a cuppa and goes up to his room to kick back and relax, read the paper and listen to the radio. On his way past, Oswald gives my door a hefty kick and calls, "Come on, you lazy sod. I KNOW your alarm went of half an hour ago..."
From beneath the duvet, two fingers appear and salute the owl, "Morning to you, too, Oz ye noisy git."
And so begins another weary day...