Sometimes silly shit floats to the top when I can't sleep. To wit;
A farmer had an old, old mare. A Belgian, a bit like a Clydesdale. That old mare had worked the farm for years, and the farmer finally bought a tractor. He loved that mare so he put it out to pasture and gave her a wonderful barn to shelter in at night.
Some hyper-active birds would take advantage of the peaceful nature of the old mare and they would actually build nests in the mare's mane. The farmer would shoo them away, brush out the twigs and stuff, but a few days later, the damned birds would be back, going about their nest- building business again.
At a loss, the farmer contacted an old vet and asked him for advice. The vet suggested to rub a little brewers' yeast into the mane, and that would stop the damned birds from building nests.
It worked!
(okay.. this is where it gets bad) The farmer, elated, asked the vet how on earth that worked. The vet took a drag off his pipe and whilst stroking his long white beard, he looked the farmer in the eye and said: "yeast is yeast and nest is nest, and never the mane shall tweet."
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