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Kaye Adams: The Farm would have been much better if animals were the real stars - and not boring celebs; TOMORROW night we can finally condemn Channel Five's The Farm to the silage pit.

Byline: Kaye Adams

A right load of horse manure. It's perhaps fitting that among all the Beckham revelations from la Senorita and Collymore's antics, not to mention their shenanigans, the greatest outrage was reserved for the 'pleasuring' of a pig.

What a wonderful euphemism that is - pleasuring.

I always associate pleasure with aged aunts having afternoon tea and scones accompanied by a gentle piano recital.

And perhaps that's what everyone else would rather think of too as opposed to what we all know it really means - snigger, snigger.

The expression 'to bed' is another good one. Look through the gossip columns of any paper or mag and it'll be chock-full of people 'bedding' each other. Sounds almost charming, doesn't it? Why spoil the illusion with 'they were out of their skulls and gagging for it'?

Anyway, back to that blissed-out pig. What's the problem?

That was actually a glimpse of real life down on the farm and I am delighted to boast it is perhaps one thing I could teach Ms Loos a thing or two about.

Not that have personally pleasured a pig, but I have seen a bull quite unable to contain himself. don't know what Ms Loos loves about her job - come to think of it, what is her job?

But what love about mine is that you find yourself in the strangest of situations. And they don't come any stranger than spending Monday with a bovine inseminator and the next day with a bull semen collector.

It was certainly an interesting day I spent with The Inseminator - sounds like a movie, Arnie.

He was a mild-mannered bloke with a boot-full of bull semen, stored in liquid nitrogen. And what glorious names his samples had, Thruster, Roger Ramjet and Gotcha.

You'd think they'd design a really long syringe for the main part of the job but, sadly, he was supplied only with a really long pair of rubber gloves. The collection end of the process is a bit more saucy.

Whereas pigs appear to be happy with a straight-forward manual approach, bulls enjoy a bit more of a fandango.

The donor is led into a paddock where a parade of the prettiest cows you ever did see are being walked round in a circle. He gets to trail around behind him until he gets himself in the mood and then, at the very last gasp, the cruellest of strokes is pulled.

Why am I telling you this? God only knows. All I can say is that my two days with The Inseminator and The Collector have stuck in my memory for years, which is a lot more than anyone will be able to say about The Farm. Maybe if they'd taken the boring celebrities out, they'd have had a real winner.
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Title Annotation:Features
Publication:Daily Record (Glasgow, Scotland)
Date:Oct 16, 2004
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