Haas, age undisclosed, on Prince William and interior design
It ain’t ‘alf bad being a spoken for bun. I’ve quite happily left my wild years behind and settled down wif me missus, who also happens to be the softest bun for miles. How I know this? Now that would be tellin’ eh?
Sleeping rough ain’t nearly as romantic as wot Prince William made it look. I mean, how is a posh lad born in one of ’em palaces to know about rough, but I bet he ain’t ever had to bed down for the night in Albert Street, Banbury, orri’e?
The carrot versus parsnip debate is poin’less. It’s food, you ea’ i’, end of.
Interior design is a real stress reliever. I do sometimes miss my country mansion when I’m in the hutch, not much in the way of tunnelin’ action if you see wha’ I mean. A bit of scratchin’ around and messin’ about with the poo-poo tray usually gets it ou’ of me system.
Never talk about your exes. It ain’t fair on Katrijn and it’s too much honour for dem exes. Plus, Katrijn throws a mean left ‘ook.
The best way to deal with a vet is by playin’ nice. And then thump their table ‘ard as you can, they don’ like it nuffink when you do tha’.
I’ve turned down offers from modellin’ agencies. I fink posing for cameras is naff. I can’t ‘elp being cute.
If I could fix one fink about me appearance, I’d ‘ave me left ear fixed. I don’t care much for the way it points a’ 5 o’clock, 6 o’clock is much cooler.
I tried ridin’ a pipe once but I’m no circus freak so I gave it up.
Tunnelin’ is the greatest passtime when in the country. There is nuffink qui’e as sa’isfactory as a nice, freshly dug hole in the ground, mefinks.
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