Shortly makin a load for four.

Shovin closer to the timber.

Three sheets to the wind.

Badgered to death.

Like a headless chicken.

Cold as a brass monkey.

Spitting feathers.

A bit under the weather.

As snug as a bug in a rug.

Waitin for me wake.

Reet gradely.


SO WHAT WAY ARE YOU?

Chris.