Love a duck

I have a friend who rather enjoys a good duck. If he could, and he often does, he will have one in the morning and another at night. I have even heard tell of him phoning his wife to tell her he is coming home for a duck in the afternoon.
The guy is insatiable.
Personally, I have never yet had one that satisfies me. I am told I am strange in that regard. There are few indeed, I am told, who do not enjoy a good duck. Even when it’s not done right, it’s good, I am told. Yes, I am told. In other words, people talk a lot about ducks they have had. And will have. It seems an obsession for them; one I, somewhat sadly, cannot share.
But is that indeed symptomatic of my strangeness? Am I indeed unique in that regard? I think not. Whilst I have nothing but circumstantial evidence for this contention, I can point to quite a number of people who, through their demeanour, and their silence on the subject, give every appearance of never enjoying a duck or indeed perhaps never having had one—of note, anyway:

 Helen Clark
 Tariana Turia
 Gordon Brown
 George Bush Jr (but not, sadly, senior)
 Tom Cruise
 Geoff Boycott
 Most Canadians
 All Dutch
 Greenpeace activists
 Green Party
 Osama bin Laden

But, like many on this list, I can be “turned”. In fact, I am receptive to a duck right now—right now, as I write. Right now, as I look out my window and at my brand new fire-red BMW, called Pricilla, and a f**king duck sitting on the bonnet! Oh yeah, you had better believe, and here I put my wife on notice, I am in for a good duck tonight on a plate!

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