Tony Ble?

Bob Friog asked me to remember this joke, as the 'shrooms season is upon us and his ganglia are about to fuse for a while.

Rhodri Morgan is taking Tony Blair on the campaign trail in Wales, where Tony's going down like a Llanelli prop forward. They're driving through Breconshire in Rhodri's Datsun when they see a sheep with its head jammed in a gap between a gatepost and the wall.

"Sorry Tony, we got to stop. This is too good an opportunity to pass up," says Rhodri as he hops out of the car, drops his trousers and pleasures the sheep abruptly from the rear.

"Duwmarnuffarni, that was great," he yells, wiping his portfolio on the dashboard. "Your turn now, Tone."

"W-w-well, er, you know, I'd, kinda, rather not, if it's, er, all the same," says Blair.

"Go on, mun, there's no one around, enjoy yourself for once!"

"I-I-I-I'd r-r-really rather not, Roadree," continued the guano-faced PM.

"Go on, you's dissing our traditions!" says Rhodri.

"L-l-l-look, Roadree, I mean no offence and greatly value your unique way of life and that, but I just can't"

"Go. On." Rhodri advances on him like an old collier.

"I'm sorry," bleats Blair, "but there's just no way my head will fit in that gap!"

It works best when sung by a male voice choir to the tune of "Tydi a rhoddaist".