Rob, Rob: you're from the United Kingdom. You're sitting on your arse. (Although you're now living in Spain, so I suppose you might be sitting on a donkey.)
Oh well, that's a nice note (bum) on which to wind up the evening.
Actually, I just finished watching an old videotape I'd copěed years and years ago, which was something called The Real Sixties
or very similar. It was about all the usual London suspects of the era, and hugely sentimental for me, but almost totally inaudible. A whistle and a garbled sound was the best I could get. But the visual side worked not too badly. Handsome dog, was Bailey, and Shrimpton was even more beautiful and photogenic than I remembered her to be. It was indeed a magical period in time, and I wish it had never gone away.
Ass or donkey - well, I'm no vet! Like so many things in life, I can't tell them apart.
I bet the makers of all those brown donkeys also wish that times had never changed, but perhaps Customs officials don't see it in quite the same light...