I do enjoy running down a ditch full of mud, firing bullets. It’s the way I am. I love it.
The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful.
One of the last episodes was all about a flood. We were working in the rain till all hours, and it was muddy and it was cold and it was damp, and it was hours under the hoses. That was not pleasant. That was not pleasant.
The mud is cold when you're in the north of Scotland!
Apart from its dangers, much of Iraq isn't very interesting to look at. The landscape is flat and dun colored. The dirt just beyond the highway is littered with hunks of twisted and mangled metal, some of it the detritus of wars, some of it just unclaimed junk. The countryside looks muddy and broken.
I always dress scruffily, but at weekends I live in muddy Wellies.
I came face-to-face with a gorilla which was quite good, but it was a 10-hour trek in bad weather, up hills, covered in mud, with mosquitoes everywhere and when we got there the gorilla's just sat there doing nowt.
Well, it's hard to stumble And land in some muddy lagoon When it's nine below zero And three o'clock in the afternoon.
Your hooves have stamped at the black margin of the wood, Even where horrible green parrots call and swing. My works are all stamped down into the sultry mud.
