Kune kunes are a favourite of children everywhere. Curtis is no exception.
Bark In The Park and Other Dogs
Ben, Bonnie and I went to the Dog's Trust Bark in the Park event this afternoon. Miss Martha and her people went too. We entered Gracie, Maya and Bonnie for the Prettiest Bitch but they were outclassed. Bonnie entered the Best Rescue Dog and came fourth! She hadn't even combed her hair! I think Ben charmed the judge into it. She was rather pretty. Just his type, which tends to be tall, slim and around thirty. The picture above shows Miss Martha and Miss Gracie discussing Bonnie's chances.
Ben takes his responsibility as dog handler very seriously, while Bonnie waits confidently for her prize. She wasn't as cocky when she visited the vet's tent for a free consultation.
Bonnie after she'd escaped from the vet.
Then what did I go and do? Only went to Dunloy to pick up Bert's new van and coincidentally take a look at the mechanic's litter of collie-labrador crosses.
And took one! Her name is Judy (Pearlie picked it) and Bonnie and Paddy hate her. But Pearlie likes her and so do we. Oh what have I done!Little Diva Pooper Parties
A Beauty Parlour has opened in the village in which I work. There is a pink poster in its window which announces 'Little Diva Pamper Parties'. You can imagine my disgust. I daresay this village is full of little divas (in my day we called them brats) but the last thing they need is encouragement with 'pamper parties'. I have a far better idea that would encourage the 'little divas' to be useful members of society. This village is also full of people who don't clear up after their pooches. I would gather up a party of divas, dress them in pink tutus, pink wellington boots and pink rubber gloves and provide them with pink rubbish bags and send them out lifting dogshite. I reckon the spectacle would shame those criminals who allow their dogs to cover the place in dog-doings. Afterwards we'd party like it's 1999.
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Merry Sodding August
Earlier today I met up with Ganching for a coffee in the local garden centre. Ganching was tempted by the soup but I pointed out to her that charging four pounds and fifty effing pee for a bowl of stinking soup was seriously taking the piss.
As we were leaving the server was putting up a plastic Christmas tree and she'd already hung up a fine display of felt Christmas stockings. The entrance was crammed with large plastic Santas and hideous reindeers. In bloody August! In the school holidays! I'm never, ever going there again.
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As we were leaving the server was putting up a plastic Christmas tree and she'd already hung up a fine display of felt Christmas stockings. The entrance was crammed with large plastic Santas and hideous reindeers. In bloody August! In the school holidays! I'm never, ever going there again.
Big Strong Man
Bert, his godson Ben and my own self were sitting in a fish and chip café this evening. There were only two other customers, two chubby, middle-aged men tucking into big chip suppers. We were waiting to be served.
One of the servers came down clutching a jar of gherkins. She said to the chubby fellows,
Gentlemen I hope youse don’t mind me interrupting your meal but could one of you open this jar for me?
One of the men took the jar and opened it.
She gushed,
Thanks so much! I had to ask you for youse are the only men in here.
I looked at my Bert, looked upon his beardy face and admired his strong sinewy arms and large capable hands. I laughed (weakly). He laughed (in a manly kind of way). But I felt slighted at her assumption that my man was a wimp. Our meal came. It was shite. I’m never eating there again.
