It's only 9am and I'm already in the doghouse. Just because there are two puddles on the kitchen floor this morning they immediately jump to the wild conclusion that I am in some way responsible, the tight bastards. It's a good job (literally) that they haven't looked behind the settee yet is all I can say. I may have to have that for my mid morning snack later. Destroy the evidence so to speak. I really am treated like a bloody dog in this place.
You couldn't make it up could you. I spent much of the weekend dozing on the sofa watching telly. Glastonbury was on, although sad to say there was no Snoop Dog, Bone Jovi or any other canine related artists. The big news seemed to be the lack of female headliners and now we know why as one scored a spectacular own goal. She missed her slot cos she was doing her hair. It takes ages she said. Why NOT start doing your hair well before your show time. Aaagh no where's my handbag I've left it in the car, I've got to back to fetch it.