Have more in common than you might think. Accosted by those hot nymphs, the Bichon Frisé bitches Ella and Maisie for a bit of no holes barred fun and frolics whilst walking round the Valley Gardens again this morning. They simply can't get enough of me. Fame you see, that's what it is that drives females horny. Even David Blunkett is apparently fighting women off with the proverbial excrement covered stick (a white one in his case of course - the stick not the pooh, you simply don't see it in white anymore do you). I bet even his dog is no stranger to a bit of "strange" tail, once the girls in the park recognise him off the telly. I'm reliably informed by me Dad that Shep off Blue Peter was the canine equivalent of Georgie Best. Crufts winners, he had them all, even a threesome with a couple of royal corgis on the bandstand in Hyde Park I understand. Fame is a heady aphrodisiac. And I've got it. Pooh count: a weight relieving four.
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.