They say that you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but I say that's bollocks. Well when I say "I say that's bollocks" I don't actually physically say it do I as I can't speak, I think it. Last week I learnt to pooh on the lawn not in the flower beds unless I want a kick up the arse from me Mum. This week I learnt how to roll on me back so that me Dad could tickle me tum. Next week I think that they are going to teach me how to get shit off me back. Pooh count: just the two, it's too hot to bother on days like this isn't it ......
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.