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I Say, I Say, I Say

What do you call a Russian vet? Kutsacatz Kokov. Woof. I fucking hate cats me, the lazy twats. All they do is lie around all day. Not like me, tunnels to dig, pig's ears to eat, bollocks to lick. I'm a non stop bastard whirlwind me. They just sit there looking at you don't they? Like the world owes them a fucking living, on the shed roof out the back, the dirty lazy twats. If there was a social security office for pets, us dogs would never get a look in for those lazy fuckers. Licking their arses, their own fucking dirty arses they lick, I kid you not. Fuck knows why they do that. I mean it must taste like shit for a kick off mustn't it? And then when they have a shit, what do they do? They bury the fucker! Why do that? Me Dad picks mine up, it makes me gip it does, but he seems to strangely like it. But no, they bury theirs, like they're gonna save it and come back and lick it later. The dirty fucking shit licking lazy bastards.

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Fucking Passwords

Create a password..... cabbage Sorry, the password must be more than 8 characters.... boiled cabbage Sorry, the password must contain 1 numerical character. 1 boiled cabbage Sorry, the password cannot have blank spaces. 50fuckingboiledcabbages Sorry, the password must contain at least one upper case character. 50FUCKINGboiledcabbages Sorry, the password cannot use more than one upper case character consecutively. 50FuckingBoiledCabbagesShovedUpYourArse,IfYouDon'tGiveMeAccessImmediatelyYouTwats Sorry, the password cannot contain punctuation. NowIAmGettingReallyPissedOff50FuckingBoiledCabbagesShovedUpYourArseIfYou DontGiveMeAccessImmediatelyYouTwats Sorry, that password is already in use! See  Fucking phone calls too
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My Mate Frank

Is a sheepdog and his two-legged is a farmer. Frank was out with him in the tractor drilling wheat last autumn and they unearthed a rusty old lamp. So the farmer hopped out of the cab to have a closer look at it and gave it a little rub on his jacket, as you do, and was amazed to see a genie appear and offer to grant him any wish he wanted. Well the farmer thought for a moment and then said "I'd like the price of wheat to go to £200/tonne!" So the genie sighed but said "OK, I'll sort that out for you then, you greedy bastard" and popped back into his bottle. And the farmer casually tossed the lamp into the back of his cab and got on with his drilling. Well they were out again this morning putting a bit of nitrogen on, Frank and the farmer, and the farmer spotted the lamp and gave it a little rub again, just on the off chance, and you'll never guess what happened, the genie popped out again, and said that he'd grant the farmer one more wish. So the fa...
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Snow

Bloody snow, I hate the stuff. It snowed here on Saturday, which meant that my Sunday morning constitutional consisted of me running around Horseshoe Field at Conyngham bollock deep in the wretched white stuff tying to put on a display of pleasure for the two-leggeds. "Ah look at him, he loves snow," they'd say. "Look at him running and jumping around in it." Well you'd run and jump around if your bollocks were dangling in snow wouldn't you? Me poor little paws were frozen solid by the time we got back to the car. Pooh count: two, both of them "steamers" - in fact one of them was giving off so much vapour it reminded me of Drax power station, except a bit smaller and browner obviously. And it probably couldn't have powered 20,000 homes in Pontefract. A small pensioners bungalow maybe. As long as they didn't have all the lights on, and the bath running. They don't have many baths pensioners do they? One a month maybe, so the chances ...
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