Goes into B&Q and says "the missus keeps going on about this bloody Fifty Shades of Grey film, have you got any rope and duct tape?" The guy behind the counter says "sorry mate, we've had a bit of a run on them since that came out, we're completely sold out." The bloke says "OK then, give us a chain saw and some bin bags." Woof. Fucking cold today isn't it? That pavement's fucking freezing you know. It's all right for you lot with yer fucking shoes on. You fucking pansies. My little paws are frozen solid. Still, it's nice and warm and snuggly on me bed. A fucking king sized double that's what I've got, with me own special blanket on it as well. Me Mum and Dad say that they put that on there to keep the winnets off the duvet. The cheeky buggers. Winnets. Noun. The semi solidified pieces of faeceal matter encrusted to the hairs around a dog's ring piece. syn. Bum crumbs, Klingons.
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.