Apparently the male Capuchin monkeys piss into their hands and rub it all over their bodies as female tufted capuchins "become more active when they smell the urine of sexually mature adult males." The dirty bastards, what's wrong with fox shit, don't they have that in the jungle? We've got loads of it round here, I could sell them some if they wanted. Or I could bottle up some of my finest Border Terrier wee and sell them some of that if they were interested, me Mum says it leaves funny patches on the garden anyway. I'll see if me Dad will set me up a little website to get marketing the stuff. weeBay I think I'll call it. Satisfaction guaranteed, me bitches in the park find it irresistible. You can have your money back if you don't pull with a couple of dabs of that behind the old lug holes I'm tellin' yer.

What's going on with News At Ten? Fiona Bruce appears to be having the week off, fair play to her. I simply hate those stupid braided edged jackets that she wears anyway. Now the bird that is replacing her seems to shop at the same place too. They must have seen her coming as they simply have to be be the only two women on the planet that think those things look nice. What is going on? And who is that other blonde chubby munter that they've got on there? Christ, it looked like the opening scenes from the Trinnie and Suzannah show tonight. Still, at least we didn't have to endure the thoughts from Washington of that "one eye up the chimney, the other in the pot" bloke. I mean I'm all for equal opportunities for all and all that, but why can't we just have topless women reading the news? No silly jackets. Just fit birds with their kit off reading the news. "We'll now pass you over to Moscow where it's so cold that Fifi's nips are standing ou...

Me Dad had me wetting meself today recounting the story of one old timer in the grain business who insists on have the collection details for anything he buys within about 30 seconds. "Dave, Dave, I've got to fax the details to the haulier NOW." This is for something that is for collection in three weeks time. The same bloke once sold one of me Dad's customers a load for collection "as available" May. Me Dad's customer asked all the way through May if the boat was in yet, only to be told no it wasn't. Eventually on the 30th of May they said OK well we'd better have a fixing for tomorrow then, as it's the last day of the month it has to be available then. The old guy eventually came up with the numbers at 4.30 in the afternoon on the 31st. Obviously the customer didn't collect the load at that late stage as he amazingly didn't have a lorry hanging around on Humberside on doing nothing on the off chance that some numbers were eventually...

This sort of thing happens to A list celebrity canine bloggers like me all the time. Walking round the Valley Gardens this morning and was virtually dragged to the ground and raped by a couple of young playful Bichon Frisé bitches called Ella and Maisie. I mean what is a testosterone filled border terrier like moi to do apart from join in with gusto. The thing is when your as famous as me you never know what they're going to be saying in the papers tomorrow when this sort of thing happens. "Dogging in the Park" or "My three in a flower bed sex romp shame". I'm starting to realise what it's like to be an England footballer. These two little hotties this morning were positively being egged on by their enthusiastic owners who I can only refer to Ms X, aged 21 and a size 8 and Mx Y, also aged 21 and also a size 8 (amazing coincidence that one). One of them even gave me a biscuit at the end of it all with a promise to "see you again next time". Soun...

Yes boys and girls miracles do happen, as Muffy the death's door guinea pig is running around her little hutch like Zola Budd this morning. Maybe she was just having an off day or something, but the empty shoebox has been put back into the cupboard, at least for now. They didn't throw it away obviously as you never know when it might be needed again, pets pop their clogs with alarming regularity around here. Pooh count: just the one, but the morning log is a particularly satisfying one I find. A bit like you lot and your first cup of tea of the day I suspect.

Three Brits have gone down with that E.coli jobbie according to the Beeb. All of them had visited Germany recently, so it serves them right if you ask me. The health authorities here are saying that "people travelling to Germany should not eat raw cucumber, lettuce or tomatoes and that they should seek medical advice if they have bloody diarrhoea." I had that once. And very tasty it was too. And that boys and girls is what chicken jalfrezi is, except without the chicken.

The Grim Reaper looks like he's coming round our way again. Muffy the guinea pig apparently has the look of something that isn't likely to be with us in the morning. How many is that we've lost of late, I'm losing count. Stanley the cross-dressing transsexual guinea pig seems to have kick-started some sort of trend. What is it they say, in the midst of life we are buried in an Adidas shoe box at the bottom of the garden. My only concern is will the two-leggeds be able to dig deep enough to shoehorn another one in after the lack of rain? If not we may need to resort to a funeral pyre. But if we do that we'll have all the cats in the neighbourhood round, and a few stray Patagonians too I shouldn't wonder. It's almost put me off my tea. Almost, but it was sausages. Looks like it's just me, Speedy and Gizmo left now. They're only little them two, we wont need a shoebox for them, but they're probably too big to flush down the toilet. I'll email th...