Fuckin hot isn't it? I've got a fuckin fur coat to wear in this bastard weather as well. Sweating like a fuckin glassblower's arse I am. Stayed up into the cool late of night with me Dad to watch that England vs Japan Wimmin's World Cup Semi Final yesterday. What a fucking disappointment that was. Not one of the England players looked like a proper lesbian or nothing. They all looked so, erm, normal. Not like the ladies in the movies, high heels, suzzies, loads of lippy, lots of make up on. They have a great old time in the showers that lot. The running around before hand bit is just a "preamble" to when the real fun starts later. But this England lot actually looked like they were enjoying the football for Christ's sake. The Japs were a different kettle of fish altogether. They did look like proper full on Tenko Cell Block H lezzers, every single on of them. I'm sure at least one or two of them had a cock. I mean why were they protecting their "s...

Went for a walk with me Mum and Dad (and fucking Tommy) the other day. We went on this canal walk that we'd never done before, so we stopped to have a look at this map that was up on a board showing where the different footpaths were and what to look out for and stuff. In the top right hand corner of the map was fucking big arrow saying "You are here" and when I looked around, that fucking was where we were! How do they do that? Big fucking brother of what? They're watching us like fucking hawks everywhere we fucking go. Then we stopped at a shop on the way back called "Sainsbury's Local" it was, and do you know what, it was at least 10 miles from our house! The cheeky twats. That's not fucking local in my book, that's a bastard long way from being local. They should get the fucking trade's descriptions people onto them fuckers. Woof. PS Tommy is still doing my fucking swede in, thanks for asking. The thick twat keeps banging his head on the ...

What do you get if you cross his resignation with a Beatles song? While my Qatar gently weeps! He's going to use his time to work on his tennis game. His forehand needs some work, although his back-handers are already said to be fucking awesome. Woof.

Has died suddenly at home, aged just 55. His family say he was a fine man, an excellent politician and a loving father. Not much of an electrician though was he?!?! Woof.

What an annoying bastard. Keeps following me around, sniffing my arse. At least he hasn't tried to hump me since Tuesday. Thick as shit as well. Me Dad takes us outside, says "wee" and we do a wee and we get a bickie. Simple as. Not exactly rocket science that is it? It is for Tommy though, who just looks up at me Dad like he's speaking a foreign language or something! Does fuck all but still expects a bickie, the wanker. Well, I haven't actually caught him doing that yet, but it's only a matter of time I reckon. Talking of rocket science, we watched that Stephen Hawking film the other night, pretty good it was, even if I couldn't understand a fucking word he was saying. So I made up a little poem, here it is: There once was a man called Hawking Who got rather fed up of walking So he sat on a scooter Attached to a computer And now he lets it do the talking What do you reckon? I bet Tommy couldn't make stuff like that up. He hasn't even got ...

Well, the dirty bastards have really gone and topped the fucking lot this time. What am I on about? Fucking Tommy that's what. We take a nice little ride out into the country on the Bank Holiday Monday. Ace, nice walk down by the river, game of stick, bit of shit rolling, what could possibly go wrong I think (mistakenly). No siree, we are going to some fucking Rescue place or something they call it. Here we meet Tommy, who they say is a 2 year old Border Lakeland Terrier cross. Not only do we have the pleasure of meeting Tommy, we bring the fucking twat home with us. I couldn't fucking believe it. Two? More like two fucking months if you ask me, the brainless twat. Tommy then proceeds to rip all me fucking toys apart. My fucking toys. They're my toys for me to fucking rip apart. The knob-end. Talking of which, he keeps trying to fucking hump me as well. There I am, lying by the fire having a nice little pre-bedtime nap, and the next thing this fucking beast is all over me l...

Did you hear about that Silicon Valley big shot, and hubby of TwoFacedbook exec Sheryl Sandberg, aged 47 who died over the weekend? I always thought that Silicon Valley was the chasm between Katie Price's tits, but apparently it's not. Anyway, they are saying this morning that he died in a freak accident at the gym. I just hope that she doesn't forget to cancel his monthly membership fee. And I see that they've named the baby Charlotte Elizabeth Diana. I was hoping for Elizabeth Paris Mercedes - an nice mix of the old and the modern and also the answer to the potential future question in Cluedo, "what happened to granny?" Woof!