My neighbour Joan popped in for a coffee. One look at BUNNEE my beautiful Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and she said, “You know I do believe Bunnee’s put on weight!” I replied, “It can’t be so. I’m very strict with her diet, which I might add consists mainly of cuddles!” Joan replied, “Ah, well there’s your problem…cuddles have calories!” Bunnee looked at me and I looked at Bunnee. We must have had the same thought, for Buns jumped off my lap, showed Joan the door and then returned to the lounge for an extra cuddle!
Folks, I’m sick and tired of having my favourite TV programmes interrupted every 6 to 9 minutes by advertising slots that can last for up to 5 minutes! I’m beginning to think the programmes are slotted around the adverts! Really, I’m phobic about it! To solve this really annoying problem I recently bought a HUMAX digital recorder. This way I can program the machine to record everything I like, and I watch it later. Below are just some of the adverts that really get on my tits!
“Have you got hard dry skin on your feet? Well now there is an answer…F**KING AMPUTATION! NOMOREFEET.COM are opening up in a town near you!”
“Do you have unsightly facial hair? Well now there is an answer…F**KING DECAPITATION! HEADSYOULOSE.COM (affiliates of nomorefeet.com). This mega solution also helps with WEIGHT LOSS!”
“Do you need car insurance from a company that GUARANTEES NEVER to pay your claim? Then come to F**KTHEPUBLIC.COM”
“Take the STRESS out of moving homes…come to FRACKINGCOUNTYPROPERTIES.COM. We guarantee to find you what you’re not looking for! Complimentary hard hats are provided for every new customer!”
“Have you tried new ‘SPECIAL Q’ high fibre breakfast cereal? Low in fat, salt and calories…SPECIAL Q guarantees to give you wind all day long!”
“Are you sick and tired of going through reams and reams of expensive TOILET PAPER, particularly on CURRY NIGHT? Then try new STUCKO medicated toilet tissue. STUCKO won’t tear, nor for that matter, flush. STUCKO toilet tissue, THE STANDARD FOR YOUR BEHIND!”
Yes, of course my ads are quite ridiculous, but no more so than the ones we are forced to watch. The amount of money a company is willing to go through in order to sell its product is mind-boggling. Plus there’s the cost of celebrity endorsement! “Because you’re worth it!” Oh do F**K OFF! Half the so-called celebs can barely read & write! Furthermore, only an idiot would buy a product where the salesperson is a GLOVE PUPPET! Wait a minute…actually I think I may have. Oh dear!
Figures released today indicate that the average house price in London will shortly rise to £300,000, but first time buyers need not despair. There is light at the end of the tunnel! The Housing Minister, together with the President of The British Confederation of House Builders are locked in secret talks with the Jorgen Vig Knudsstorp, the CEO of the LEGO Corporation. The purpose of the meeting? To provide self-assembly, cheap housing for first time buyers and the poor. Lego heat-resistant bricks, twenty times bigger than a standard house brick will become available in a variety of colours, and, due to their simple construction, new LEGO homes will be more earthquake resistant than either brick-built or timber-framed houses. The proposed ‘snap together’ homes require no architect plans, no local authority planning permissions, and most importantly, no specialist tools. Effectively you will be able to build yourself a home in any shape whatsoever, and in any colour or colours. Over the following years, when your children have left to go to university, you may wish to dismantle your two-storey house and re-erect it as a bungalow.
The first experimental LEGO estate is expected to be erected in Essex at the beginning of 2015. So when the postman knocks at your door with a mis-addressed parcel, you can tell him that, “Miss Amelia Gibbins lives in the blue, green, red and yellow bungalow at the end of the street. You can’t miss it, its right between the three-storey cruise liner and the Boeing 787 Dreamliner.”
I’ve been a dog lover all my life. I cannot express the JOY I get from caring for my canine friend. I’ve had dachshunds, (4) Boxers (2) and Cavaliers (2). My current doggy friend is Bunnee, the four-year-old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel bitch. She is an absolute delight! I talk to her, play with her, walk her and cuddle her whenever she requires my attention, but I draw the line at feeding Bunnee at the table, or dressing her as you might dress a child. That indulgence is revolting. If you want to dress a dog as a child, then have a child! People don’t know when to draw the line. If you dye your dog’s coat bright orange or paint its toenails, you should be on a psychiatrist’s couch!
My beloved CHARLIE the Cavalier King Charles spaniel died December 2012. My canine friend enjoyed fourteen and a half wonderful years of life. Thankfully his demise was very swift, but it didn’t stop me crying for a week. Despite the fact that Charlie remained flea free and was regularly groomed, six days after he passed my house become infested with the CAT FLEAS. I was bitten over one hundred times, in bed and out. I’d looked after dogs all my life and never had I been bitten more than once. This was truly a nightmare! I sprayed the furniture several times, the mattresses and bed frames too. Every duvet was taken to the cleaners, every sheet and pillow case washed. I repeatedly sprayed the carpets and even as a last resort, hired a specialist who bombed the place. All in all I spent over £600, and it took several weeks to clear the house of fleas. I must have spent £100 alone on anti-flea body sprays and creams. Despite the fact that Charlie was not to blame I took the infestation as an omen and swore I’d never have another dog, Six weeks later I took charge of right little bitch BUNNEE the Cavalier. She is fantastic and flea free. Some people are of the belief that fleas living on a dog jump ship when they know the animal is about to die. Even if Charlie had the odd flea living on him, how could they have jumped ship and multiplied to the extent that they did? No, no, I believe that someone who came to my house to express his/her condolences brought cat fleas with them. Anyway, it’s a mystery that will never be solved. I know to in future ‘bomb’ the house throughout straight away.
Clear & present danger!!
I’ve just found out…fleas are about! It has something to do with the mild climate here in London? Anyway, I cannot go through another infestation. Someone told me if I swallow one garlic capsule a day, fleas will dare not bite me. Apparently fleas don’t like the taste of garlic-infused blood, but how will they know until they bite? I suppose the first flea that does bite me will go home and email all his f**king flea friends. I guess that’s the beauty of social networking sites!
My girlfriend bought me a bottle of aftershave as a ‘thank you’ for looking after Denby, her Bedlington Terrier while she was on a business trip to Thailand. Denise knew I only wore Polo for Men by Ralph Lauren, and that’s exactly what she thought she bought me. I turned out to be POLIO by Ralph Loren! A gentleman to the bitter end, I thanked Denise for the gift and waited until she’d left my abode before using the bottle of aftershave to disinfect my kitchen floor. Unfortunately the aftershave burnt a hole through the lino. Well, better it than me!
Faced with rising land costs, developers are offering buyers of new homes a paltry 495 square feet of living space…hardly room enough to swing a cat! (Not that I would condone such an action). A spokesperson for The Royal Institute of Architects has voiced concerns over one’s mental well-being together with the risk of increased marital problems when sharing such a small space. I don’t know what all the fuss is about. I recently inherited two beach huts in Brighton. I’ve rented them out to six families (38) individuals, seven dogs, three cats and an anaconda. I don’t hear a whisper out of them! I know what you’re thinking…its only a matter of time until someone proposes me for The Citizenship of the Year Award. You’re not wrong!
I decided to go to work yesterday. ‘Management’ expressed their gratitude, although not with flowers or chocolates! I drove the 183 from Golders Green Station in north-west London toward Pinner, Middlesex. Having pulled away from Kingsbury tube station, the road narrowed. A black VW Polo hit the side of the bus as the driver tried to sneak through to the round-a-bout. I indicated that we should both cross Kingsbury round-a-bout and stop to exchange details on the other side. This we did.
A young Asian lady got out of the VW leaving an elderly gentleman in the passenger seat. So, resting on the car’s bonnet, I attempted to complete an accident report form.
Question 4, ‘Are any of the occupants injured,’ I asked.
The young lady replied, ‘Yes, we’re both Indian.’ I looked up at her and guffawed.
‘No,’ I said, ‘not Indian…injured!’ They were not, but the young lady was by now clearly embarrassed, as I would have been. Oh honestly, like that fact that she was Indian would have affected the insurance claim. Back in the bus, I chuckled the rest of the way to Pinner.
Farmer Fred Johnson, 69, became an overnight millionaire after a valuable haul of 7th century Saxon gold…known as the Staffordshire Hoard…was unearthed on his farm in 2009 using a metal detector. Mr Johnson recently revealed he sold two acres of his land under a compulsory purchase order ahead of the motorway’s 2003 opening. It now transpires that soil from the fields which contained the £3.3 million treasure trove had been shovelled onto the site of the M6 toll road before the amazing discovery. Why only last year 90 new pieces of gold and silver from the hoard were found!
My advice to anyone regularly using the M6 toll road, would be to keep a beady eye out for mad-made pot holes! And for anyone out there wishing to capitalise on this new information, well, don’t leave home without a shovel. You never know, this time next year you too could be a millionaire! KERCHING!
WARNING…this blog will be of interest to doggy lovers, so if you’re not in fact a doggy lover, please move on…nothing to see here!
I left my house this morning in order to walk down the road to the high street to buy a paper and a packet of cigarettes. Passing a bus stop, a young man in his twenties exited a bus holding a beautiful, black Dachshund (standard) in a knitted sweater and a harness. I was tempted to say ‘what a lovely doggy’, but instead I walked on. Reaching the edge of the road I heard ‘STOP’ coming from behind me. Turning around I spotted the Dachshund running towards me off its lead. It had slipped the harness too. I held up my palm and shouted ‘ACHTUNG DOGGY!’ Would you believe the doggy obeyed, stopped by my feet and jumped up at me. The young man caught up and thanked me. Paul came from Holland. In Holland they speak German as a second or third language, so I can only presume six-month-old ‘Ben’ the Dachshund spoke it too! What a beautiful doggy. He reminded me of the four Dachshunds I had as a child. It’s a pity I don’t get the same reaction from people!
Does he buy a Rolls Royce only to have it gold-plated? Does he buy a 350 foot super yacht only to build a bowling alley in it? Does he buy a Picasso only to hang it in the galley in order to throw spaghetti at it? If it sticks, its al dente! Does he have eight wives, one for every day of the week? The definition of someone who is filthy rich is someone who has prescription glass installed in the windows of his mansion and in the windscreen of his Rolls. However, should Richy Rich lose all of his money, well, potential buyers for his mansion and Rolls will be limited in numbers…limited to those who use the same prescription!
Apparently there are several million potentially dangerous assholes dotted around the country. Some congregate at the sides of the roads, impeding cyclists, while others blatantly hang around in the middle of the roads, waiting for motorists to drive over them, damaging their suspension. Police and the Highways Agency are warning road users to remain vigilant! It is said it will take up to 10 years to fill in all the assholes. Tar very much!
Twenty-five-year-old Ericka Marie Danna, who was arrested in Oklahoma City for causing a domestic disturbance, was caught trying to smuggle a marijuana pipe into the County jail inside her vagina. Having been charged with disturbing the peace and attempting to bring contraband into the jail, Ms Danna replied, ‘I am part Cherokee Indian, and what you call a marijuana pipe I call a pipe of peace!’ An officer of the law was heard to reply, ‘And you can stick that where the sun don’t shine. Oh, you already have!’
My new drinking buddy Stanley couldn’t stop boasting about his new red Lamborghini. “It’s a Nitro VRT,” he said. “The engine is a four-cylinder Deutz Tier 4i, and its got a continuous variable transmission.” Not that into sports cars, I wasn’t that interested. “And what a hydraulic system! The Nitro’s got a Duel 60 eco pump. Can you believe that? It also comes with an electronically controlled rear lift and integral hydrostatic braking with oil bath disc brakes!” Finally the penny dropped. I remembered that Lamborghini made tractors too! “Here’s mud in your eye,” Stanley said, raising his pint glass.
The ex-wife of Austrian gun maker Gaston Glock has lost a battle to claim a share of her husband’s company, Austria’s highest court has ruled. Helga Glock had launched various legal actions demanding that a 15% share in the company Glock GmbH that she had transferred over to the Glock Privatstiftung, a private family trust, be returned. The verdict is the latest instance in a bitter feud between 84-year-old Gaston Glock…the Austrian inventor of the handgun used by two-thirds of U.S. police departments. See, some disputes can still be settled in court without the need to put a gun to anyone head!