Random mutterings, sighing and gasping, finger jabbing, brow dabbing and general bleatings about everyday bollocks. Brought to you by Angie Annetts, author of the highly-acclaimed short story collection, 'Tales From Around The Bend'. http://www.talesfrom.co.uk/

Friday, 4 March 2011

Mr Whippy, Werther's Originals and Bullseye

Call me old fashioned…but picking up dog shit and carrying it around isn’t a good look, is it? And what’s more, the dogs don’t seem to go a bundle on it either. In fact, I’d even go as far to say they look somewhat ‘indignant’ and ‘put out’ by this turn around in modern day shitting etiquette.
I mean, time was a dog could go about its business and no one paid much notice to the squatting, frowned straining and Mister Whippy output. No, it was a good chance to spark up a fag, chat a bit of bollocks – if you were in company or, if I was back in deepest and darkest East London, it’d give me an opportunity to weigh up my chances of getting home in one piece with cash, dignity and fillings still intact. But not now. No siree. Whilst the dog’s pleading face is saying, “Just give me a bit of privacy here, buddy,” the owners eyes are zoomed in on the poor mutt’s rear end while frantically rustling around in their pockets for a shit pouch, anxious to let everyone know that they are responsible and not like some other dog owners, who ruthlessly leave their dog shit all over the gaff, willy nilly. Job done, they immediately steam in and pick up the (still steaming) turd.

Appalled by events witnessed in his forest, this distressed squirrel travels into town
in an attempt to obliterate images of doggie friends being routinely humilated.

And how they do it is beyond me. But they do, whilst the dog looks on as though he’s about to die of embarrassment and in the knowledge that all his doggie street cred has gone right out the window. And then it gets carried around until a suitable dog crap receptacle is located. Doesn’t make for a romantic walk does it? Some even shovel the shit pouch into their coat or jacket pockets, now that would put me right off my Werther’s Originals…  

This poor moo's foolishly smiling in the misguided belief that
she's being handed a bag of Pick 'n' Mix. Watch out, love!

Bizarrely, they just don’t show all this carry on in films – or soaps, come to that. I certainly don’t recall Dirty Den hoofing a bag of Wellard’s finest logs around Albert Square whilst manfully screeching, “Ere, I want a word with you!” to his latest victim. And I think it would be fair to say that Bill Sykes may not have appeared quite the invincible villain if he'd shovelled up Bullseye’s doings into a biodegradable bag before trotting off for a bit of Oom-Pah-Pah…dear oh dear… 

It's a plan, and it just might work...
Bill Sykes attempts to train Bullseye to crap into a strategically placed bowl on his bonce...

1 comment:

  1. Balfala 'ch boeni , Fi hefyd ddyhea achos 'r ddiwrnodau pryd allasom hidla rhyddha er 'n barciau crapping a yn mocha at 'n brydiau bodlona. Fi cannot canfod 'r deilyngu i mewn 'ch canine ceraint. beth amcana gân? Ddisgwyl prehaps gwasanaethedig ag Annog Chyfaill reis acha Nos Wener.

    I know how much you love the Welsh Ang :-))


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