Archive for the dogs Category

Steamy Windows

Posted in dogs, Humour, life, Uncategorized with tags , , , on November 24, 2008 by norvenmunky

window

 

So, having got back from the pub, completely mullered, you know the feeling, ‘next time that bed comes past, I’m going to get on the bastard’, .. one ‘retired’ for the evening. All well and good apart from at about three o’clock in the morning the incontinence gauge had crept up to the right hand side of the dial and is now indicating ‘F’. Bleary eyed it’s oh so easy to forget that the resident house guardian, (self apponted), a seven stone female Dobermann, blessed with the intelligence of a Dalston doorman, has forgotton you’re guest for the night. It also appears to be ‘that time’ for her, and I don’t mean three o’clock in the morning. This she indicates by emitting a low growling noise, which gets louder the further the door is edged open. So Sunday morning at about half past three you’re now faced with bluffing the dog, if that doesn’t work its going to get fecking noisy at the very least as you and the dog get into a territorial discussion over the hallway leading to the bog. It’s now the very real choice of the equivalent of a knife fight in a corridor with a full bladder, or having a piss out the bedroom window. The real downside of the dogging option is obviously being caught wrestling a dog, (not for the first time …), with a piss shaped map of Africa spreading across your groin or the carpet, depending on who blinks first. You, or the dog. Discretion overcomes valour, and the window’s gently cracked open.

Now the window. Having not been opened for a while, lets out a high pitched squeal as its forced open, and dog growls having now relocated to the other side of the door, just to let you know you ain’t goin anywhere. Least of all without a bloody good scrap, and all this whilst you’re hopping madly from one foot to the other. It seems like the whole world is now in some bizzare HD slo-motion replay sequence, with the inevitable it’ll all end in tears outcome, no longer a ghostly apparition in your mind, but a very real possibility.  Having made that decision, the window, (blokes will know this), there’s no going back, ‘the operation is on’, the window is ‘it’. ENDEX .  An attempt to abort this chosen course of action will only leave a sodden trail between you and the door, quite simply, you won’t make it.

The immediate relief of the stream getting under full flow is beyond description, only the true disciples will know that sheer bliss, whilst acknowledging simultaneously that in the words of Jeffrerson Starship, ‘Nothings going to stop us now’. Of course the risk of being discovered just adds to that hightened state of euphoria, which rapidly turned to blind panic as the sound turns to that of a hose pipe on a metal dustbin some ten feet below. Feck! feck! feck!, no amount of changing angle or attempt to increase or decrease flow rate makes any difference, as it appears they either own several dustbins or a very large one. The din at that time in the morning sounds as though someone is using a kango outside the front door and at least one neighbours dog is already barking its head off  This state of terror lasts for about a minute, the terror of being found full flow, pissing out the window by either the host, or a neighbour doesn’t bare thinking about, and dealing with the dog is now seeming like it would have been the better option by far. Fortunately all goes well, no one wakes apart from two dogs, and the mission success rate is doubled about two hours later when at five the backpressure has again reached break point, this time coming much quicker as you ‘know’ there is an easy solution, open the window and hope that the acoustics of a piss ten feet or so onto a metal dustbin will go unnoticed again.

Well of course it does go unnoticed, and peace and love, you’ve got away with it. At half nine bleary eyed and sitting around the kitchin table the bar room stories are being recalled from the night before, and the room begins to get an odd but recogniseable whiff about it, You can see peoples noses beginning to twitch, the bloody dog starting the ball rolling. Its not long before the whole room is full of the stench of a wino’s underpants as the air con unit attached to the outside of the house kicks into full Auto …

That Smell v.2.0

Posted in cats, dogs, Humour, life, pets, Uncategorized with tags , , , , on October 13, 2008 by norvenmunky

Inflatable dog poo sculpture wreaks havoc

A Puppy ( a fecking big one I grant you), Yesterday

A Puppy, ( a fecking big one I grant you), Yesterday

Earlier this year a modern art exhibit wreaked havoc after blowing away from a museum in the Swiss city of Berne.The exhibit in question, titled “Complex Sh*t”, was an inflatable dog turd the size of a house.

The exhibit, a sculpture by American artist Paul McCarthy, was blown loose from its moorings at the Paul Klee centre. An inopportune gust of wind then carried it 200 yards. A sort of ‘following through’ moment then… The giant inflatable stool brought down an electricity line and smashed a greenhouse window before eventually coming to rest in the grounds of a children’s home, after becoming en-snared in a full washing line…

Representatives of the museum later revealed that McCarthy’s work of art had a safety system that would automatically deflate the inflatable turd in the event of a storm but admitted the device had failed to activate. No doubt Bergies colleagues had a similar excuse stored in case they were ever reunited with ‘les enfants du piscine’

Well today some people we know got a new puppee, ah, bless, etc. Well they’ll have all the entertainment of ‘house training’ it.
Always struck me as an odd term that did, ‘house training’, shades of BBC2 and Babs Woodhouse shouting ‘Bungalow’, at some poor demented mutt. Or her yelling ‘1930’s Semi’ and being pleasantly surprised to see a lard arsed golden retriever, wiping its ring piece across the carpet whilst paddling toward her with the lippy out.

It reminds me of a training story and jolly jape played on a new kitty owner, by a known ‘perp’.
New kitty was the owners pride and joy, and I’ve heard tell it was a cute little thing. Well the training started in earnest, and soon Tiddles was using the last scrap of paper, and moving onto the litter tray. Occaisonally there was the crunch of gravel underfoot in the kitchen, lets face it though, it could have been worse, and softer.

Well being a house frequented by assorted piss taking bastards, a cunning plan was hatched. Tiddles ate well and had a very healthy appetite, but to the increasing concern of the owner, had irregular bowel habits. Sometimes as much as two or three days would pass before there was a ‘result’ in the tray. Books were consulted, and other owners, no interweb then, and the concensus was that something was amiss and a vetinary appointment should be booked. (For the cat). Well off went Tiddles to the vets and no doubt had a happy thirty minutes or so playing ‘glove puppets’ with the staff, and returned home, probably in a filthy mood. Lots of cuddles, treats and sympathy for the poor mite. Well four days passed before another movement, and as predicted on the Friday afternoon the responsible owner rang for a vet appointment for the Saturday, which was duly booked. Now Tiddles in fact was a good kitty, very regular, but shift times in the household had allowed the early shift to on occaision remove Tiddles efforts and spirit them away, to be replaced with new kitty litter prior to the owner rising from their slumber. Hence the irregular movement pattern.

Now Friday night being a night out for all on the lash, went ahead as usual. Late night revelers on turning in, said ‘night-night’ to Tiddles and wandered off to bed. The morning shift went out the door as usual for the ‘oh ffs its early’ start. However on departing, Tiddles handiwork was removed, as usual, and after 15 pints or so the previous evening, replaced with a morning glory specimen that Berg’s Dartmouth naval gazers would have been proud of. All it really needed was a walnut on top to finish it off.

Well the house was awoken by some very (still monumentally pissed), loud swearing and cries of disbelief from Tiddles owner an hour or so later, when the young feline was drunkenly being associated with a ‘richard’ at least the size of a good M&S Yuletide log.
Then the smell hit home, and then, it hit the fan. Big time.

Have you met Miss Jones?

Posted in cats, dogs, environment, Humour, life, pets, recycling, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on October 11, 2008 by norvenmunky

Apparently the RSPCA has complained about North Nottinghamshire County Councils ‘Cruel’ recycling policy. Dog bins have been appearing next to normal litter bins and the council make regular trips to clear the bins of unwanted dogs.

When asked about the recycling, Miss Jones, a spokesperson, (perish the thought we find out she’s female), for NCC said we just collect them, ‘We don’t actually recycle them ourselves, thats outsourced to an approved outside contractor’. Regarding the size of the problem Miss Jones replied, ‘The number of unwanted dogs is on the increase and especially on the run up to christmas we expect the problem to get worse, unfortunately people discard their current dogs, in anticipation of receiving a newer version as a gift, its a product of our throw away society. We’ve provided these easy to use recycling points where people can dispose of their old dogs responsibly. They are compacted and recycled with household compost waist and then bagged. We sell the compost with all the profits going to The Cats Protection League.’

When asked if it were humane, the source said its a ‘Kennel to Grave’ approach to BS7750 environmental management standard. When further pressed on the matter she admitted somewhat bad temperedly that lethal injections were not provided, as it duplicated a process already covered by compacting and shredding, and they weren’t made of money due to cost cuts.

Icelands Bubble About To Burst

Icelands Bubble About To Burst

The councils costs problem has recently been exacerbated by Icelands Kerry Katona being reported missing with a large chunk of NCC’s cash, allegedly to buy more dogs.

Take it to the limit

Posted in dogs, ebay, Humour, internet shopping, life, pets, photography, shoes, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on September 17, 2008 by norvenmunky

Ebay’s a fascinating place, with lots of ‘stuff’ on offer. A good friend of mine advised several of us that he had found Faux leather dog boots for sale. He’s still not put his hand up to what he was actually looking for when he stumbled across this little gem, but we’ll let that pass.

So with the natural inability of the usual ebayer to write sentences or use fings like gramma the undoubted target market is to attract the urbane urbanites, shaved head, mouth breather, vacant look, IQ of around 55. Parents no prettier. You’ve seen them.

Apparently then, if you have a dog, you need:
Description:
Durable and breathable Small Protective Pet Dog Boots Leather Booties Shoes
Your pet will be the hottest dog on the street when she steps out in these cool, stylish Protective Dog Boots.

It is of course reassuring to know that these are destined for bitches, it seems somehow ‘right’. None of your ‘gangsta’ bling Ridgebacks will be wearing these this season …

With Velcro straps, making the Dog Boots very easy to put on.
The Velcro assisting with holding Fifi down whilst the fake leather is wrestled on the end of her little pins.
Fashion Dog Boots Shoes to make sure your pooch looks smart and cute,
Hmm… see ‘fun’ photo shoot later, if you ‘re not worried by now, you bloody well should be.

With deluxe anti-slip rubber sole,
So, dogs, and anti-slip rubber specified, even the Welsh sheep are beginning to look uneasy, glancing in each others ears, almost as if they hold some gungy, black, waxy muck to be responsible for the flow of obscene possibilities that’s beginning to reach their brains.

For ‘fun’ Photo-shoot sessions. Sure to bring you lots of fun and laughters.
Material: Faux leather
Package set of 4

You just want to steer well clear of anyone offering to show you pictures of their ‘fun photo shoot’ bitch sessions. Next thing you know they’ll be offering to re-paint your garage door by the River Mimram, with some naked bint and a pack of four! Despite the entreprenurial nature of the offer and discounts galore for bulk orders, they’ve missed a trick to supply three packs for all those run over rescue home mutts.

One is also advised to
Please measure your dog’s paws before ordering.
The last thing you want is the wrong size turning up, conversely of course that exactly what the bleedin dog is hoping for.
How to measure
1. Place a paper underneath the front paws (the front paws are usually bigger than the back paws so it will be fine doing just that).

And just in case you’re still not sure, the front ones are down a bit from the hole with the sharp pointy white bits in it, that smells like a dogs bum, and the back ones are underneath that neat strawberry coloured starfish with a brush next to it, that smells like a dogs bum.

2. Outline the paw with a pen (including nails).
From this instruction you rather get the idea that fido has got a bit fecked off with the procedure, if by this time you are having to nail the bloody dog to the floor to draw round its feet.

Have to admit I’m still intrigued as to whether he was looking for a fake leather dog though …