Wednesday, 14 January 2009
Have a great day big guy, and may your every wish come true for the year ahead.
33! You've only got a few more years before middle age.
Saturday, 3 January 2009
Happy 2009 And A Special Message
Happy New Year.
I'd just like to thank the owner of the dog whose excrement I stood in this afternoon.
After watching a football match in the perishing cold there were a number of ways I could have spent the short time available to me before meeting friends this evening. But it would never have occured to me to clean my boots at punishing length - boot-cleaning being such a notoriously boring (and, when they're shit-ridden, unpleasant) activity that it has been variously used to cow Army recruits and keep football apprentices humble.
I might have thrown away half an hour reading a book or watching a sitcom episode, and that would have been an appalling waste of time in comparison to the elevating task of scraping canine turd from between the grooves on the bottom of my shoes.
It was also especially agreeable for an OCD sufferer with a slight but insistent phobia of uncleanliness to have to deal with faeces. I enjoyed the close proximity to said matter every bit as much as you might imagine (were cognition an ability available to you).
Furthermore, I would still be using a toothbrush that, while excellent, was perhaps a week past its prime.
So all in all, thanks ever so much.
Just a word of warning. It seems likely, given your utter indifference about the impact of your behaviour on human beings, that you are neglecting your poor dog. I would hate a situation to arise where the beast became deranged or even rabid as a result of your mistreatment of it, and - say - lunged at your throat and ripped out chunks of flesh, causing you to die in unprecedented agony.
Let's hope that such a scenario doesn't arise.