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I have 3 dog stories!
The first one is this dog that looked like Lassie, that my Brother's mate used to have. Stupid dog, it ran at my cat from the end of the garden, but the cat didn't even flinch because it knew one thing that the dog didn't - there was a patio door between them. Splat! I'm surprised the door didn't smash, actually - God bless British window safety standards.
Hound ye second was an equally stupid dog, that belonged to my Aunt. Thie mutt made it through the patio doors, but got tangled up in the Venitian blinds, bringing them crashing down and smothering the poor blighter. Then I think my Aunt hit it because it was so stupid, and made it work off the cost of the repair of the blinds by temping at SKB.
My last fantastic story involves one of those crappy little dogs that all Essex wideboys seem to have - y'know, those little ones that are half bulldog, half doberman, all dumb. My ultra-clever Brother brought it round - without a lead on - and surprise, surprise, it went for the cats. But one of my cats is a bit feral, so this dog got the shock of it's life when it suddenly found Pansy on it's back, shredding it to bits! I had to seperate them, but the cat chose to take on my arm instead, then hid in my parents room for a bit (the cat, not me). I bled half to death, whilst my Brother laughed like the retard he is. He's off work with a bad back, hernia and mangled foot - who's laughing now, barrel-boy!? Hahahahahahaha - that's right, me!
I'm so bored.
The first one is this dog that looked like Lassie, that my Brother's mate used to have. Stupid dog, it ran at my cat from the end of the garden, but the cat didn't even flinch because it knew one thing that the dog didn't - there was a patio door between them. Splat! I'm surprised the door didn't smash, actually - God bless British window safety standards.
Hound ye second was an equally stupid dog, that belonged to my Aunt. Thie mutt made it through the patio doors, but got tangled up in the Venitian blinds, bringing them crashing down and smothering the poor blighter. Then I think my Aunt hit it because it was so stupid, and made it work off the cost of the repair of the blinds by temping at SKB.
My last fantastic story involves one of those crappy little dogs that all Essex wideboys seem to have - y'know, those little ones that are half bulldog, half doberman, all dumb. My ultra-clever Brother brought it round - without a lead on - and surprise, surprise, it went for the cats. But one of my cats is a bit feral, so this dog got the shock of it's life when it suddenly found Pansy on it's back, shredding it to bits! I had to seperate them, but the cat chose to take on my arm instead, then hid in my parents room for a bit (the cat, not me). I bled half to death, whilst my Brother laughed like the retard he is. He's off work with a bad back, hernia and mangled foot - who's laughing now, barrel-boy!? Hahahahahahaha - that's right, me!
I'm so bored.
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I have 3 dog stories!
The first one is this dog that looked like Lassie, that my Brother's mate used to have. Stupid dog, it ran at my cat from the end of the garden, but the cat didn't even flinch because it knew one thing that the dog didn't - there was a patio door between them. Splat! I'm surprised the door didn't smash, actually - God bless British window safety standards.
Hound ye second was an equally stupid dog, that belonged to my Aunt. Thie mutt made it through the patio doors, but got tangled up in the Venitian blinds, bringing them crashing down and smothering the poor blighter. Then I think my Aunt hit it because it was so stupid, and made it work off the cost of the repair of the blinds by temping at SKB.
My last fantastic story involves one of those crappy little dogs that all Essex wideboys seem to have - y'know, those little ones that are half bulldog, half doberman, all dumb. My ultra-clever Brother brought it round - without a lead on - and surprise, surprise, it went for the cats. But one of my cats is a bit feral, so this dog got the shock of it's life when it suddenly found Pansy on it's back, shredding it to bits! I had to seperate them, but the cat chose to take on my arm instead, then hid in my parents room for a bit (the cat, not me). I bled half to death, whilst my Brother laughed like the retard he is. He's off work with a bad back, hernia and mangled foot - who's laughing now, barrel-boy!? Hahahahahahaha - that's right, me!
I'm so bored.
The first one is this dog that looked like Lassie, that my Brother's mate used to have. Stupid dog, it ran at my cat from the end of the garden, but the cat didn't even flinch because it knew one thing that the dog didn't - there was a patio door between them. Splat! I'm surprised the door didn't smash, actually - God bless British window safety standards.
Hound ye second was an equally stupid dog, that belonged to my Aunt. Thie mutt made it through the patio doors, but got tangled up in the Venitian blinds, bringing them crashing down and smothering the poor blighter. Then I think my Aunt hit it because it was so stupid, and made it work off the cost of the repair of the blinds by temping at SKB.
My last fantastic story involves one of those crappy little dogs that all Essex wideboys seem to have - y'know, those little ones that are half bulldog, half doberman, all dumb. My ultra-clever Brother brought it round - without a lead on - and surprise, surprise, it went for the cats. But one of my cats is a bit feral, so this dog got the shock of it's life when it suddenly found Pansy on it's back, shredding it to bits! I had to seperate them, but the cat chose to take on my arm instead, then hid in my parents room for a bit (the cat, not me). I bled half to death, whilst my Brother laughed like the retard he is. He's off work with a bad back, hernia and mangled foot - who's laughing now, barrel-boy!? Hahahahahahaha - that's right, me!
I'm so bored.
And to think, this time a couple of days ago I was banned...
You should be banned again, just for this.
JOKING ME OLD MUCKER, here's my hound-tail....HAHAHA.
This was years ago but I'll tell it anyway:
I was walking my old dog, and a dog behind a fence who I couldn't even see started barking, so my dog barked back. I tried to pull my dog away because I didn't want all this barking going on, but my dog was too strong, I couldn't budge him. He was hell-bent on out-barking the other dog behind the fence. After it all clamed down, I managed to pull my dog away where, on getting to my front door, one if it's teeth fell out.
I guess everything DOES happen for a reason.
JOKING ME OLD MUCKER, here's my hound-tail....HAHAHA.
This was years ago but I'll tell it anyway:
I was walking my old dog, and a dog behind a fence who I couldn't even see started barking, so my dog barked back. I tried to pull my dog away because I didn't want all this barking going on, but my dog was too strong, I couldn't budge him. He was hell-bent on out-barking the other dog behind the fence. After it all clamed down, I managed to pull my dog away where, on getting to my front door, one if it's teeth fell out.
I guess everything DOES happen for a reason.
monkey_man wrote:
> And to think, this time a couple of days ago I was banned...
You could say that, wait for it this is brilliant, you could say, ho ho, it's a classic this, you could say that you were in the doghouse.
HUr hur hur, Crutfy the clown.
I'm lonely.
> And to think, this time a couple of days ago I was banned...
You could say that, wait for it this is brilliant, you could say, ho ho, it's a classic this, you could say that you were in the doghouse.
HUr hur hur, Crutfy the clown.
I'm lonely.
Dog and cat stories rule, especially the ones where cats win.
Bah, I like gentle, kind dogs. Not the aggressive ones.
My dog is the best. Even if it lives with my Aunt.
My dog is the best. Even if it lives with my Aunt.
Saggie for Notable!
Scratch that....
Saggie for God!
Scratch that....
Saggie for God!
When I was a kid I had a hamster. I had one of the clear plastic ball things for it to run in. One day a mate brought round their new Scots terrier puppy. Said hamster chased terrified puppy around for a bit.
In saying that if I was getting chased by a plastic ball the size of me I'd be scared as well. Though for it to be a ball and the size of me, I'd need to be extremely fat.
In saying that if I was getting chased by a plastic ball the size of me I'd be scared as well. Though for it to be a ball and the size of me, I'd need to be extremely fat.
Your wording was subline, biggles.
have some weetabix.
have some weetabix.
My dog used to play cricket with us. It was great, one person would bowl the other would smack the ball miles (unless I was bowling of course) and then the mutt would leg it and retrieve the ball. The drawbacks were; he'd never drop the ball at the feet of the bowler but a couple of strides away (he was messing with our minds) and he'd endeavour to cover the ball in saliva. Oh and sometimes he'd leap and catch the ball before it reached the batsmen or make a stupendous catch at close range.
After he'd lost all his teeth we started to use a tennis ball instead of a cricket ball (nah we only used a tennis ball, I'm kind to animals and most people).
After he'd lost all his teeth we started to use a tennis ball instead of a cricket ball (nah we only used a tennis ball, I'm kind to animals and most people).
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