Friday, September 17, 2010

The Dog Did WHAT In the Night??????

For the last 3 years I've had a rough collie called Brandy. Lovely thing, real bouncy, full of beans, pure-bred and all. The only problem was that Brandy was sterile...infertile... BARREN!!!! So needless to say, when the dog next door humped the arse off it every now and then, although we did chase it away, we never gave it a second thought, other than, you're a ginger dog, she's not, it'd never work out...


Two nights ago, Brandy gave birth to 6 puppies.


>WAIT??
>WHAT??
>DIDN'T YOU JUST SAY SHE WAS BARREN???



Yes, yes I did, but either we have an immaculate conception on our hands, or we were mistaken in our assumption....I would think that's the correct answer since we never actually got her checked out.....


Now, as we were not aware that the dog was, in fact, preggers, when she started makin a bit of a ruaille buaille in the middle of the night, we assumed it was to do with neighbouring dogs, the scent of a fox in the wind, something else, and it wasn't until the morning, when  the father went out to feed her that he noticed the pups runnin round...and it wasn't until about 8 hours later when my brother, having returned home from school, said he'd go check on the pups, that I even heard they existed!! And it took about 10minutes before I believed it..


Now, unfortunately, as is wont to happen in a dog's first litter, the majority of the pups did not make it through the first day. We now have 2 left and they seem strong enough little things,  so hopefully they'll survive. The brother named one Cat, much to the disapproval of my mother who says it'll be confused....yes..because it knows its a dog and not a cat....


>sorry there boss, don't mean to disturb you there but, you called me Cat....
-yeh?
>eh, well..it's just...it's just that I'm a dog......


I named the other Woofles. Coz it's a cute name. and it means nothing.....


The moral of the story is, never believe your dog when it tells you there's no way it can pregnant so it should be free to shag whatever dog it wants! Don't believe it when it says that if the boy dog is chased away half way through that it can't get knocked up. And most of all, don't have 2-way conversations with your dog, unless you're Dr. Doolittle or something...that shit can get you thrown in the funny farm....

Friday, September 3, 2010

2 more reasons to worry bout the sanity of my family.. a kilt, a sword, some hunters and a duck??!!

Reason the 1st.
One brother, one kilt: A thank you letter.

The Kilt......

Dear older brother,

Thank you for the visit home this weekend, straight off the plane from your holiday to Edinburgh in Scotland!! Thank you for the enthusiasm with which you showed off your lovely new kilt to us all, in your excitement over your purchase. Also, for explaining to us the advantages of a kilt over trousers when, as you so eloquently put it
ya havta go for a dump
I'm sure it is an awful lot easier and time-saving when all you have to do is pull your kilt up...
The enthusiasm with which you described your trip- the theft of your friends trousers by an-apparently-not-very-ex-criminal, the failure to get the ride from your American interest because of her annoying friend, the, admittedly disturbing, excitement with which you described your trip to the armoury and the hat store, was refreshing to hear and we're all very happy that you enjoyed your trip and that you chose to come home and visit.
On saying that, no, thank you but I'm not interested in whether you are wearing your kilt the 'proper Scottish way' or not, and your random act of flashing your bare arse at me every so often is achieving your intended goal of making me more than a little unwell. Please stop, I'm glad you're comfortable with your body but I don't want to see it.

Also, good call on the whole, not buying a proper sword from the armoury decision. You're right, you most likely would not have gotten through customs or security.

Yours, etc,
Twinkie...

Reason the 2nd

one father, one duck, one big frickin shock for a hunter....
 
Prologue
At the bottom of our land there is a game sanctuary.... I never know why it's called a sanctuary when the purpose of it is to rear birds to shoot them..hardly a place I'd describe as a sanctuary... now, don't worry, we don't own it, it's on the neighbouring land like, but they gotta use our lane to reach it... Anyway, there are 2 lakes in this sanctuary, and when the hunters shoot, the ducks scatter from one and fly to the other and the hunters get them while they're in flight...I don't like it either.. My Da loves to laugh about the hunters and what a ridiculously easy set-up it is to just take pot shots at the ducks as they all fly the same direction...so...
The Practical Joke...
I came downstairs on Wednesday to find my Dad and his twin brother who was over visiting sniggering away at something. When I came in, my Da looked up with a smirk and said,

Did you hear the shooting?

I did...

Well, go outside the front gate, there's a silver car parked there belonging to one of the hunters, look inside at the drivers side....

Then he and the twin dissolved back into giggles.
So I went outside, and I looked in the window of the car, and there, lying on the dashboard, with its head poking through the steering wheel so it was hanging down was a dead duck. Best of all was the 'I surrender' sign that had been propped up on its back....
Apparently one duck managed to make it up the lane before it died, no doubt it almost killed the hunter with shock too when he saw it......

....and people wonder why I'm weird....??!!!