Hot day today, nice and sunny in Bournemouth.
Mistress out in the garden with Jessica, sat on a chair reading some nauseous Chick Lit book about some gorgeous looking female professional in need of a shag. I, being the intelligent dog of the house, go for the main chance!
Yes admittedly, lying in the sun on a lush lawn and writhing about is jolly attractive, however.....The Master has gone into the front room.
I follow him, sensing there might be a chance of grub.
Sure enough there he is lying sprawled on the settee watching some old John Wayne film feeding himself vigorously from a bag of Hula Hoops, (Beef Flavour). Oh yes! the saltiness of the beef flavouring mixed in with the slightly fatty fried potato...it truly is the crisp of choice for most canines! With the lazy bugger getting through the bag at a right old rate of knots, I have to act quickly.
I put on the faces:
1. Cute & kind of winsome.....give me a Hula Hoop
2. Slightly morose and depressed.....give me a Hula Hoop
3. Somewhat pissed off and losing my patience.....GIVE ME A HULA HOOP PLEASE!!!!
And what do I get?....some tiny bloody semi circled remain which I eat briefly and with a bitter expression. Of course he doesn't register this and carries on watching the film with all its strangely dressed men shooting each other.
The greedy git.
Only one scrap of a Hula Hoop after all my loving looks.
I stroll outside and piss on one of the flowerbeds in the garden and proceed to eat grass. A good puke on the lawn will repay him.
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