My Dog Loves The Sea.

Actually, my dog does not like water at all. In fact he walks around puddles...which reminds me of a poem I once read about a prisoner who stepped around a puddle on the way to his execution. Oh well, at least the haircut looks even worse today. I didn't think that would be possible and the fact that it grows about three centimeters a year means I'm going to look like a real twit for about the next decade.

Chicken Chausseur

First, catch your chicken...
I hate going to the hairdresser...it's on a close par with visiting the dentist. Both occurring at roughly eight month intervals. So this week it was the turn of the hairdresser. Deep down I would like to look sophisticated, with a touch of Italian design perfect, a sploosh of French cutting edge. I emerged victorious as a Ken Dodd double. I'm starting to look like my dog.

Alice who used to be Frank has gone to Britain so we have her very, very large dog who tries to murder Arthur by sitting on him. I will be on constant watch!!

Above done in Artrage.