Saturday, 21 June 2008

Guest Post: Pig goes on holiday.

Me, Pigdog.

Ma is typing for me, Pig here!

We had a big adventure. Ma & Pa (well, Pa) filled the car up with stuff. I was a bit worried but they put in my food so I didn't worry too much. (It turns out they brought all my toys too, and my bed.

We drove for ever and came to the end of the world. On the way down we met Electro-Kevin who I LOVE and I HAD TO LICK HIS FACE. Ma says I'm her alter ego.

Here is a picture of me eating the bone E-K gave me. I LOVE E-K!

At the end of the world there were lots of rabbit smells and a big field full of canvas and nylon kennels with people and dogs and babies and sausages in them. Here I am helping Pa fix the tent.

Across a rabbit field and down the cliff at the very edge of the world there was a huge sandpit and salty water that chased me, then ran away.

There were naked people on this sand pit and I joined in when I saw people standing in a row throwing balls onto the sand towards a smaller ball. They shouted at me. So I went and dug next to a naked man lying on the sand. Big Fun! Ma and Pa weren't naked. There were three big collie dogs and I wore them all out running round and round through the water and accross the sand. I got quite tired.

We all slept in the big kennel. Every day we went for lots of walks and I was allowed to do a prewash, which doesn't happen at home.

This is Bracket. He was great fun. We went mad together.

Pa also gave me sausages. This is what the beef stew looked like before the bastards ate it.

Sometimes I sneaked into Pa and Ma's basket. I took Kev's bone with me.

Here are some curious things we saw

A white fox glove:

What is this? Pa wouldn't let me eat it.

Pa didn't want me to knock this over.

A foxglove growing in a tree
A lake in a garden we went to. Ma wouldn't throw sticks for me.
What's this?
Strange tree.
I think they slipped something in my kibble.


Anonymous said...

Aaaah... a fine tent, the open air, a bottle of Laphroig, a jug of still water (just a drop) and a glass. What more could a man want.

Anonymous said...

What more could a dog want from the world - thats wahat I want to know? If only life could always be so simple....

Philipa said...

Glad you had a good time, looks like great fun was had by all :-)

Anonymous said...

Master Pig, may I just compliment you on your command of the language - better than that young foreign plumber fellow we hear from occasionally.

Trubes said...

Piglet Darhling:
I sooh.... enjoyed your holiday yarns, what jolly japes you had.
I don't holiday with my parents because;
A) I don't travel well,
B) They are too selfish to take me somewhere I would like, such as a fish farm,
C)I am expected to look after the house along with elder sister and her smelly Pug Pup called Rocco,
I call him Pongo.
He's got huge bulging blue eyes and a creased black face, looks like a bloody miniature space hopper.
Everybody adores him 'cept me. You'd probably like him, though. He loves other dawgies and likes playing football.
Silly fool sometimes wears a red polo sweater with a matching sarf.
He's recently had a minor procedure to stop him from doing unspeakable thing to his doggie bed, blankets, cushions and any passing leg!
Must say I did feeel sorry for him.
He doesn't pong so much now.

Good to talk to you Pig. I don't normally communicate with dogs but as my Mama seems so fond of you, I shall make an exception.

From your new Pussy Pen Pal,

Princess Chloe......The Liverpool Capital of Culture Cat 2008...

P.S. Mama sends her love to you all too .xxxx

lilith said...

Just the job Fleet :-)

Just so, Mutley. Pig thought we were on a permanent walk.

It was sunny every day bar one Pip. In fact Elby and I had to glue our faces back on due to sun and wind in the first few days. After that I wore a burka.

GG. Pig is most articulate :-)
I think he fancies this bitch...

Trubes. I know someone who took her cat camping. They had a sinking feeling when the cat discovered, in the rain, that it could run all over the inner tent between the two layers...all they could see were her claws penetrating the nylon...the more they tried to remove her the more fun the cat had.

Anonymous said...

Chloe, I eat cats.

lilith said...

That's nonsense, Pig!

Barnsley Bill said...

Lilith, if i did not know better i would say those pics were taken dwn here. The palm looked tropical and that tree looks like a puriri.
if they were taken up there they have made me very home sick. I miss camping without mozzies.

lilith said...

You are spont on BB. Tree Ferns thrive down there, the very South West. We buy plants hopefully when we holiday down there but we are lucky if they last a winter up here in Somerset.

There are a lot of NZ native trees and flowers in the many gardens that were planted by wealthy quakers over a hundred years ago.

Anonymous said...

Lilith: Pig has excellent taste, and if that whirling dervish makes it in showbiz, she will be able to keep him in the style to which I would like to become accustomed!

Am I the only one who thinks that fellow on the end looks like David Cameron?

drevetailimin said...

Mr Beserk waters his Whiskey?
Lilith, the man is probably a homosexual, The Beast says get out now (+;
Lovely photos,
Check out Eves site
Ai yah she bungee jumped, am so proud of her.

lilith said...

Your gaydar buzzing B of C? Talking of raving homosexuals Elby and I met Tuscan Tony and the lovely, long-suffering Tuscana this afternoon. Seems mean of him to leave The Hitch back in Tuscany slaving away whilst he swans around car boot sales in Somerset....Elby bought him a book: A History of Essex. I could see he was touched.

lilith said...

She bungee jumped Beast? Blimey. That means she's not scared of ANYTHING. I hope you don't expect to be *in charge* in this relationship...

lilith said...

I think she will GG...she's going to be a star :-) Piers Morgan and David Cameron? They both have oddly smooth shiny faces but I think it ends there. For me the uncanny likeness is Victor Yuschenko and David Davis.

Sen. C.R.O'Blene said...

That boy Pig writes a good diary doesn't he Lils!

Assuming it was Cornshire you all visited, did you get to the Eden Project? It's on our wish list for always...

Taking dogs on hols is a brand new experience for us - we've never done it before; you seem to have it all organised. I especially liked his 'Ratty' (Knotted-rope- pulling-sod-thing), as JRT gets through one of these every month. It also keaves great shreds of lint all over The Turets and Mrs S moans on a regualr basis at clearing it all up...

Glad you had good hols too!

Electro-Kevin said...

That dog's a handsome little fella and cute to boot.

Thanks for my CDs - it must have taken an incredible amount of time to put together and I listen to them every day on my way to work.

I did a post on our meet while you were all away - look through my archives.



Elby the Beserk said...

Mr. Beast, as all real men know, real men put water in their whisky, to extract the full taste. You will, I am sure, find this too as you move into maturity.

lilith said...

Pig loves his "Ratty", Scrobs. And yes, the lint gets everywhere, including Pig's digestive system.

I am slightly crowd averse when it comes to visiting gardens Scrobs, so I have not yet made it to the Eden Project. The guy who runs it these days kinda turns my stomach. I would recommend you get further south and see some truly incredible gardens, which you can have to yourselves.

drevetailimin said...

Mr Elby
Its a sacrilidgeous act,like peeing into a fine wine
I have an anecdote about that, however will keep it to myself (+:
I have a scar to back up the story

Electro-Kevin said...

My uncle (a WWII Grenadier Guardsman) got his cock stuck in a beer can on a pilgrimage to the cemetaries in Normandy. Had to go to hospital to have it extracted and cured of tin rash.

Elby the Beserk said...

Mr. Beast,

Now you mention it, I had heard that amongst the lower orders there are curious sects who proclaim their manliness by NOT watering their whisky.

My older brother a man of wealth and taste is a member of the Malt Whisky club. Some of the whiskeys he has from them you could clean a car engine with un-watered. Quite good for stripping the throat after a bad hight out, otherwise to be ingested watered only.

I rest my case ;+}

lilith said...

That's just great. The Beast of Clerkenwell shows restraint and E-K just wades on in there with the tasteful anecdote. x

drevetailimin said...

I was performing an act of oral love upon my beloved, this involved watersports and champagne, I knelt on a champagne flute and ended up in casualty(not the TV series)
I have many stories like theseand will be delighted to share them with your daughter(+:

Mr Beserk,each to his own, you probably put milk in your Earl Grey

Elby the Beserk said...

Earl Grey. Good Lord. My mother told me that one way to know a homosexualist was that they drink Earl Grey.

No, I was bought up on Typhoo (loose leaf), Robbies Mild, Gin & French & Laphroiag. Hence my enormous stature and perfect body.

Are you really a Northerner? I'm not sure I have EVER met a Northerner who drinks Earl Grey. You do know it is not in fact tea?

lilith said...

I dunno Beast, what with nail glue in your crack and glass in your knee I could see why you would need a stunt woman for a girlfriend. What's wrong with cotton sheets and feather pillows? Much, much safer.

And, much to Elby's horror, I drink Earl Grey with Goat's Milk in. But I have the excuse of being a Colonial and not knowing the form.

Anonymous said...

My dad is a wealthy plumber and I always stay in hotels.

Anonymous said...

But it's not all plain sailing. I came in the other night and, you know what, there was dog food in my bowl, I'm not kidding, fucking dog food. Brown fucking slop. And stone fucking cold. I gave them both a very severe glance. Eat this shit ? You're joking. Would you eat this shit ? It's fucking dogfood. Fucking shops run out of chicken ? No tins of tuna in the cupboard ?

They say I have to have dog food for my poos, makes them better, firmer. As if I care. They have to clean it up, not me. Anyway, when they get the runs, nobody says, here, good boy, eat this Butchers Tripe rubbish, cold, from the tin, down on all fours, that'll sort you out.

Have a chew, they said, if you don't wanna eat your dinner. Ever tried one of those fucking things ? 'Slike eating your fucking shoes. Those dogs on the adverts, full of shit they are, wagging their tails over some lump of fucking irradiated rhinoceros hide, Catch me eating that stuff. No fucking how.

Anyway, I only have to ignore the dogfood for a couple of times - and I keep a stash of grub in my beds for such occasions - and they cave in, go down the shop and get me a chicken. That's the trouble with people. You mustn't let them think they're in charge. Take all kind of liberties, they do.

This camping lark; does a maid come in and make your bed, clean your bowl, change the water ? I should hope so.

Anonymous said...

Right On Buster! I hope you don't live with animal lovers. animal lovers always are in a hurry to cut your precious bits off. Luckily I don't live with animal lovers.

Does your mum's fanny smell great?

Love Pigxxx

Anonymous said...

Dear Mr Pig

Yes, the bastards loved me so much they made me a eunuch. For my own good, eh ? Good boy, chop your balls off and burn them; there, that's better.

Go outside in the grounds and eat some grass, come back in and spew it up on the drawing room carpet, that's a good 'un, gets them going.

Oh look, little Buster's eating grass, he must be ill, poor little lamb.

They do that, you know, self-medicate, aren't animals clever, if only we did that.

Hedgerow's my pharmacy, that's what Monty Don used to say, mind you, silly bastard still had a stroke. He says.

Nice bowl of fennel and garlic porridge every three hours, wash down with a nice cup of willowbark tea. That'll sort him out, come back on telly in no time.

I think he was turning the compost heap of that scrawny ginger bint, Alyss, and Mrs Monty said fuck this shit, mate, it's gardeners world or me and so Monty simpered himself into a make-believe stroke, like a Bunbury out of Oscar Wilde.

Buster, she says, in best, patronising dogspeak, Mummy's little angel is poorly-woorly. Come and have some nice, hot chicken that Mummy's made you, there's a good boy. It's the very best, Hugh Furry Arsehole's best free range and twenty quid a kilo. I can't believe people still buy those ghastly Tesco chickens for their doggy companions, can you ? They are only fit for people who live in the slums, up North; I do believce they make Coq au Alcopop.

Anyway Mr Pig, drop round if you'e passing and I'll have, as the prime minister says to his chums, a good sniif up your arse.

love from Buster, a plumber's best friend

drevetailimin said...

I am so fucking glad that you remember my anecdote re: the Beastly arse getting glued up and felt the need to republish it.
I have much worse ones to share with the world, maybe you could be my agent?
Mr Beserk, I hear that you may be turning up for lunch next week?
We have that Essex ponce as a guest tomorrow, now it seems that not only do I have to feed and water your criminaly inclined step daughter and him but now you!
This blogging lark is getting fucking expensive.

Anonymous said...

Buster, I am going to chase you.

What is that all about? When they go oooey goooey mummsey's ickle poochy woochy?

Love Pig xxx

lilith said...

Good Luck Beast. Sit with your back to the wall and leave the furniture on the floor. And if there is any fault with the service let TT do the complaining ;-)

Anonymous said...

Dear pig

Fucked if I know. Mine do it interrogatively: who's the best little dog in the world, who's mummy's best boy ?

Have you noticed big Mr Beast ? One day he wants to be my dad's agent, next day he's saying he's the hunchbacks' representative on Earth and now he wants somebody else to be HIS agent. Needs a good bite up the arse if you ask me, help him make his mond up. Shall you do it or shall I? I am a Polish Yorkshire Terrier, so probably best equipped for determined biting, but you can do it if you want, or maybe we should both just rip his throat out. Show him who's boss of the beasts, eh?
Dogblokes rule, OK?

love from Buster (or Buster-boo as I am somewhat embarrassingly known, only don't tell anyone)

Anonymous said...

Buster-boo, Buster-boo, oochy coochy me!

I LOVE Polish Yorkshire Terriers. They are my favorites apart from fat old labradors who body block me when I run at them, sending me flying...wheee!

As to Mr Beast, I could go for the nuts, as long as someone says "Manchester United", (which makes me do this for some reason...) and you could go for the throat. He has been very, very rude about me. I suspect he is an animal lover.

Sniff, lick, chase me.


Elby the Beserk said...

Mr. Beast,

Sadly I suspect I won't be down next week, as it entails pulling Pig the dog over the capital whilst L pursues her various pursuits. So you may be doubly lucky getting L and daughter sans chaperone :-). However, it will happen at some point, I am sure, and do remember - it is possible to leave London. Frome Cheese Show, Sept 13 - be there or be square.

Calfy said...

Mullah you left out a close bracket allow me: )
And do mine eyes deceive me or did you take a chest of drawers camping?!

lilith said...

Yes, my childe, I took a chest of drawers camping, albeit a small one to put small things in that get lost easily inside a tent.