There's a special section of hell reserved for the people who design the treads on children's trainers. It's right next to the section for the people who let their dogs do little poos in the park.
I'm just saying, that's all.
Friday, 28 March 2008
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Where I come from the art of removing dog poo from shoes via a patch of scrubby grass is known as the 'Tenby Shit Shuffle'.
Up here, I believe you call it Northern Soul dancing ;-)
Finally the man concedes to the notion that everyone else subscribed to ages ago - this blog is full of crap.
When I was younger - so much younger than today - I were walking down a street with my beloved.
In front of us, a man and his dog. All six legs were evidently walking slower than our four since we were gaining ground on them.
Suddenly the one with four legs bombed the pavement with a brown, curly egg. We were eight footsteps from a meeting with the towering turd, which sent the missus into a state of near-apoplexy.
Since then, whenever I've suggested we go out for a meal, she's been quick to verify that dog shit isn't on the menu, in case she gags again.
That's Subway out then.
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