That fucking dog!

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Cuddles, Aug 11, 2011.

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  1. Brethren of Arrse, many of you I know have dogs and foul arses. Like myself. They go together so well. You fart, the dog loves it. You fart, the wife hates it, you blame the dog. Sweet as.

    Or it was until my bloody dog mastered the art of replicating almost exactly the odour of my own, somewhat disgusting, emissions. Now today that could easily be explained away by my having given him the unconsumed portion of a home-made Gurkha pork curry, a vegetable bhaji and a stuffed paratha of my own diabolical concoction. I'll be making that again by the way.

    Which is pretty much SOPs for the brown fella and he and I are content with that. Or we were until this morning when he carried out a sort of backdoor act of ventriloquism or impressionism...I came down to sign for a parcel about 0700. Then popped to let him out and dropped my guts en route. He stared at me, frowned a bit and then promptly produced a stomach clenching guff of epic and identical odour but silently as he does.

    Now I say it smelled identical to mine. Yet I like my farts, particularly curry and beer fuelled ones but this turned my stomach. Which promptly responded by pumping out some fierce templates for the dog to replicate.

    Which he has been doing all morning to the point where my office is definitely a breathing apparatus zone. TFB brought me a mug of tea and violently attacked me for being a farty monster. "It's the dog..." I began reasonably. "Oh no it isn't. I know the smell of yours and that is one of them!"

    Man's best friend? Not anymore! I wouldn't mind but I spent ages preparing that banquet and washed it down with several pints of Gloucestershire's Glory. Then he has the gall to mimic my trumps and put me, in the doghouse where he belongs.
     
  2. Digger manages much same with the aid of Fosters, Floaters and prawns. We happily sprawl around trying to gas each other until one of us nearly follows through. Then Mrs Bonzo gets into a raging bate and puts us out into the paddock until we have calmed down