Monthly Archives: February 2006

As I sometimes suffer bouts of insomnia I decided to take Bastardface out for a late night stroll last night. It was quite cold and I was wrapped up well. Bastardface doesn’t feel the cold though. He’s double-hard.

Anyway, we’d walked for ages and ended up along the canal at Kilmainham. Not always a nice place to be and not at the late hour I was there. There’s a garage with a 24 hour shop which has a Star Wars missile defence system it gets robbed so much.

I figured we’d cross the bridge and head back along the South Circular Road. Just after we crossed I was approached by two likely lads. Both of them about 21 or 22. Both of them with gold hoops in each ear, one of them with a little fluffy Ronnie of a moustache because he couldn’t grow a real one, the other with all parts of his face pierced. Eyebrow, nose and the middle bit under your bottom lips.

“Nice dog”, Ronnie said.

“Yeah”, said Piercey as they stood in front of me.

“Yes, he is a nice dog”, I said, “but I’m afraid I don’t have time to discuss that with you two gentlemen. Places to go, people to see and all that.”

“Giz him”, said Ronnie.

“What?”, I said.

“Giz yer dog, mister. We want him.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible. You see, firstly I don’t want to give him to you. Secondly dogs, as I’m sure you know, are man’s best friend and I am a man therefore he is my best friend. You two look like proper chums. I’m sure you wouldn’t give Ronnie away, would you Piercey?”

“Eh? Who de bleedin’ fuck is Ronnie?”

“Nevermind. Thirdly – Bastardface, as that is his name, would not go with you even if I tried to give him away. He is as loyal as a goat and would resist all attempts to be lured, persuaded or forced to go with anyone else, let alone a couple of feckless clits like you pair.”

“Yer talkin’ out yer hoop ye aul’ bollix. It’s a fuckin’ dog. Ye grab his lead and dat’s de fuckin’ size of it. Reet?”

“Perhaps that would work with 99% of dogs but not with Bastardface. I can assure you of that.”

“Yer a spoofer”, said Piercey as he pulled out a knife. “De dog is ours now and you can’t do shite. Hand ‘im over.”

“You really don’t want me to do that.”

“Yeah, I really do, cuntchops. Now giz ‘im.”

I sighed. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you”, I said as I held out the lead which is a normal choke chain not one of those fancy extendable things.

“Haha. Deadly!”, said Ronnie as he moved to grab the lead.

“Arrrrrrgggghhh, get him off me!!”, cried Ronnie as Bastardface went on the offensive.

He truly hates being separated from me and thinks that anyone else will take him to a dirty kennels where he will have to mix with other dogs and won’t get a fresh cat to eat each day. His hackles were already raised and when stupid Ronnie tried to take him he chomped his hand and wouldn’t let go. Now, I’ve seen my dog chew through the toughest of bones that the butcher down the road always gives me so this cunt’s hand was no problem to him.

His hand won’t ever be a problem to anyone as most of it ended up in Bastardface’s stomach. He then turned his attention to the upper thigh area and took a chunk out of that. Ronnie fell on the ground.

Piercey had a knife and turned to stab Bastardface but forgot about me in his horror and got my size 10 boot in his balls. He then got Bastardface’s jaws around the top of his head, the little beanie hat he was wearing offering little protection as scalp tartare was on the menu. I let him chomp away at them for a while before giving him the whistle to stop.

“I did tell you!”, I said to the two bloodied messes. “You should have listened while you had the chance. Of course listening is going to much more difficult in the future without your ears, but there you go. See you cunts later.”

We set off towards home and he walked alongside me, looking up occasionally and wagging his tail. I patted his massive head.

“Good dog”, I said. “Good dog.”