Pissheads in the street

I decided to walk Chico around some local streets this evening; my primary goal was to avoid the elite dog breeding snobs who gather down my local park.

I genuinely tire of the nosey bastards giving out their uninvited ‘advice’ about dog obedience; he’s a disobedient fucker, just like me, so they should piss off back to Crufts with their inbred pedigree chums!

Still, it’s not long until the clocks go back, darker evenings = cheerio trophy dog loving fuckers.

Anyway, I digress, back to the walk.  Tonight, I was accosted by a pissed thirty-something year old bloke who was slumped/backed up against the bonnet of his white van, outside his house, drinking a can of fosters lager.

Our conversation, went exactly like this:

Pissed fella:  You should treat him good mate, or you’ll come back as a dog in the next life.
Me:  Yeah? 
(I took a sharp Intake of breath, steadied myself for the inevitable onslaught of drunken bullshit and deployed my well-practiced ‘pleasant and interested’ facial expression that I keep for such occasions)
Pissed fella:  Yeah!  I proper believe that I do. 
Me:  Oh really, I reckon there’s something in that theor………..
Pissed fella:  Yeah!  You know when you see flies in a house, bumping their faces off the windows?  They’re all people who have hurt dogs in the past and have to eat dog shit as punishment.  
Me:  Yeah?  I believe that too!
Pissed fella:  Yeah!!!   Nothing more certain is there???
Me:  True.  Have a nice evening mate.
Pissed fella:  I will. 

A profound chat about reincarnation on a Wednesday evening with an upstanding member of society; I live in such an enlightened neighbourhood?!?

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