My dog is a fucking stoner!

His name is Ollie, and he's about two years old. He is a Siberian Husky, and is as soft as shite. I've been in about four full-on fights with local street dogs, trying to protect the bastard. The local cats are plotting against him also.

I try not to smoke cigarettes when he is in the same room as, like all dogs, he hates the smoke. If I have skinned-up however, he will come and lie near me. He will shyly watch that hashish cigarette being passed between myself and my friend. I will ask him if he wants a toke. He will, of course, say fuck-all.

I will get a fucking good lung full and blow it gently around his head. He will turn away slightly like a right haughty cunt, savouring the resinous aroma. He loves it. He will then spend the next couple of hours amusing himself quietly in the living room, throwing a small piece of rawhide bone around pretending it's a fish or something.

There was a few friends around once. Cunts were skinning-up, and Ollie was lying beside me. As I was holding forth with an inspired conversational gem, I absent-mindedly held out the spliff to my left, and carried on talking. When noone took it, I looked to my side scowling. I was offering it to Ollie, who was looking at me questioningly. I know what he was thinking. He was thinking, "You are a dimwitted fool. Now blow some of that shit over this way, you opposable-thumbed cunt you".
Sirrah!

"Eminem has electrified the English language, and I haven't." Seamus Heaney