Six Chihuahuas, a pair of very sexy high-heel shoes, former Soviet President Kruschev, oh and a woman interfering with my buttocks all in the name of Hippocrates.
The last 72hrs have been turbulent, the weather has been crap, but the last few days I have got my arse into gear and been charging about. I don’t quite know where to begin, indeed I am not sure I am able to relate the entire sequence of Events, but I will start with the Six Chihuahuas which left me traumatised.
I met them in Portobello Road on Sunday at the coffee stand. Six of the little f*ckers, Wendy the owner, or Pack head as she describes herself introduced me to Parker the Daddy, aka the leader of the pack. I am sorry, but a pack of Chihuahuas? No a Pack of Dogs, is a big slobbering bunch of beasts, baying hounds that…
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