Imagine this spoken in proper cockney…
Alright. I’m Big Ern,
I’m a Dogue De Bordeaux.
When my owner Beard gets asked what breed I am, he sounds like a right pretentious twat because he puts on this posh voice… Basically, I’m from the same family as a French Mastiff but better.
In fact, I AM famous. My Great Great Great Doggy-Grandad was Hooch. You know the slobbery dog in the film Turner & Hooch.
I’m actually pretty famous where I live as well, we often walk, AKA I drag the lazy bastards down the road as people shout out their car windows “Hey Ernie!!” or hooded teenagers yell with their other fellow tracksuit wearing warriors “Oi! Mate! Your dog’s quality innit!?” That puts a spring in my step and ups my swagger on route to the fields.
When Beard and I are bossing it down the road, I’ve even had lovely old ladies waiting at the bus stop to give me a cheeky little pat and say “oh, Ernie you handsome old chap…” and I just think to myself, yeah I am handsome.
I like to frequent our local pub, The Greyhound, where I am doted on and treated like a King by both those who work there as well as all the regulars. Being the hairy celebrity I am, I strut past my painted portrait on the “Wall Of Paws” and I patiently await the delivery of my doggy sausage, 5 biscuits and water bowl. Once that silly cow Leanne didn’t order me a doggy sausage and she tied my lead to the table, so I dragged the table to the bar to let them know I wanted to make a complaint. She wasn’t happy about that but she’s never made the same mistake again.
Another time I chewed. And partially ate… an entire antique chair. I’ve never been allowed on the sofa again since then. I also gnawed on the stair bannisters, hence why I’m not allowed up there either.
I may look scary, and people often make jokes about me however I think they forget, if I wanted to, I could ingest them in one bite.
But I’m just not like that. I’m chilled. I live life in the slow lane. Unless you’ve got a frisbee or a ball then for some reason, I can’t control my arse – drives me nuts it does! Sometimes I wag my tail so hard my back legs get in on the action and I’m swaying worse than Jack Sparrow on The Black Pearl with a bottle of rum! Oh and puddles! I do love a puddle!!! Don’t forget the beach, either! The beach is the one! I love it down there and one day, I will catch that wave that keeps trying to come up and grab me. Sneaky git. Oh and mud… bloody love mud – I roll all about in it and if I can’t find mud, I will hunt out that fox shite and get myself scented up for the ladies. I make sure I give myself a real rub around in that, but when I do, I get shut in the porch and then have to go to the groomers where she makes me look and smell like a right tart.
Anyway, that’s me. I’m a mans man, a dogs dog. And now I’ve got to go, the ice cream vans on his way and I need to howl louder than that awful song he always plays, then I think it’s time for a cheeky sleep on the sofa while they’re all out…