Today began with a visit to the vet where Boef’s stitches were removed. The castration of Boef has had a visibly quantifiable effect.
No longer do we have to walk down the street accompanied by a pair of balls with accesorising puppy. As The Flipster commented; “Boef’s knobbly bits have vanished”! And a good thing too, he was verging on the pornographic.
Boef’s swagger is now less John Wayne and more Julian Cleary, plus he sings so much prettier this way. I sincerely hope The Classification Board concern themselves with the size of dogs balls in films. For the sake of our children.
postcards from the north 