One man and his dog.

Was lurking around putting up some posters for a Hip Hop night/event we are putting on tomorrow. So a last min push is always on the cards. 

So this means that the posters we are putting up are on the large side, attention grabbing, but also mean the wind likes to try to grab them too, ball ache.

While giving a former social club a quick exterior revamp with some lovely A2 black and whites I became aware of a presence behind myself, upon strain inspection it was a rather large white bulldog.

Fear not though for I am not scared of dogs, although I loath cats, also on later, but may I add not close up inspection the mutt did posses one of the largest sets of testicals I have ever seen on a small* animal.

It is best of to think Van Wilder for those of you, like myself, who care for a bit of puerile American cinema.

Anyway I had both hands busy dealing with my work and this well endowed mutt was sniffing about my person and I was rather not wanting undue attention to my work - my "fans" will be touched upon in later blogs - when I heard a huge, booming, manly, tattoos on knuckles, full English every farking day of the week if you bloody well please, you can add in the moody gold jewels, white beater, faded city tattoos, voice cry out;

Very angry man (VAN): "oi! Twat get you white arse over here!"

Now two things ran through my mind, firstly is my backside hanging out? If so had the dog somehow lowered my drain pipes with out me noticing and perhaps a thong on a beach isn't such an odd idea if I want to tan really evenly next year.

Now I am bread from fairly gentle stock, I am middle class and haven't been in a proper fight since I was 12 when Kane pined me to the floor in school and I elbowed him in the face giving him a, accidental, shiner. 

So my response, bear in mind I still have both hands holding up a poster and a stripe of white tack hanging out of my mouth. The wind kicking up a little still so the poster was flapping and thus slapping me in the face somewhat, I managed to swivel my head in the direction I believed the hearty salutations to becoming from and in enquired;

Poster boy (PB): "errrrrm...sorry can I help you mush?"

May I add also that the dog was still having a good sniff and investigations of my person at this point

VAN: "You faaaaaarking heard me get you backside back in the van!"

Not necessarily panic but worry was beginning to swirl around my insides at this moment, firstly I have not been in a van today, have no wish to be in a van and why does he want me to get in the van with him.

I had by now secured the black and white to the outside of the social club and so I turned to face the voice that I now believe was most likely wanting to either a. remove myself and my wallet from one another or b. be the big spoon. I was now facing the burly gent, half in and half out of the driver’s door of a white van

VAN: "Stop being a prick and get in the van"

PB: "I, er…I'm sorry mate what?"

VAN: "Sorry fella, not talking to you, talking to Billy there"

Billy was, as you have probably guessed was the gent’s dog. He uttered a lashing more explivities, all of which I am pretty sure and not in the Kennel Club members how to guide on getting your canine to return to you, before the dog which had also by now pissed directly below my poster and I was having to negotiating the stream as I began putting up a second poster - acoustic night in a weeks time - returned to the van and climbed through the half open door and onto the passenger seat.

VAN: "Didn't mean to give you a fright maaaate, just Billy's a little prick, aren't ya!"

Hardly.

So the burly gent got his dog back in his van, I evaded possibly combo of buggery and robbery (bobbery? rubbery? - urgh) and I managed to almost, not stand in dog piss. 

*What I generally class as small animal is anything that can, reasonably be kept in doors, cats, dogs, rabbits, small rodents (are there large rodents and if so how big???), birds, lizards and reptiles. 

Although I haven’t actually seen the bollocks of the final three. Not that I have ever set out too either. I am not an animal perv. I love animals just not in a wanting to slather peanut butter on my self and be thrown to an over zealous wolfhound.

Creation.

I have been suggested by, most will agree that many great ideas do come from this source, my mother to blog the goings on, happenings, occurrences, sites, sounds and smells that I have and do come across in my capacity as a poster boy.

I am not what you would call a traditional poster boy, I do not have flowing golden locks and a body you could grate iron filings off of, although I am a long way from winning a Jonny Vegas-a-like compo.

No, I will not be found adorning calendars, knowingly, up and down the country. I am the other poster boy, the forgotten one. I spend my time putting up posters and other promotional material for clubs, gigs, bands, events, parties and so forth.

I also DJ a few times a week but frankly a blog about that seemed a little to easy and I am already horrendously self involved and narcissistic and this would simply lead to a heightening of the situation.

I have promoted and gigged through out UK for several years now and have begun to write down all that I have seen for posterity and thought other might like to share these and share your own experiences.

So prepare for some average observational humor, dry wit and poor spelling.