Monday, 27 July 2009

Two-pics Cube

What up blogfans. Regular visitors to The Cube will notice I've been pretty quiet of late. Long story short: I went up on the Fourth Plinth in Trafalgar Square to do an hour of pretty much being cool, but while I was at it some Cockney tinker made off with the ladder, so I was stuck up there for a month waiting for a new plinth ladder to be delivered (they have to ship them in from America; I don't even know why). While I was up there without food or water, I started to realise what it must be like to be David Blaine, ie fucking shit, so I won't be doing that again.
Anyway, I'm back now and, what's more, I've brought you some more poetry about dogs. The last time I laid some canine rhyme on you the reaction was pretty incredible. I'm not kidding: I had TWO comments! My computer almost melted under the strain and I had to call someone from PC World to advise ("Stop chucking water on your PC, Mr Cube. Switch it off and don't switch it back on until it's dried out.").

So here you are: two more poems, and two more images lifted from google images which will lead hundreds of people unwittingly to this page when really all they wanted was a picture of a Labrador with which to make their nan a birthday card. Enjoy.

Vision of the Future
With progression in eye surgery
And the blind no more
What further use, the poor Labrador?

Labrador: No toilet roll. No blind guy. Lazy.

Glittering Prize

Cocker spaniel

Thought he was handsome

thought he was tough

just cos he won a medal at Crufts

Cocky Spaniel

Cocker Spaniel: miserable.

Hope you enjoyed the latest doggy verse. Again, feel free to send in your own poems. I will probably buy a filet-o-fish for the writer of the best one, unless I find out you have copied it out of a book. You cheater.


  1. I love filet-of-fish me. Here's my poem. Hope you like it.

    The Dog Who Used To Live Next Door But One

    The poor brown dog with wonky eyes
    whose crusty nose attracted flies...
    No chance of aiding natural selection,
    He had to face a lethal injection.

  2. Saint?

    The Saint Bernard is brave
    He's in the business of saving lives
    The courage displayed, however, does not come from within
    As can be seen from his collar, it's Dutch

  3. Mr Bunter. You are to be commended for your stellar verse (and on not having aged in 100 years). Google would suggest that you didn't copy that poem off anyone else, so you are in the running for the filet-o-fish, which I've ordered already, because they never have any ready at the counter.

  4. Lisa: what a great poem, with an incredible twist at the end. It's going to be difficult deciding the destination of that filet-o-fish. It may be the hardest decision I've ever had to make...

  5. His silky ears and his long shiny chestnut coat,
    Majestically flew behind him as like a butterfly he did float,
    Ducking and diving and raining down mighty blows
    On that big wuss Seagal, snorting scornfully down his dread setter nose.

    Bringing together the dog poetry and the Seagal theme... here's an idea, Seagal fight all the Krufts winners in hand to paw combat, it could be called "Duffeds"?

  6. Good work Agent Nightingale. The competition is certainly hotting up. Good dog/Segal crossover...