It’s so bad that even the guys updating the Now and Next text guide have gone to walk the dog; failing to update the schedule…Film 2006 has already started.
Come rain, snow or blow we are free to walk our dog. It’s long been man’s excuse to escape nagging housewives, mother-in-laws, and schizoid girlfriends: The dog needs walking.
And here, ladies and gentlemen, is our dog:
Not only is it A dog…it is THE dog. And walking the dog is the best thing since the dog’s bollocks. …which brings me to a mini-lesson:
Bollocks = testicles. Why does a dog lick its bollocks? Because it can and that’s great. And, at the time of publishing, you won’t find that accurate a description of the origin of the phrase anywhere on the ‘net. Trust me on the meaning, I’m a farmer’s boy and I spent far too much time with animals as a child.
Many moons ago, Newcastle, in the northeast of England, was an area of heavy industry, mainly coal mining. The men up there worked long hours, doing hard and very dangerous jobs for very low wages.
It’s only natural for a man to want a beer or fifteen after a hard shift. The trouble being that the nagging woman wouldn’t want him spending that pitiful sum of money he’d slogged his guts out for; mouths to feed and all that.
But that didn’t stop our man, oh no!
He’d simply explain that he was taking the dog for a walk. The perfect excuse to get out of the house.
In those times disease was rife and the last thing you wanted was dog mess all over the house. Best let the man take his dog out.
The thing is, the man always took his wallet with him and walking the dog usually involved a pub, about a dozen beers, a game of darts, and possibly a brawl…and going home broke.
To this very day, even if people don’t own a dog, they often take one for a walk or at least go to see a man about a dog.
In pubs throughout the northeast of England if you ask for a bottle of dog, you’ll be presented with a bottle of Newcastle Brown Ale, the original dog.
Those Geordie boys know how to coin a phrase.