Would you like to do it dogie - she asked.

Pubs in Ireland are fine places, good drink - well most times - nice company and surprising conversation.

I was enjoying me pint, when Beryl arrives and sat on the stool beside me. She leaned in and whispered. "Would you like to come up to my place and do it dogie?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well I will go home and go to the bedroom and take off all my clothes. The latch will be off the door and you come up and join me. Take off your clothes in the hall and come into the bedroom."

"Then what?"

"We get down on our hands and knees on the floor. You can sniff my behind. I will sniff yours and we'll growl. See you soon," she said, walking for the door.

She saw that look on my face. "You won't come up!"

"No!"

"Why?"

"I don't want to catch a disease."

Well - when I got back up off the floor, she was roaring. "I'm clean! I'm not diseased! What would you get from me?"

"Rabies."