It is utter chaos.
The house looks like it hasnt been cleaned in a million years and tomorrow Prior, Milly and Paz are descending for New Years Eve.
Its just crazy, as you are aware the house is the size of of size 3 shoe box and the problem is, where do the pets put all their Christmas Presents when all the cupboards are so heavily over burdened already?
The tidying is not being helped as Fings mind is elsewhere, normally the natural leader of the pets, his mind is still realing from last night at the Coven when he witnessed an impossibly fat woman being fingered on the dance floor. Thankfully Colin the Doorman interviened, for fear the man may loose his arm.
As a result he cannot concentrate on the job in hand as images of cellulite ridden thighs writhing on the dancefloor still torment his poor feline mind.
He is sitting on the sofa as the rest of the pets work as one in an effort to tidy, yet on mass working against each other.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face will carefully move a pile of magazines into the kitchen to be thrown away, the Lulu upon finding them there, takes them back to the sitting room as they belong on the coffee table.
Add to this Trotter, to whom cleaning is a dirty word, tossing cushions about and generally running amok with an occaisional bark at the coffee table.
I am wondering if the house will ever be clean.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Friday, December 29, 2006
Portrait
Teeny Tiny Margo was very surprised when she discovered that her portrait was to be hung in the National Portrait Gallery.
She isn't sure she likes it.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
A Year In Pictures
In June this year, Fing was pleased to see that his famous bear catching cousin, Jack, was still up to his old tricks, despite being crippled with arthritis and suffering from chronic hairballs.
In the summer Trotter and Fing took acid and the sky melted.
In the spring I was mugged by these street ducks and spent a week recovering from a heavily bruised shin from several nasty pecks.
Inbetween Times
And so we are in a wierd place, half way between the 2 biggest piss ups each year.
Christmas has passed, Trotter has been recovering from all the excitement by being played soothing music and having cold compresses applied to his hot forehead by Fing.
Tutz and Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face have gone to the Christmas sales and come back with all kinds of unusual crap that they were very pleasd with.
Lulu is sulking as she was given a stripy T shirt saying 'Cutie - Pie' which Martha has been forcing her to wear. She finds it slightly incongrous that she should be a cutie pie with a cuban cigar hanging from her mouth and a half finished bottle of Jack next to her. She is sulking in the sitting room watching Stepford Wives, which she is finding bizzarely entertaining.
Fat Boy Faggot is having a lovely bubble bath and is reading Agatha Christies 'Murder on the orient express' He has a glass of champagne on the edge of the bath and his head is encased in a shower cap to keep his ears dry.
The pets are not sure what they will be doing on New Years Eve yet, will it be the Brewery Gate? Probably.
Christmas has passed, Trotter has been recovering from all the excitement by being played soothing music and having cold compresses applied to his hot forehead by Fing.
Tutz and Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face have gone to the Christmas sales and come back with all kinds of unusual crap that they were very pleasd with.
Lulu is sulking as she was given a stripy T shirt saying 'Cutie - Pie' which Martha has been forcing her to wear. She finds it slightly incongrous that she should be a cutie pie with a cuban cigar hanging from her mouth and a half finished bottle of Jack next to her. She is sulking in the sitting room watching Stepford Wives, which she is finding bizzarely entertaining.
Fat Boy Faggot is having a lovely bubble bath and is reading Agatha Christies 'Murder on the orient express' He has a glass of champagne on the edge of the bath and his head is encased in a shower cap to keep his ears dry.
The pets are not sure what they will be doing on New Years Eve yet, will it be the Brewery Gate? Probably.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Its Snowing in Trotter land
Its all to much for a boy.
Trotter awoke at half past 3 this morning, filled with such a heady excitement that it proved impossible to go back to sleep.
He knew his stocking was hanging at the end of his basket, but was too wracked with nerves to go and see if Santa had left him anything else but a lump of coal.
Fing had always told him that if he was bad, and too be fair, bad is what Trotter does best, all he would receive would be a lump of coal in his stocking.
And so the long hours passed with Trotter fidgeting in his basket, until finally, Tutz appeared wearing half a cracker for a hat.
'Prroot?' she asked, then went to sit by the Christmas angel and proceeded to whistle 'Land of Hope and Glory', completely off key. Trotter wondered if this was a sign from the Lord, but hoped not as it would mean that God, should he exist, was completely and utterly barking mad.
He sighed in a dejected manner.
Half an hour later Fing arrived, the master of ceremonies and gathered all off the pets into the sitting room to open their presents.
Fat Boy Faggot had received some bath oils, fragrant drawer liners and a bottle of cognac.
Tutz had received some new CD's, a framed picture of 50 cent and a scarf and gloves.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west had a bottle of Jack, some fine Cuban cigars and a Delia Smith cookery book.
Fing had some new slacks for dancing in, a pair of tap shoes and a clarinet.
Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face had a black widow catapult, marbles and some itching powder.
At last it was Trotters turn, he sniffed the opening of his stocking in an experimental manner, and was delighted when a wonderful smell emanated from the opening. It was a cheese board! Filled with cheese from around the world! Stinky old Stilton, mild emmental, strong Cheddar with caramelised onions, brie and boursin!
All in all it was just too much for the boy to bear, he ate all the cheese in a matter of moments, then, pushed to the brink by over indulging and lack of sleep went on a rampage of frenzied barking and mischief making, which kind of proved that all he really should have received was that lump of coal.
Finally, exhausted, he has collapsed by the Christmas tree and is dreaming dreams of electric sleep.
A very happy Christmas to you all.
Trotter awoke at half past 3 this morning, filled with such a heady excitement that it proved impossible to go back to sleep.
He knew his stocking was hanging at the end of his basket, but was too wracked with nerves to go and see if Santa had left him anything else but a lump of coal.
Fing had always told him that if he was bad, and too be fair, bad is what Trotter does best, all he would receive would be a lump of coal in his stocking.
And so the long hours passed with Trotter fidgeting in his basket, until finally, Tutz appeared wearing half a cracker for a hat.
'Prroot?' she asked, then went to sit by the Christmas angel and proceeded to whistle 'Land of Hope and Glory', completely off key. Trotter wondered if this was a sign from the Lord, but hoped not as it would mean that God, should he exist, was completely and utterly barking mad.
He sighed in a dejected manner.
Half an hour later Fing arrived, the master of ceremonies and gathered all off the pets into the sitting room to open their presents.
Fat Boy Faggot had received some bath oils, fragrant drawer liners and a bottle of cognac.
Tutz had received some new CD's, a framed picture of 50 cent and a scarf and gloves.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west had a bottle of Jack, some fine Cuban cigars and a Delia Smith cookery book.
Fing had some new slacks for dancing in, a pair of tap shoes and a clarinet.
Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face had a black widow catapult, marbles and some itching powder.
At last it was Trotters turn, he sniffed the opening of his stocking in an experimental manner, and was delighted when a wonderful smell emanated from the opening. It was a cheese board! Filled with cheese from around the world! Stinky old Stilton, mild emmental, strong Cheddar with caramelised onions, brie and boursin!
All in all it was just too much for the boy to bear, he ate all the cheese in a matter of moments, then, pushed to the brink by over indulging and lack of sleep went on a rampage of frenzied barking and mischief making, which kind of proved that all he really should have received was that lump of coal.
Finally, exhausted, he has collapsed by the Christmas tree and is dreaming dreams of electric sleep.
A very happy Christmas to you all.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Panto
Martha has returned from her annual festive trip to hell and back, in which she is forced to travel to Hereford to visit her cruel and unusual stepmother, the evil Betty.
In a scrip similar to a pantomine, Martha, like soome hard done by Cinderella, is forced to help the spiteful and malicious stepmother back to Oxford.
Unfortunately Betty never turns into a pumpkin, or receive the just desserts of all fairy tail baddies, but continues to prosper in her beautiful abode packed full of antiques.
Yo, and verily, it is such that only the good die young and Betty is infact 700 years old and has a pact with Be-elzebub, in which she never ages and in return has agreed to inflict torments on all around her.
Poor Martha.
In a scrip similar to a pantomine, Martha, like soome hard done by Cinderella, is forced to help the spiteful and malicious stepmother back to Oxford.
Unfortunately Betty never turns into a pumpkin, or receive the just desserts of all fairy tail baddies, but continues to prosper in her beautiful abode packed full of antiques.
Yo, and verily, it is such that only the good die young and Betty is infact 700 years old and has a pact with Be-elzebub, in which she never ages and in return has agreed to inflict torments on all around her.
Poor Martha.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Hope, Faith and CHARITY
'BBBRRRRRrrrrrrrrrr', Trotters teeth chatter in the icy mist of the morning, 'Bbbbrbbrrrrrrr'
It is so cold that all the spiders webs have frozen solid and are likely to shatter if touched.
This means that all the spiders are in temporary accommodation in Thelma's Rosemary bush and are being served soup in plastic cups by volunteers from the Red Cross. Trotters is very concerned as some of the spiders are elderly so he is helping to drape the worlds smallest blankets over their 8 spindly legs and is helping them to sit old cushions donated by the public.
This time of year is not just about getting pissed with your mates, its not just about presents and Father Christmas and being with your family.
Think about all the homeless people out there, shivering in the cold.
To be fair, you all know I don't give a shit about the homeless, but remember that the homeless have dogs. So if you see a shivering homeless person in the street with a homeless dog sitting next to them, perhaps you would like to think about popping into Sainsburys and buying that dog some food, or a toy or a treat.
To be fair, you all know I don't give a shit about the homeless, but remember that the homeless have dogs. So if you see a shivering homeless person in the street with a homeless dog sitting next to them, perhaps you would like to think about popping into Sainsburys and buying that dog some food, or a toy or a treat.
A Dog is for Life, not just for Christmas.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Appetite for Destruction
After the success of the Royal Albert the pets felt elated and full of Christmas Joy de Vie. They hummed and sang and danced, imagined that it had snowed and put of the Christmas Tree.
When they had put up the Christmas Tree they all sat on the sofa in a long furry line and watched 'Its a wonderful life' on DVD.
Having watched the DVD they decided to go to Salisbury's. Fing made sure everyone had their woolly hats and scarves on, loaded Lulu, Tutz and Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face into the trolley and set off.
It was quite an exciting trip. In an idle moment a couple of weeks ago Fing and Fat Boy Faggot had devised a special harness to attach Trotter to the Trolley and today was the first time for the roughly hewn prototype to be tried out.
They waited until they had got safely across the lights, then helped Trotter into the harness, and attached it to the trolley. Trotter was enormously excited and looked very resplendent in his World War 2 Fighter Pilot Jacket and leather cap with ear flaps.
Fing and Fat Boy jumped onto the sides of the Trolley and they were off!
Given Trotters propensity for running as fast as a cheeter on speed and the derelict nature of the shopping trolley it was perhaps, an accident waiting to happen.
They set off up the road at nealy 70mph, with Trotters legs hairing up the pavement, ear flaps on his hat flying backwards in the wind. Fing and Fat Boy gripping on for dear life, eyes almost closed, the intense speed, like G Force, contorting their tiny faces.
Inside the Trolley it was chaos, having not thought of the notion of seat beats, Lulu, Giggsey Girl and Tutz were being thrown around left right and centre, almost as if they were in a large and unwieldy maraca, but obviously not as rattly, more a muted cacophony of 'MEWS!, 'YELPS' and 'OUCH's'.
It couldnt of ended calmly, not realistically. No one had warned Trotter about corners, no one had thought to tell the boy to perhaps slow down. No.
It was carnage, as Trotter took the corner at nearly 80mph the front left wheel of the trolley hit a tiny, inconspicuous stone and took to the air.
Fing and the Fag ended up in the tree, Tutz, Giggs and Lulu all mangled in the bushes, and Trotter? Trotter hadn't even noticed, he was still running in the middle distance pulling nothing but a set of wheels, a faint plume of smoke coming from the wreckage.
After they had extricated themselves from the shrubbery, Lulu and Tutz helped the boys down from the tree, Giggsey Girl was sent to Salisbury's to buy some brandy and they all set off home, like a bunch of wounded soldiers, without bandages perhaps, but all a bit dusty and rather tatty and feeling very sorry for themselves.
Except Trotter! Trotter was already at home, panting by the front gate, harness still attached, the destroyed trolley frame behind him, a look of shocked surprise in his eyes.
'What happened to you guys?' he asked in amazement.
Nothing was said, Fing and Faggy helped Trotter out of the harness, which was then taken to the dustbin shed and tossed unceremoniously into a bin.
When they had put up the Christmas Tree they all sat on the sofa in a long furry line and watched 'Its a wonderful life' on DVD.
Having watched the DVD they decided to go to Salisbury's. Fing made sure everyone had their woolly hats and scarves on, loaded Lulu, Tutz and Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face into the trolley and set off.
It was quite an exciting trip. In an idle moment a couple of weeks ago Fing and Fat Boy Faggot had devised a special harness to attach Trotter to the Trolley and today was the first time for the roughly hewn prototype to be tried out.
They waited until they had got safely across the lights, then helped Trotter into the harness, and attached it to the trolley. Trotter was enormously excited and looked very resplendent in his World War 2 Fighter Pilot Jacket and leather cap with ear flaps.
Fing and Fat Boy jumped onto the sides of the Trolley and they were off!
Given Trotters propensity for running as fast as a cheeter on speed and the derelict nature of the shopping trolley it was perhaps, an accident waiting to happen.
They set off up the road at nealy 70mph, with Trotters legs hairing up the pavement, ear flaps on his hat flying backwards in the wind. Fing and Fat Boy gripping on for dear life, eyes almost closed, the intense speed, like G Force, contorting their tiny faces.
Inside the Trolley it was chaos, having not thought of the notion of seat beats, Lulu, Giggsey Girl and Tutz were being thrown around left right and centre, almost as if they were in a large and unwieldy maraca, but obviously not as rattly, more a muted cacophony of 'MEWS!, 'YELPS' and 'OUCH's'.
It couldnt of ended calmly, not realistically. No one had warned Trotter about corners, no one had thought to tell the boy to perhaps slow down. No.
It was carnage, as Trotter took the corner at nearly 80mph the front left wheel of the trolley hit a tiny, inconspicuous stone and took to the air.
Fing and the Fag ended up in the tree, Tutz, Giggs and Lulu all mangled in the bushes, and Trotter? Trotter hadn't even noticed, he was still running in the middle distance pulling nothing but a set of wheels, a faint plume of smoke coming from the wreckage.
After they had extricated themselves from the shrubbery, Lulu and Tutz helped the boys down from the tree, Giggsey Girl was sent to Salisbury's to buy some brandy and they all set off home, like a bunch of wounded soldiers, without bandages perhaps, but all a bit dusty and rather tatty and feeling very sorry for themselves.
Except Trotter! Trotter was already at home, panting by the front gate, harness still attached, the destroyed trolley frame behind him, a look of shocked surprise in his eyes.
'What happened to you guys?' he asked in amazement.
Nothing was said, Fing and Faggy helped Trotter out of the harness, which was then taken to the dustbin shed and tossed unceremoniously into a bin.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Faithless
The Carol Service at the Albert went down a storm.
The audience went wild as the 6 pets walked on stage, the boys in tuxedo's and the girls in gowns.
The first song, an accapella version of 'Marys Boy Child' was greeted with cautious applause, but when Trotter did his solo 'Silent Night' a brace of German Shepperd's in the front row were so overwhelmed they stormed the stage and had to escorted off by security.
Tutz sat on a stool and chirped her way through 'O little town of Bethlehem' with some supportive festive wailing in the background by the slug face.
Throughout all, Fing, resplendent in black velvet, Dickie bow firmly under chin, waived his baton, with a steely glint in his already determined eye. So much so that Fat Boy Faggot had an attack of the vapours and had to go for a lay down round the back and had to be soothed by having napkins fanned in his fat furry face.
All the pets took their turn, and the applause grew louder and louder, until the finale, when Shane McGowen joined the pets on stage to play the piano for 'Fairytale'
They had a standing ovation, flowers were thrown, a rather giddy peke threw her collar at Trotter in a sultry and suggestive manner, Trotter, being a bit on the daft side, threw it back and nearly brained her.
It was a night to be treasured and remembered.
The Preachers Lane Pet Choir say thank you, and goodnight!
The audience went wild as the 6 pets walked on stage, the boys in tuxedo's and the girls in gowns.
The first song, an accapella version of 'Marys Boy Child' was greeted with cautious applause, but when Trotter did his solo 'Silent Night' a brace of German Shepperd's in the front row were so overwhelmed they stormed the stage and had to escorted off by security.
Tutz sat on a stool and chirped her way through 'O little town of Bethlehem' with some supportive festive wailing in the background by the slug face.
Throughout all, Fing, resplendent in black velvet, Dickie bow firmly under chin, waived his baton, with a steely glint in his already determined eye. So much so that Fat Boy Faggot had an attack of the vapours and had to go for a lay down round the back and had to be soothed by having napkins fanned in his fat furry face.
All the pets took their turn, and the applause grew louder and louder, until the finale, when Shane McGowen joined the pets on stage to play the piano for 'Fairytale'
They had a standing ovation, flowers were thrown, a rather giddy peke threw her collar at Trotter in a sultry and suggestive manner, Trotter, being a bit on the daft side, threw it back and nearly brained her.
It was a night to be treasured and remembered.
The Preachers Lane Pet Choir say thank you, and goodnight!
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Concert
It was an evening of fraught nerves, all last night came the sound of gut wrenching vomiting as the pets nerves got the better of them. Performing at the Royal Albert Hall is not to be taken lightly, not by anyone, least of all 6 pets from Oxford.
Fing has given the troops a bit of a rallying talk and has managed to get all of the pets onto a mini bus hired specially for the occasion.
Varne and Mrs Warboise had gathered especially to wave the pets off and cheer with gusto as the mini bus pulls off.
Tutz is in the front with the driver, making odd chirruping sounds and eating lemon sherbets.
Trotter is barking out the back window in a frenetic and disturbed manner.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face and Fat Boy Faggot are conserving their energy by sleeping.
Lulu is eating everyone else's packed lunches, she will later blame it on an attack of nerves, knowing full well it was plain fat greed that prompted the decision.
Fing is waiving his baton and thinking about the evenings performance.
It's a tough job, but someone has to do it.
Fing has given the troops a bit of a rallying talk and has managed to get all of the pets onto a mini bus hired specially for the occasion.
Varne and Mrs Warboise had gathered especially to wave the pets off and cheer with gusto as the mini bus pulls off.
Tutz is in the front with the driver, making odd chirruping sounds and eating lemon sherbets.
Trotter is barking out the back window in a frenetic and disturbed manner.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face and Fat Boy Faggot are conserving their energy by sleeping.
Lulu is eating everyone else's packed lunches, she will later blame it on an attack of nerves, knowing full well it was plain fat greed that prompted the decision.
Fing is waiving his baton and thinking about the evenings performance.
It's a tough job, but someone has to do it.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Extinct
I don't know about you, but 'Extinct' left me in tears last night.
What is wrong with man kind that all they can do is destroy?
The saddest thing about this program is that they are asking you to vote to save one species, HELLO? Shouldn't we all be doing everything we can to save all of them? Isn't each and every one of those animals unique and irreplaceable?
Please give money to the WWF, you can do this directly at
http://wwf.org.uk
or donate with
http://www.giveasyouearn.org
either way your money can help save animals, birds and fish from being wiped off the face of this world.
What is wrong with man kind that all they can do is destroy?
The saddest thing about this program is that they are asking you to vote to save one species, HELLO? Shouldn't we all be doing everything we can to save all of them? Isn't each and every one of those animals unique and irreplaceable?
Please give money to the WWF, you can do this directly at
http://wwf.org.uk
or donate with
http://www.giveasyouearn.org
either way your money can help save animals, birds and fish from being wiped off the face of this world.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Belief
Contrary to the belief of idiot cuntryside alliance fox hunting morons, Fox's do not enjoy being chased for miles across open countryside by a bunch of wankers on horseback then being ripped to pieces by a bunch of slavering dogs.
Fox's much prefer getting into hen coups and killing all the chickens, just for fun.
They like upsetting the countryside alliance by killing pheasants designed for the shoot.
They like to tap dance in the moonlight and listen to free style jazz concerts without paying to get in.
Wouldn't it be lovely if we could round up all the aforementioned idiot hunters, strip them naked, then chase them for miles across open countryside and all cheer with great enthusiasm when they got ripped to shred's by a pack of slavering dogs?
I mean, come on! Not only would it resolve the fox hunting issue but would also halve unemployment in the countryside.
Surely it's worth thinking about?
Fox's much prefer getting into hen coups and killing all the chickens, just for fun.
They like upsetting the countryside alliance by killing pheasants designed for the shoot.
They like to tap dance in the moonlight and listen to free style jazz concerts without paying to get in.
Wouldn't it be lovely if we could round up all the aforementioned idiot hunters, strip them naked, then chase them for miles across open countryside and all cheer with great enthusiasm when they got ripped to shred's by a pack of slavering dogs?
I mean, come on! Not only would it resolve the fox hunting issue but would also halve unemployment in the countryside.
Surely it's worth thinking about?
Fox Hunters
Fox HuntersDid you know that in Cockney Rhyming Slang, the term 'Berk' actually means 'Cunt'?
The Royal Berkshire Hunt = Cunt.
Its official.
The Royal Berkshire Hunt are the Cunts in the Countryside Alliance.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Baking Day
It was Gingerbread madness in the house yesterday.Stuart and Shane arrived within minutes of each other to an expectant and excited group of pets, and almost immediately they all went into town to buy ingredients and cutters to make Gingerbread men, women, stars and angels.
It seemed at first that the day was destined for disaster, there were no cutters to be found in Whitards, Dyers or Boswells. Thankfully Debenhams had stocked up!
They walked back to Sainsburys to buy all their cookie ingredients to find, alas! No Ginger!
Shane set off with a determined stride to Holland and Barratt, where he was forced to buy a bag of ginger the size of Belgium, so not to dissapoint the pets.
Ingredients purchased they got back home and whipped up some dough, which didn't go to plan, first of all it was so dry it was, in fact, more a crumble than a dough, but by adding more melted butter they eventually made large ball of dough and put it into the fridge to firm up.
While it was firming up Stuart, Shane and Truly Scrumptious Lulu smoked cigars and had a small sweet sherry whilst watching Extreme makeover. Fat Boy Faggot, Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face and Trotter busied them selves in the kitchen, making sure the oven was on and wiping down the tops. Fing sat on the kitchen top and fiddled with the tubes of coloured icing and wondered how he would decorate his cookies.
Eventually Shane announced that the dough was ready and every one gathered to watch. Stuart rolled the dough while Shane gave instructions, then one by one, with cutters in their tiny paws, the pets came forward to cut out their cookies.
Trotter came first. Unfortunately for Trotter the pastry had been cut too thin and when he tried to take the cookie from the kitchen top to the tray, the head fell of and landed on Tutz head, where it stayed for the rest of the day, like a gingerbread Tam O'Shanter.
There were various accidents until the tray was full with all the pets cookies. Giggsey Girls Gingerbread woman had a lopsy arm, Lulu's Gingerbread man had a strangely contorted head.
Fing made a series of stars in which he cut smaller stars and filled them with crushed boiled sweets to make opaque windows.
I dont know if it was the sherry but rather tragically while everyone was chatting away and laughing the first tray of cookies were absolutely incinerated and came out black as night from the oven, the kitchen filled with an acrid smoke. Trotter stared in horrified disbelief at the charred remains of his headless gingerbread man, quietly smoking on the tray.
But we learned from this mistake and the next 3 trays of Gingerbread came out perfect.
The pets then got the tubes of icing and spent ages decorating their cookies, dipping them in chocolate, drizzling white icing across, drawing faces with the ready made icing in tubes.
Friday, December 08, 2006
The World Famous Pet Choir
You are cordially invited to the Royal Albert Hall on Weds 14th December
for an evening audience with
TrotterandFing and Friends
Tickets are £180, with no concessions for scabby students, we don't do cheap seats
All proceeds will be donated to an off licence near by.
Christmas is a time for sharing.
(And getting blind drunk)
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the Chubbiest Dog in the West was once employed by George Lucas in the film 'Return of the Jedi' in which she played a battle hardened Ewok.Sadly, there have been no further film roles for Lulu.
Theres only so much you can do when you're a foot tall, covered in hair, and cuter than a box full of kittens.
Idioms
You know when something is like, top dollar, good? On occaisions such as these people can be heard to say, 'The Dogs Bollocks'
Infact, I would say that Trotter is 'The Dogs Bollocks'.
I have decided that I do not wish to refer to my boy, Fing, as the 'Bollocks' however, and have decided that he really is, 'The Cats Whiskers'.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Advent Carnage
Trotter is very upset.
Someone very naughty indeed has opened every single window of his advent calender, eaten the chocolates, then closed the doors behind them.
Fing is consoling the poor poor distraught angel, with a paw on his shoulder he looks to the other pets to try and locate the chocolate thief.
Fat Boy Faggot reclines in the bath, 'Don't be stupid Dahhlliing', he purrs, 'Once on the lips, a lifetime on the hips'.
Lulu says, 'Don't be stupid! I'm too short to reach the kitchen top!'
Tutz says nothing at all as she hangs upside down from her scratchy pole pretending to be a fruit bat, obviously beyond reproach in her studied and complete madness.
Who does it leave?
Why! Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face!
Where is the most naughtiest of tinkers, the most troublesome of girls?
She is on top of the TV with a smug look on her slug like lips, the proverbial cat who had the cream, although in this instance, the cat who had 17 milk chocolate treats.
And to make it worse, she just doesn't care!
Bad, Bad, Giggsey Girl!
Fing gives her a steely eyed stare and warns that Father Christmas doe's not bring presents to the bad, only the good, and that he is certain that she will be on the list for a lump of coal.
But Giggsey Girl shrugs it off and lay's down in her favourite spot and dreams she is Willy Wonka and Lulu an Oumpa Lumpa.
'Don't worry Trotter', says Fing, 'It's probably a good job she ate them all anyway'
'How do you work that out?' cries Trotter!
'Well, remember the year that you ate all the Quality Street at Christmas and nearly killed yourself? Remember? We found you underneath the Christmas Tree holding onto your tummy and moaning, all covered in sparkly chocolate wrappers?'
Trotter, who was only a tiny baby at the time, had not remembered this at all and is secretly relieved that Gigg's had all the sweets.
The problem resolved Fing pours them all a glass of port and they sit down to watch 'The Nightmare Before Christmas' whilst tucking into some stilton and some lovely home made pickled onions.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Snob
Sometimes Fing wishes that he didn't live in a world full of heathans.
That he, and he alone, were not the only cultured animal in the house.
How on earth is one supposed to listen to the Archers with Trotter singing tunelessly, Tutz redesigning her scratchy pole, Fat Boy Faggot and Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face playing cheat loudly in the bath and Lulu playing drums in the kitchen?
Sometimes, he thinks that it is almost just too much to bear.
That he, and he alone, were not the only cultured animal in the house.
How on earth is one supposed to listen to the Archers with Trotter singing tunelessly, Tutz redesigning her scratchy pole, Fat Boy Faggot and Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face playing cheat loudly in the bath and Lulu playing drums in the kitchen?
Sometimes, he thinks that it is almost just too much to bear.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Tipple
Trotter was very excited when a large box arrived, delivered by a surly delivery man with no Christmas spirit what so ever.
He was, however, very disapointed to discover that the Christmas Hamper was full of neat spirits and that his box full of Bicardi Breezer's, Reef's, and other assorted AlcoPops had not been delivered.
It was at the point that a burly Lulu pushed Trotter out of the way, 'I think you'll find thats mine' she said, took a puff on her Cuban cigar and then made off with the Jack Daniels.
'I think you'll find thats mine' said Fing, who then snuck off with the baileys.
'Actually, i think that might be mine' said Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face, hugging the Southern Comfort to her chest.
'And if i'm not mistaken, I think that one must be mine' said Fat boy Faggot, licking his lips as he opens the Malibu.
'PRROOOT!', says Tutz, 'PPRRROOOOTTT', and makes off with the Pernod, as she is, and always will be, completely insane and not to be held responsible for her own actions.
Trotter stared into the empty box and wished his AlcoPops would arrive.
He was, however, very disapointed to discover that the Christmas Hamper was full of neat spirits and that his box full of Bicardi Breezer's, Reef's, and other assorted AlcoPops had not been delivered.
It was at the point that a burly Lulu pushed Trotter out of the way, 'I think you'll find thats mine' she said, took a puff on her Cuban cigar and then made off with the Jack Daniels.
'I think you'll find thats mine' said Fing, who then snuck off with the baileys.
'Actually, i think that might be mine' said Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face, hugging the Southern Comfort to her chest.
'And if i'm not mistaken, I think that one must be mine' said Fat boy Faggot, licking his lips as he opens the Malibu.
'PRROOOT!', says Tutz, 'PPRRROOOOTTT', and makes off with the Pernod, as she is, and always will be, completely insane and not to be held responsible for her own actions.
Trotter stared into the empty box and wished his AlcoPops would arrive.
Friday, December 01, 2006
World AIDS Day
I am finding it difficult to think of what to write as everything I say is normally so flippant.
AIDS, obviously, is not a subject for flippant remarks or jokes made in bad taste.
So, in that vein, all I will say is:
'To those that dont, Wear condoms you fucking idiots! Take responsibility for your own life and the lives of others!'
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Contemplation
It was with complete and utter delight that Fing happened to stumble across some Worcestershire Sauce flavour Wheat Chrunchies in a small newsagents on St Giles earlier.
He had quite forgotten they existed and was over the moon.
He stopped to consider Monster Munch, had they really been much larger than they are today, or was it just that his paws had got bigger?
He had quite forgotten they existed and was over the moon.
He stopped to consider Monster Munch, had they really been much larger than they are today, or was it just that his paws had got bigger?
Never take
Last night was horrible.
Trotter had some sort of seizure and didn't know who any of us were. He was frightened of us all and wouldn't come for a cuddle. He sat at the top of the stairs and wouldn't speak to anyone, even though Fing, Faggot and Fizzgigg tried their hardest by weaving their stupid slinky bodies around his and miaowing in his face.
It got so bad we wanted to take him to our vet, Mr Gore, but he advised us to leave him to his own devises and see how he was in the morning, 'He is, after all' he said 'a very unusual little dog'.
He didn't come to until this morning, after a night of shivering and unhappiness.
I sat and stroked him and suddenly he looked at me and it was like the mist was gone from his mind and he suddenly wagged his tail and grumbled at me then went to lick Faggot on the head.
A bit of a lesson never to take anything for granted I think.
Trotter had some sort of seizure and didn't know who any of us were. He was frightened of us all and wouldn't come for a cuddle. He sat at the top of the stairs and wouldn't speak to anyone, even though Fing, Faggot and Fizzgigg tried their hardest by weaving their stupid slinky bodies around his and miaowing in his face.
It got so bad we wanted to take him to our vet, Mr Gore, but he advised us to leave him to his own devises and see how he was in the morning, 'He is, after all' he said 'a very unusual little dog'.
He didn't come to until this morning, after a night of shivering and unhappiness.
I sat and stroked him and suddenly he looked at me and it was like the mist was gone from his mind and he suddenly wagged his tail and grumbled at me then went to lick Faggot on the head.
A bit of a lesson never to take anything for granted I think.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Quiet night out
As you are aware we live on a very noisy estate full of unexpected and unusual sounds, if it isn't the pets singing carols, or Andre making his penthouse kennel for Hercules, Uncle Ernie on his motorized wheelchair or Varne and I coming home drunk, then it's something else.
Sometimes, in fact a lot of the times, the noise can stem from youths who tend to loiter indiscriminately and clutter up our street corners. Having no set bed time, curfew, or a desire to wake up the next morning, they can be outside well past half past 9 most evenings.
Until recently the estate has put up with the rapping, shrieking and general noisiness of the youths, but not any longer.
Oh no, Mrs Warboise has snapped!
She has taken to leaving the house in her long white nightie and dressing gown and floating towards the indiscriminate youths with menaces in her eyes.
The indiscriminate youths, who may be young but are not foolish, have taken to scarpering with apologies tumbling from their mouths.
Rock on Mrs Warboise!
Sometimes, in fact a lot of the times, the noise can stem from youths who tend to loiter indiscriminately and clutter up our street corners. Having no set bed time, curfew, or a desire to wake up the next morning, they can be outside well past half past 9 most evenings.
Until recently the estate has put up with the rapping, shrieking and general noisiness of the youths, but not any longer.
Oh no, Mrs Warboise has snapped!
She has taken to leaving the house in her long white nightie and dressing gown and floating towards the indiscriminate youths with menaces in her eyes.
The indiscriminate youths, who may be young but are not foolish, have taken to scarpering with apologies tumbling from their mouths.
Rock on Mrs Warboise!
Quiet night in
'Silent Night Holy Night
All is Calm All is Bright,
Round yon virgin Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly Peace'
Sings Trotter, practising his solo piece for the Carol Concert from the top of the stairs.
'Silent Night Holy Night
Son of God Oh loves pure light
Radiant beams from thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace
Jesus Lord at Thy birth...Oh Jesus Lord at Thy birth'
He can hear a muted noise in the background which he takes to be applause so increases his volume for the final verse!
'Sleep
Sleep
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace'
Tragically it is not applause but an angry mob outside with pitchforks and burning effigy's who are shouting, 'HOW THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO SLEEP WITH THAT RACKET GOING ON?'
'Heathen's' sniffs Fing in disdain, peering out of the bathroom window.
All is Calm All is Bright,
Round yon virgin Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly Peace'
Sings Trotter, practising his solo piece for the Carol Concert from the top of the stairs.
'Silent Night Holy Night
Son of God Oh loves pure light
Radiant beams from thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace
Jesus Lord at Thy birth...Oh Jesus Lord at Thy birth'
He can hear a muted noise in the background which he takes to be applause so increases his volume for the final verse!
'Sleep
Sleep
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace'
Tragically it is not applause but an angry mob outside with pitchforks and burning effigy's who are shouting, 'HOW THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO SLEEP WITH THAT RACKET GOING ON?'
'Heathen's' sniffs Fing in disdain, peering out of the bathroom window.
Formal Apology
We at Trotter and Fing would like to make a formal apology to Rez, from Cuddesdon, who we have formally referred to as Res.
We did not intend to cause insult or injury by the misspelling and hope your viewing pleasure hasn't been impaired.
We did not intend to cause insult or injury by the misspelling and hope your viewing pleasure hasn't been impaired.
Friday, November 24, 2006
The Oracle at Delphi
Fing knows the meaning of everything, life, the universe, pork scratchings, everything.
If you look deep into his beautiful eyes you will find the answer. That or feel compelled to feed him.
It can work either way for me.
Today is the day that is
Lulu is guarding something in the bedroom. We don't know what and with every probability, she probably doesn't know either.
Faggot is laying in the bath on a towel that Marth puts there for him every morning.
Tutz is playing boules underneath the bed.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face is doing jury service in the crown court and is currently listening in on a very interesting fraud case. She has decided to find the man guilty as she finds his appearance very distasteful and is irritated by his ingratiating subservient manner.
Hercules is looking at his unfinished kennel with longing through the back door, it would be finished apart from the fact that some arsehole complained about the banging and a drilling in the dark and Andre has been forced to down tools.
At the pub Captain Jack and Lucas by Day (Duncan by Night) have a new exercise routine. They have a new treadmill and are taking it in turns to run whilst watching old Catherine Tate DVD's.
Tiny Margo has driven her Lamborghini to Biscester Village and is shopping for a new beaded collar and a satin jacket to keep out the cold.
Lou and Res are at Whittenham Clumps, just for a change, and are admiring the view of the Oxfordshire country side.
Ginge is asleep on his favourite blanket next to the attractive singing lobster that Uncle Ernie purchased for Varne from the Antique Market.
Trotter has made a comfy place for himself on the landing by dragging my dressing gown out of my bedroom and rouching it into an attractive heap by the bathroom door.
Fing, having no respect or care for the feeling of others, has pissed in it, and left it there to upset Trotter later.
Little bastard.
Faggot is laying in the bath on a towel that Marth puts there for him every morning.
Tutz is playing boules underneath the bed.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face is doing jury service in the crown court and is currently listening in on a very interesting fraud case. She has decided to find the man guilty as she finds his appearance very distasteful and is irritated by his ingratiating subservient manner.
Hercules is looking at his unfinished kennel with longing through the back door, it would be finished apart from the fact that some arsehole complained about the banging and a drilling in the dark and Andre has been forced to down tools.
At the pub Captain Jack and Lucas by Day (Duncan by Night) have a new exercise routine. They have a new treadmill and are taking it in turns to run whilst watching old Catherine Tate DVD's.
Tiny Margo has driven her Lamborghini to Biscester Village and is shopping for a new beaded collar and a satin jacket to keep out the cold.
Lou and Res are at Whittenham Clumps, just for a change, and are admiring the view of the Oxfordshire country side.
Ginge is asleep on his favourite blanket next to the attractive singing lobster that Uncle Ernie purchased for Varne from the Antique Market.
Trotter has made a comfy place for himself on the landing by dragging my dressing gown out of my bedroom and rouching it into an attractive heap by the bathroom door.
Fing, having no respect or care for the feeling of others, has pissed in it, and left it there to upset Trotter later.
Little bastard.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Together
We go together like
rama lama lama
ke ding a de dinga a dong
remembered for ever like
shoo bop shoo wadda wadda yipitty boom de boom
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang
shoo-bop
That's the way it should be
Wha oooh yeah!
We're one of a kind
Like dip di-dip di-dip
Doo-bop a doo-bee doo
Our names are signed
Boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy
boog-e-dy
Shoo-by doo-wop she-bop
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang
shoo-bop
We'll always be like one
Wa-wa-wa-waaa!
Ra-ma la-ma la-ma ka ding a da ding de dong
Shoo-bop sha wad-da wad-da yipp-it-y boom de boom
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang shoo-bop
Dip da-dip da-dip doo-wop da doo-bee doo
Boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-ed-y
Shoo-by doo-wop she-bop
Sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na yip-pit-y boom de boom
Ra-ma la-ma la-ma ka ding-a de ding de dong
Shoo-bop sha wad-da wad-da yipp-it-y boom de boom
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang shoo-bop
Dip da-dip da-dip doo-wop da doo-bee doo
Boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy
shoo-by doo-wop she-bop
Sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na yip-pit-ty boom de boom
A wop ba-ba lu-mop
A wop bam boom
rama lama lama
ke ding a de dinga a dong
remembered for ever like
shoo bop shoo wadda wadda yipitty boom de boom
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang
shoo-bop
That's the way it should be
Wha oooh yeah!
We're one of a kind
Like dip di-dip di-dip
Doo-bop a doo-bee doo
Our names are signed
Boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy
boog-e-dy
Shoo-by doo-wop she-bop
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang
shoo-bop
We'll always be like one
Wa-wa-wa-waaa!
Ra-ma la-ma la-ma ka ding a da ding de dong
Shoo-bop sha wad-da wad-da yipp-it-y boom de boom
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang shoo-bop
Dip da-dip da-dip doo-wop da doo-bee doo
Boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-ed-y
Shoo-by doo-wop she-bop
Sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na yip-pit-y boom de boom
Ra-ma la-ma la-ma ka ding-a de ding de dong
Shoo-bop sha wad-da wad-da yipp-it-y boom de boom
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang shoo-bop
Dip da-dip da-dip doo-wop da doo-bee doo
Boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy
shoo-by doo-wop she-bop
Sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na yip-pit-ty boom de boom
A wop ba-ba lu-mop
A wop bam boom
28 days, later
The pets had an enormously exciting shopping spree and loaded up the trolley with boxes of Turkish delight, sets of smellies from Boots, slipper socks and all the other weird shit that you can only find at Christmas and no one really needs.
They decided that a little pat on the back was the order of the day so popped into HaHa and accidentally discovered that all bottles of wine and most cocktails were a 3rd off which was a recipe for disaster to be fair.
They staggered home, 2 hours later, having completely forgotten they were supposed to be buying a Chinese for everyone. When they did, eventually get home and looked at all they had bought, they realised it really wasn't all that much after all and were left feeling slightly tarnished by the whole affair.
They decided that a little pat on the back was the order of the day so popped into HaHa and accidentally discovered that all bottles of wine and most cocktails were a 3rd off which was a recipe for disaster to be fair.
They staggered home, 2 hours later, having completely forgotten they were supposed to be buying a Chinese for everyone. When they did, eventually get home and looked at all they had bought, they realised it really wasn't all that much after all and were left feeling slightly tarnished by the whole affair.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
28 days before
Fing is taking the other pets Christmas Shopping today. The other pets are very very excited.
Trotter is stood expectantly by the front door in his favourite woolly scarf and hat, wagging his tail. Tutz and Giggsey are in the shopping trolley, Faggot has a cashmere scarf and a Prada bag over one shoulder and Lulu is bringing up the rear in a lovely tartan jacket.
Fing has everyone's pocket money firmly in his grasp and they set off towards Primark singing the Pogues 'Fairytale', can you hear them?
'You scumbag, you maggot, you cheap lousy faggot' sing the cats in purrrfect harmony
'Happy Christmas you arse, I pray god it's your last!!!!' sing the dogs.
Oh, how we love Christmas
Trotter is stood expectantly by the front door in his favourite woolly scarf and hat, wagging his tail. Tutz and Giggsey are in the shopping trolley, Faggot has a cashmere scarf and a Prada bag over one shoulder and Lulu is bringing up the rear in a lovely tartan jacket.
Fing has everyone's pocket money firmly in his grasp and they set off towards Primark singing the Pogues 'Fairytale', can you hear them?
'You scumbag, you maggot, you cheap lousy faggot' sing the cats in purrrfect harmony
'Happy Christmas you arse, I pray god it's your last!!!!' sing the dogs.
Oh, how we love Christmas
Monday, November 20, 2006
Sting!
Its awful having a great big itchy sneeze up your nose that just wont go away.
Unfortunately Captain Jack happened to mention this aloud while Lucas by day (Duncan by Night) was having a lucid moment.
'I have heard', say Lucas by day (Duncan by night) that if you have a nasty itchy sneeze up your nose, that sniffing black pepper will help it to come out', then became distracted by absolutelty nothing at all and went to wag his tail whilst standing with his head to one side, looking expectantly into the corner of the room.
Why Captain Jack decided to listen to the words of of a dog who spends the best part of his day chasing shadows and looking at walls we will never know.
Poor Captain Jack.
FISH
Did you know that every year in December European Ministers meet to try and decide who can fish what from where, they make these decisions despite warnings from the scientific community that fishing should be suspended for fish stocks to recover.
For the past five years the International Council for the Exploration of the Sea (ICES) have advised that no cod should be fished from UK waters, so that populations have a chance to recover.
But since this advice was first issued in 2001, 437,000 tonnes of cod have been taken from the North Sea alone, leaving the population at one third the minimum safe level.
Scandalously, every year tens of thousands of tonnes of fish are thrown back into the sea, dead or dying, by fisherman targeting other fish species.
Over half of North Sea cod are simply discarded overboard because they are too small.
And it's not just cod. Numbers of adult fish across many of Europe's fish stocks are just 10% of what they were 30 years ago.*
(of course in Iceland, the whales are to blame for the decrease in the fish stock, it has nothing what so ever to do with the idiot fishermen at all, but I digress)
So anyway - please can you log on to
http://wwf.org.uk/stopoverfishing
And take a couple of minutes to send an email to the secretary of state asking him, politely, to put his fucking foot down and do not give in the the whinging, whining fishermen and do something about this.
Before its too late.
*Info from the WWF website
For the past five years the International Council for the Exploration of the Sea (ICES) have advised that no cod should be fished from UK waters, so that populations have a chance to recover.
But since this advice was first issued in 2001, 437,000 tonnes of cod have been taken from the North Sea alone, leaving the population at one third the minimum safe level.
Scandalously, every year tens of thousands of tonnes of fish are thrown back into the sea, dead or dying, by fisherman targeting other fish species.
Over half of North Sea cod are simply discarded overboard because they are too small.
And it's not just cod. Numbers of adult fish across many of Europe's fish stocks are just 10% of what they were 30 years ago.*
(of course in Iceland, the whales are to blame for the decrease in the fish stock, it has nothing what so ever to do with the idiot fishermen at all, but I digress)
So anyway - please can you log on to
http://wwf.org.uk/stopoverfishing
And take a couple of minutes to send an email to the secretary of state asking him, politely, to put his fucking foot down and do not give in the the whinging, whining fishermen and do something about this.
Before its too late.
*Info from the WWF website
Friday, November 17, 2006
Beyond Measure
People ask me how much I love Fing,
'How much do you love Fing?', they say
I love Fing so much, I reply, that when he pisses into my beautiful, BEAUTIFUL, brand new red shoes that I laugh, wash them, then put them on the shelves like some random ornaments to dry, and when I still can't get the smell out I borrow Milan's cedar shoe tree's and force them into my ruby slippers to try to get the smell out and even though nothing has worked and the piss has taken some of the coulour out, becuase I love them so much, I keep them on top of my wardrobe with the shoe tree's in in the vain, stupid hope that one day, one day, I will be able to wear them again.
Thats one fuck of a lot of love my friends.
'How much do you love Fing?', they say
I love Fing so much, I reply, that when he pisses into my beautiful, BEAUTIFUL, brand new red shoes that I laugh, wash them, then put them on the shelves like some random ornaments to dry, and when I still can't get the smell out I borrow Milan's cedar shoe tree's and force them into my ruby slippers to try to get the smell out and even though nothing has worked and the piss has taken some of the coulour out, becuase I love them so much, I keep them on top of my wardrobe with the shoe tree's in in the vain, stupid hope that one day, one day, I will be able to wear them again.
Thats one fuck of a lot of love my friends.
Unmeasurable
Some people have asked me how much I love Trotter.
'How much do you love Trotter?' they say.
I love him so much, I reply, that I do not mind when he sits on my bare feet and his little hairy testicles nestle against my skin.
Thats a lot of love my friends.
'How much do you love Trotter?' they say.
I love him so much, I reply, that I do not mind when he sits on my bare feet and his little hairy testicles nestle against my skin.
Thats a lot of love my friends.
Social Housing
There have been bangings on the estate of late, in the darkness.
Bangings, and drillings and sawing, all under cover of the night.
We all wondered what it could be that was causing the bang and drill and complained about the noisiness of the entire affair, we stood in our windows with nosy neighbour syndrome and twitched our nets in a dissatisfied way.
But last night all was revealed as Andre finally proudly uncovered Hercules new delux hand built kennel to stunned estate.
The kennel is 6feet tall and then four by four.It has a raised floor with underfloor heating, it has satelite TV and a jacuzzi for Hercules bitches (when he gets older of course).
Martha was so impressed by the kennel she asked Andre if there was any possibility that she could use it as her retirement bungalow, but I don't think Hercules will want to share.
Bangings, and drillings and sawing, all under cover of the night.
We all wondered what it could be that was causing the bang and drill and complained about the noisiness of the entire affair, we stood in our windows with nosy neighbour syndrome and twitched our nets in a dissatisfied way.
But last night all was revealed as Andre finally proudly uncovered Hercules new delux hand built kennel to stunned estate.
The kennel is 6feet tall and then four by four.It has a raised floor with underfloor heating, it has satelite TV and a jacuzzi for Hercules bitches (when he gets older of course).
Martha was so impressed by the kennel she asked Andre if there was any possibility that she could use it as her retirement bungalow, but I don't think Hercules will want to share.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Still
Trotter had a break from the old routine and tried calmness last night.
He stood quietly and looked at us.
He sat with inner peace and meditated.
He listened to whale songs and considered the power of crystals.
At bedtime he was tranquil and didn't bark at the doors.
All in all it was rather unsettling and we kept on asking if he was ok, as it was decidedly peculiar, especially if you consider that he has been on his hot line to the devil for the last week.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Why?
Have I told you that Fing has taken to waking me up just before 6am every morning?
I can only wonder at his motives and reasons.
Then, If I knew the reasons and motives behind all his odd behavioural patterns I could probably become a famous cat psychologist and travel the world persuading illmanned and unrepentant cats to behave in a seemly and pleasant manner.
Of course, the other option is that he's an artifact of an alien intelligence sent here to test me.
If so the aliens must think the worlds a totally fucked up place.
I can only wonder at his motives and reasons.
Then, If I knew the reasons and motives behind all his odd behavioural patterns I could probably become a famous cat psychologist and travel the world persuading illmanned and unrepentant cats to behave in a seemly and pleasant manner.
Of course, the other option is that he's an artifact of an alien intelligence sent here to test me.
If so the aliens must think the worlds a totally fucked up place.
Time and a place
Dogs do to not like it when humans play ball games without them.
There are places in the world where Dogs have become quite militant about this and have taken to forcing their way into pool halls and clambering onto the pool table.
Once on the table they like to show their dissatisfaction by barking at would be competitors and by licking their testicles in an openly defiant manner.
Dark or Light?
There is a real Christmas Spirit in the house and it's not the ghost of Christmas Past, Oh No!
In the kitchen Martha is furiously chopping dried fruits and making chutney in a frenzy, a large pot of simmering slop oozes over the top and the whole house smells of cloves and cinnamon.
In the sitting room the pets are practising their carols, they will be performing at the Royal Albert Hall on the 14Th December. Tickets are already sold out as they are the 'World Famous Preachers Lane Pet Choir' after all. Today they are practising the Calypso Carol but unfortunately Trotter keeps on getting the lyrics wrong,
'Concentrate Trotter!' snaps an irritated Fing, 'Its 'See him a lying on a bed of straw, a drafty stable with an open door, Mary cradling the babe she bore, the prince of glory is his name'
'But the prince of darkness sounds much more fun', sulks Trotter.
In the kitchen Martha is furiously chopping dried fruits and making chutney in a frenzy, a large pot of simmering slop oozes over the top and the whole house smells of cloves and cinnamon.
In the sitting room the pets are practising their carols, they will be performing at the Royal Albert Hall on the 14Th December. Tickets are already sold out as they are the 'World Famous Preachers Lane Pet Choir' after all. Today they are practising the Calypso Carol but unfortunately Trotter keeps on getting the lyrics wrong,
'Concentrate Trotter!' snaps an irritated Fing, 'Its 'See him a lying on a bed of straw, a drafty stable with an open door, Mary cradling the babe she bore, the prince of glory is his name'
'But the prince of darkness sounds much more fun', sulks Trotter.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Do Androids dream of Electric Cats?
Tutz lies asleep on top of the NTL box, warm and cozy, dreaming psychedelic dreams of pandemonium and chaos.
Inside her tiny mind she floats in big multicoloured bubbles over unusual landscapes made of giant scratchy poles and lollipops.
She sees giant bumblebees and dragon flies, blamange in the shape of pink rabbits, she sees drums and briefly, Snoop Dog Dog floats by on a magic carpet.
Suddenly she is tap dancing in ruby slippers, then belly dancing next to a blue elephant wearing a sequined dress, then she is wind surfing in the lake district.
She wakes up slowly and stretches, opens her eyes and finds Trotter standing looking at her.
Some things are just as insane awake as when you are dreaming.
Inside her tiny mind she floats in big multicoloured bubbles over unusual landscapes made of giant scratchy poles and lollipops.
She sees giant bumblebees and dragon flies, blamange in the shape of pink rabbits, she sees drums and briefly, Snoop Dog Dog floats by on a magic carpet.
Suddenly she is tap dancing in ruby slippers, then belly dancing next to a blue elephant wearing a sequined dress, then she is wind surfing in the lake district.
She wakes up slowly and stretches, opens her eyes and finds Trotter standing looking at her.
Some things are just as insane awake as when you are dreaming.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
War
In the Second World War it is estimated that 60 million people died, or which 6 million were Jews.
The Allied forces fought for 6 years in order to stop fascism taking over the world, in order that we might have freedom of speech, freedom of expression, freedom of religion. Freedom to be the people that we want to be.
From the Allied forces the United kingdom lost 306213 servicemen, Australia 29395, Canada 39319, China 1324516, India 36092, New Zealand 12612, The United States 297723 and the former Soviet Union 13 million.
Today is the day that we remember the sacrifice of the men and women of the armed services, who have no say in which battles they will fight, in which one they will be wounded or in which they might die.
We at Trotter and Fing wear our poppies with pride.
The Allied forces fought for 6 years in order to stop fascism taking over the world, in order that we might have freedom of speech, freedom of expression, freedom of religion. Freedom to be the people that we want to be.
From the Allied forces the United kingdom lost 306213 servicemen, Australia 29395, Canada 39319, China 1324516, India 36092, New Zealand 12612, The United States 297723 and the former Soviet Union 13 million.
Today is the day that we remember the sacrifice of the men and women of the armed services, who have no say in which battles they will fight, in which one they will be wounded or in which they might die.
We at Trotter and Fing wear our poppies with pride.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Joy
'God rest ye Merry Gentleman' sings Trotter from the top of the stairs, 'May nothing you dismayyyyyyyyy',
'Remember Christ our saviour was born on Christmas day' Sings Giggsey Girl the stupid Slug face from on top of the TV,
'To save our souls from Satan's power' Sings Lulu from the kitchen doorway,
'When we were gone astray' sings Fat Boy Faggot from the bathroom,
'PPPRRROOOT' harmonises Tutz from the bedroom on her scratchy pole,
'OH TIDINGS OF COMFORT AND JOY', They all sing together as Fing conducts, waving a tiny baton in the hallway, 'Comfort and Joy, OHHH TIDINGS OF COMFORT AND JOYYYYYY!!!'
When you're part of the world famous Preachers Lane Pet Choir you've got to practise early!
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Industrious
Fing has has a very busy night.
Once again he got into the food cupboard and hooked out the dog Iams, leaving a cascade on the floor. This time we have an interesting twist as Trotter went downstairs to see what the noise was and bought the bag of Iams back to bed for a midnight feast.
The small grainy nuggets that he missed were to be found by Martha when she woke up, embedded in the backs of her legs and up her nose.
'FING!' she cried in despair.
But Fing had remained in the cupboard, where with sheer brute force and bloody ignorance, had forced the lid off the tupperwear container filled with cat biscuits and had gorged until he was almost as fat as a boa constrictor full of sheep.
So fat that he fell asleep and stayed in the cupboard where Martha found him by accident when she went in for a tea bag.
'FING!' she screamed.
Sometimes I wonder what we have done to deserve all of this naughtiness.
Hasn't that cat always had everything he always wanted?
Manicures and peticures, dancing lessons and trips to Vienna?
He did want a copy of the National Dictionary of the National Biography but we had to put our feet down somewhere.
Once again he got into the food cupboard and hooked out the dog Iams, leaving a cascade on the floor. This time we have an interesting twist as Trotter went downstairs to see what the noise was and bought the bag of Iams back to bed for a midnight feast.
The small grainy nuggets that he missed were to be found by Martha when she woke up, embedded in the backs of her legs and up her nose.
'FING!' she cried in despair.
But Fing had remained in the cupboard, where with sheer brute force and bloody ignorance, had forced the lid off the tupperwear container filled with cat biscuits and had gorged until he was almost as fat as a boa constrictor full of sheep.
So fat that he fell asleep and stayed in the cupboard where Martha found him by accident when she went in for a tea bag.
'FING!' she screamed.
Sometimes I wonder what we have done to deserve all of this naughtiness.
Hasn't that cat always had everything he always wanted?
Manicures and peticures, dancing lessons and trips to Vienna?
He did want a copy of the National Dictionary of the National Biography but we had to put our feet down somewhere.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Ok Corral
'Did you know' Said Trotter to Fing, ' That on this day in 1887, Doc Holliday died?'
'who was Doc Holliday?' asks Fing in surprise,
'Why, ' says Trotter, 'Doc Holliday was a gentleman sir'
'who was Doc Holliday?' asks Fing in surprise,
'Why, ' says Trotter, 'Doc Holliday was a gentleman sir'
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
3 days
Its been a few days of Uppers, Downers and all arounders to be honest.
Saturday dawned cold and bright and found Trotter and Fing visiting a poorly Shane in Hospital. They sat on his bed and made him laugh, they pushed him around in a wheelchair but were forced to stop for fear it might induce vomiting. They then sat and watched the South Park firework display and 'ooohhhhhh'd' and 'aaahhhhhh'd' in all the appropriate places. They popped into the pub on the way home and ended up going clubbing at Cloud 9 before returning home and collapsing exhausted.
On Sunday Martha noticed one of the goldfish swimming upside down in the pond and decided that he must immediately be removed and placed in a bright orange bucket on the draining board. With Stuarts help she dismantled a pump and placed it in the bucket, which kind of created a Jacuzzi effect and left the poor fish hurtling around the bucket like he was caught in some hideous 100 miles an hour whirlpool. I managed to persuade Martha that this may be a little strong, so she switched it off and went and got Asia. Asia, it transpires, is the local authority on goldfish and came bearing swim bladder medicine, a smaller pump, and portents of doom. We would, she advised, best not get our hopes up, dashed some medicine in the bucket and left us all feeling rather pessimistic as we stared at the goldfish, upside down and still revolving in his bucket.
Later that night an assortment of youths landed on the estate from an alternate, hoody, reality and let fireworks off just outside Varne's. Martha went out full of concern for Hercules, but the Youths told her to Fuck off, then lit some squibs in open defiance. The fireworks were not well received by Lulu or Tutz. Tutz spent the entire evening in the airing cupboard while Lulu tried to drown out the fireworks by barking as loudly as she could.
Monday found the goldfish the right way up but with nose pressed against the pump like an oxygen junkie. We borrowed a tank from Authority Asia, and popped him in there instead, where he took to sucking pebbles and sudden bursts of speed.
Much later Fing and I went to bed where we started to watch Braveheart. I had forgotten Fings aversion to the Scottish, and so was a little surprised when he got off his pillow and went for a sleep in the airing cupboard. Sometime later there was a rattling from downstairs. Fing, bored of the airing cupboard, had gone downstairs, opened the cupboard and deliberately tipped the dog Iams all over the floor. Not content with this he also opened all the other cupboard doors to see if there was any more mischief to be had, none found he came back upstairs and stared at me with a steely glare until I was forced to switch off Mel Gibheart and lay down and give him a cuddle.
Today it is Tuesday and I don't know what the pets are up too. I would imagine that most of the cats are asleep, Trotter will be sat at the bottom off the stairs waiting for Martha to come home and Lulu will be watching a crap film on channel 5, or looking for new cake recipe's or some such jazz.
Saturday dawned cold and bright and found Trotter and Fing visiting a poorly Shane in Hospital. They sat on his bed and made him laugh, they pushed him around in a wheelchair but were forced to stop for fear it might induce vomiting. They then sat and watched the South Park firework display and 'ooohhhhhh'd' and 'aaahhhhhh'd' in all the appropriate places. They popped into the pub on the way home and ended up going clubbing at Cloud 9 before returning home and collapsing exhausted.
On Sunday Martha noticed one of the goldfish swimming upside down in the pond and decided that he must immediately be removed and placed in a bright orange bucket on the draining board. With Stuarts help she dismantled a pump and placed it in the bucket, which kind of created a Jacuzzi effect and left the poor fish hurtling around the bucket like he was caught in some hideous 100 miles an hour whirlpool. I managed to persuade Martha that this may be a little strong, so she switched it off and went and got Asia. Asia, it transpires, is the local authority on goldfish and came bearing swim bladder medicine, a smaller pump, and portents of doom. We would, she advised, best not get our hopes up, dashed some medicine in the bucket and left us all feeling rather pessimistic as we stared at the goldfish, upside down and still revolving in his bucket.
Later that night an assortment of youths landed on the estate from an alternate, hoody, reality and let fireworks off just outside Varne's. Martha went out full of concern for Hercules, but the Youths told her to Fuck off, then lit some squibs in open defiance. The fireworks were not well received by Lulu or Tutz. Tutz spent the entire evening in the airing cupboard while Lulu tried to drown out the fireworks by barking as loudly as she could.
Monday found the goldfish the right way up but with nose pressed against the pump like an oxygen junkie. We borrowed a tank from Authority Asia, and popped him in there instead, where he took to sucking pebbles and sudden bursts of speed.
Much later Fing and I went to bed where we started to watch Braveheart. I had forgotten Fings aversion to the Scottish, and so was a little surprised when he got off his pillow and went for a sleep in the airing cupboard. Sometime later there was a rattling from downstairs. Fing, bored of the airing cupboard, had gone downstairs, opened the cupboard and deliberately tipped the dog Iams all over the floor. Not content with this he also opened all the other cupboard doors to see if there was any more mischief to be had, none found he came back upstairs and stared at me with a steely glare until I was forced to switch off Mel Gibheart and lay down and give him a cuddle.
Today it is Tuesday and I don't know what the pets are up too. I would imagine that most of the cats are asleep, Trotter will be sat at the bottom off the stairs waiting for Martha to come home and Lulu will be watching a crap film on channel 5, or looking for new cake recipe's or some such jazz.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Grim
The news this week has been grim indeed.
No fish in the worlds oceans within the next 40 years.
The worlds oceans to rise, displacing 40 million people.
No water to drink.
All the worlds animals will die.
Will it make a difference if you recycle? Will it matter if you remember to switch off all your electrical appliances when you are not using them?
It will, but probably not in your lifetime.
I don't have any children, but I have a niece and I would like her to grow up in a world where there are Polar Bears and Penguins, Gorillas and Chimpanzee's, Giraffes and Hyena's, Whales and Dolphins. In a World where people are not warring over water or where millions of people have no where to live.
So, if all of us just do one thing.
Switch off the plugs, recycle empty bottles, if all of us did one thing then maybe there will be a beautiful world left behind for our children, whether they be son's or daughter's, niece's or nephew's, God Children or the Children next door.
We at TrotterandFing are going to stop eating fish from non-sustainable sources.
Remember, Cod made us in his own image.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Percy Thrower
'PPRRROOOTTTT!!!' She says! 'PPRRROOOTTTTT'! Yes, I'm afraid that teeny, tiny, insane Tutz has escaped, unsupervised, into the garden.
She stands beside the metal cat and pretends to be unnoticed.
She watches Selby the squirrel hide some nuts in the rubbish heap from her watching place on top of the gazebo, then after he has gone, digs them up and hides them elsewhere.
She sits by the side of the pond and watches the fish with a professionally disinterested eye, then dips an idle paw into the water on the offchance that a fish will be stupid enough not to notice her enourmous orange eyes, millometres away from the water, peering in. Unfortunately for Tutz, all the fish are member's of Mensa, and are discussing philosophy with the fresh water mussels who live in the weed at the bottom of the pond.
No fun there she thinks and sits on top of the rubbish heap watching the world go by.
She practises some bunny hops, she persuades Selby to play hopscotch, she sleeps for a while in the sunny place underneath the bench by the window.
She 'ppprrroootttts' to herself softly as she potters around in the garden, and if she is feeling brave, the ground beneath Thelma's bush that lays just outside the fence. But she doesn't go too far in case the mean stripy cat that lives across the way spots her and steals her pocket money. She hates the stripy cat.
When she is exhausted of the day she sits on top of the trellis and waits for someone to come home so that she can play her favourite game of all, pretending that she wants to be let in. She sits and waits, as patient as the Sphinx.
She stands beside the metal cat and pretends to be unnoticed.
She watches Selby the squirrel hide some nuts in the rubbish heap from her watching place on top of the gazebo, then after he has gone, digs them up and hides them elsewhere.
She sits by the side of the pond and watches the fish with a professionally disinterested eye, then dips an idle paw into the water on the offchance that a fish will be stupid enough not to notice her enourmous orange eyes, millometres away from the water, peering in. Unfortunately for Tutz, all the fish are member's of Mensa, and are discussing philosophy with the fresh water mussels who live in the weed at the bottom of the pond.
No fun there she thinks and sits on top of the rubbish heap watching the world go by.
She practises some bunny hops, she persuades Selby to play hopscotch, she sleeps for a while in the sunny place underneath the bench by the window.
She 'ppprrroootttts' to herself softly as she potters around in the garden, and if she is feeling brave, the ground beneath Thelma's bush that lays just outside the fence. But she doesn't go too far in case the mean stripy cat that lives across the way spots her and steals her pocket money. She hates the stripy cat.
When she is exhausted of the day she sits on top of the trellis and waits for someone to come home so that she can play her favourite game of all, pretending that she wants to be let in. She sits and waits, as patient as the Sphinx.
Why?
I was lucky the other day, in so much that when I picked up my umbrella, which had been left open and upside down by the side of the mop bucket by Stuart the night before, that I happened to notice a small spillage of urine to the side.
Had I of just whisked it up over my head and opened it I would have been showered with Trotters urine, but as I say, I was lucky this time.
Unlike the time that Martha's waterproof jacket was lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs and I grabbed it intending to hang it up and got covered from head to toe by the pool of cats pee that had been nestleing unnoticed on top of it.
That time I stood there for a moment, as the pee dripped off the end of my nose and wondered what, exactly, i'd done to deserve this life.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Mines a chocolate eyeball
There was great excitement as the Pets prepared for Halloween, the biscuits were baked, the pumpkins carved and filled with candles and the Trick or Treat? sweets all ready in the bowl.
Fing had agreed that he would stay at home and dispense the sweets so that the others could go out in fancy dress.
Tutz was dressed as a tiny pumpkin, grey face and big yellow eyes staring out for underneath a little orange and green bonnet.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest Dog in the West, was dressed as a spider, with 4 extra legs poking out the side.
Trotter, of course, was DRACULE!!! and had his favourite cape and false vampire teeth in.
Fat Boy Faggot was dressed as a zombie and had covered himself in face paints and was a rather unattractive mottled green and grey.
Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug face has wrapped herself in lengths and lengths of bandages and was a Mummy.
And so they went out and knocked on doors and shouted 'TRICK OR TREAT' when people opened the doors, they said 'Thank you very much' when they were given sweets then raced on to the next house full of high spirits and happiness.
At home Fing endured the constant knocking and the shouts of 'TRICK OR TREAT!' secure in the knowledge that every treat was in fact a trick, as he had pissed in the biscuit mixture when Lulu wasn't watching, because, after all, that's just the sort of bastard that he is.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Happy Happy Halloween!
There is an air of great excitement in the house as the Pets prepare for Halloween.
Tutz and Giggsey Girl, the stupid slug face are carving pumpkins. Tutz's pumpkin is elaborately carved into a series of witches on broomsticks, Giggsey's is a traditional leering gap toothed smiling face.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west, is baking cookies in the shape of bats.
Fat Boy Faggot is preparing bags of sweets for the trick or treaters, and long chains of popcorn on string to hang around the house.
Trotter is putting up his own stylishly designed 'Trotwear' decorations, which look like they have been created by a mad axeman and are all a bit unsettling, avant garde, and a bit harsh upon the eye. Trotter hopes that all the small children will be suitably impressed by them, but the other pets can't help but think that they are so discordant they may bring on a brain hemorrage.
Fing would like to wish everyone a very Happy Samhain, and wishes you all the best for the New Year.
Friends from around the world
This is a Kinjkajou called Bob who lives deep in the South American rainforest.
He works as an insurance salesman by day and at night can be found forraging for flowers, nuts and berries for his family of 3.
This is his son, Iscariot.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Irrational
Trotter is lying on the sofa in a big pile of cushions, his bandaged head is throbbing and he has an ice pack on it.
The rest of the pets are all stood, shame faced, in the hallway as a very stern Fing tells them off for their naughtiness.
'We didn't know he would fall off', sulks Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face.
'HE HAS BRAIN DAMAGE AND IS BLIND IN ONE EYE, HOW COULD HE STAY ON?' shouts an irate Fing.
The rest of the pets are all stood, shame faced, in the hallway as a very stern Fing tells them off for their naughtiness.
'We didn't know he would fall off', sulks Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face.
'HE HAS BRAIN DAMAGE AND IS BLIND IN ONE EYE, HOW COULD HE STAY ON?' shouts an irate Fing.
Sting
Fing is now in the kitchen wrapping a large white bandage around Trotters head.
The rest of the pets are hiding in case they get in trouble.
Mid Morning
Fing is having brunch.
He is sitting at the table eating a smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel, he has a cup of freshly ground coffee and is reading the morning papers.
Meanwhile, Giggsey Girl, the stupid slug face, is trying to teach Trotter how to walk the tight-rope in the kitchen while the other pets cheer from the hall.
'are you sure this is safe?' ask's Trotter from the side
'100%' says Giggsey Girl, the stupid slug face.
Morning Neighbour
Fing has made all the pets their favourite breakfast's.
For Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west, he has made waffles and smothered them in maple syrup and whipped cream. As a side he has provided a samll fruit salad but doubts it will be eaten.
Trotter is having weetabix with warm milk.
Giggsey Girl, the stupid slug face is having wholemeal bread with Philadelphia and marmite on it, after this she will have a mullerlite and possibly a banana.
Fat Boy Faggot is tackling with some museli and is in the bathroom, reading the independent.
Tutz is on her scratchy pole eating a full English breakfast, comprised of bacon, sausages, black pudding, fried egg, beans, tomatoes and fried bread. Being insane 24/7 uses up quite a lot of energy I'll have you know.
Fing himself does not take breakfast, he prefers a strong black coffee and will have a little something at brunch.
For Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west, he has made waffles and smothered them in maple syrup and whipped cream. As a side he has provided a samll fruit salad but doubts it will be eaten.
Trotter is having weetabix with warm milk.
Giggsey Girl, the stupid slug face is having wholemeal bread with Philadelphia and marmite on it, after this she will have a mullerlite and possibly a banana.
Fat Boy Faggot is tackling with some museli and is in the bathroom, reading the independent.
Tutz is on her scratchy pole eating a full English breakfast, comprised of bacon, sausages, black pudding, fried egg, beans, tomatoes and fried bread. Being insane 24/7 uses up quite a lot of energy I'll have you know.
Fing himself does not take breakfast, he prefers a strong black coffee and will have a little something at brunch.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
42
What is Trotter thinking about?
Is he thinking about quantum physics?
No, he is not.
Is he thinking about the Bermuda triangle and the unexplained disappearance of boats, ships and planes?
No, he is not.
Is he thinking about why Neon flickers?
No, I'm afraid not.
Trotter is thinking about becoming a stuntman.
He wants to drive cars dangerously, and jump from tall buildings in a parachute! He wants to ride horse's bareback and be blown out of cannons and beat the land speed record and whizz around in speedboats.
Failing that he might go for a poo in Chengi's garden.
He just can't decide.
New Horizons
Like his companion, Captain Jack, Lucas by day (Duncan by night) likes to utilise the furniture in unusual ways.
Sometimes he practises perching precariously like a pterodactyl on the poof.
Shiny boots of Leather
Sometimes, If I am terribly bored, I like to polish the cats with bee's wax.
As you can see they come up quite a treat.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Reality show
Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face is sometimes so exhausted that she has to lay on top of the TV and try to watch it upside down.
Its no wonder that she's all a bit cross eyed and fucked in the head really, is it?
Sleepy head
Sometimes Trotter gets bored of being a maniac and likes to rest his weary bones.
He wishes sometimes that he wasn't so jam packed, full, of naughtiness, because perhaps then it wouldn't escape so often and get him into trouble.
He wishes he didn't feel compelled to bark at the shopping trolley.
He can only dream of not being over taken by a mad desire to hump cushions.
A forlorn hope that he didn't have to shred standard lamps and pull up bushes surfaces briefly beofre sinking without a trace.
Oh, its hard being Trotter.
Poor Trotter.
Guest Pet of The Week - Milly
MillyLikes: Chewing small bits of wood, lazing by the fire and eating Honey Roast Glazed Hams - whole.
Dislikes: Being wet and Anne Robinson
Age: Unknown
Distinguishing features: Small lump of black fluff with dangerously rabid eyes
Habits and Problem Behaviours: Prone to backcombing her hair and singing along to Tina Turner, hogging the fire and belching in front of guest's.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Mothers gone to
And while i'm ranting, what the bloody hell is going on in Iceland?
Apparently its Ok to hunt critically endangered animals- lets look at the dictionary definition of that shall we?
An endangered animal is one that 'is present in such small numbers that it is at risk of extinction'
Therefore a 'Critically endangered animal' is an animal that faces an extremely high risk of extinction in the immediate future.
WAY TO GO ICELAND! Lets kill off an entire species so your stupid, lousy fishermen, who are themselves entirely responsible for the depletion of the fish stocks in their fishing grounds, have a job to do. But guess what? When all the whales are dead, i'll bet you'll find that there are no fish left anyway.
Biodiversity means that no animal overbreeds and puts its eco system in danger.
Man is the only animal that does so.
Please take the time to send a message to the Icelandic Government on the Greenpeace website:
http://www.oceans.greenpeace.org/en/stop-icelandic-whaling
Apparently its Ok to hunt critically endangered animals- lets look at the dictionary definition of that shall we?
An endangered animal is one that 'is present in such small numbers that it is at risk of extinction'
Therefore a 'Critically endangered animal' is an animal that faces an extremely high risk of extinction in the immediate future.
WAY TO GO ICELAND! Lets kill off an entire species so your stupid, lousy fishermen, who are themselves entirely responsible for the depletion of the fish stocks in their fishing grounds, have a job to do. But guess what? When all the whales are dead, i'll bet you'll find that there are no fish left anyway.
Biodiversity means that no animal overbreeds and puts its eco system in danger.
Man is the only animal that does so.
Please take the time to send a message to the Icelandic Government on the Greenpeace website:
http://www.oceans.greenpeace.org/en/stop-icelandic-whaling
Golddigga
Apparently in their short relationaship, Sir Paul McCartney, much loved National Institution, musical genious, animal rights activist etc, was accused by his estranged wife, the cripple, Heather Mills, of brutally attacking her on several occaisions, once with a broken wine glass.
Fuck me, If i'd of been him I would probably of clubbed her round the back of her head with her false leg until she was dead.
If only we were in medieval times.
We could have burnt her at the stake as the money grabbing witch that she is.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Lucas by Day, Duncan by night?
He says
'If it's not too much trouble, please can you fix my antenna because i'm not hearing the voices in my head very clearly today.'
'If it's not too much trouble, please can you fix my antenna because i'm not hearing the voices in my head very clearly today.'
And Trotter? What did Trotter say!
Trotter said
'Would you please hurry up and get ready and take me for a walk?'
Because he's very polite like that.
'Would you please hurry up and get ready and take me for a walk?'
Because he's very polite like that.
And what do you think she said?
She said
'Would you not fuck off, can't you see i'm sucking a lemon?'
Monday, October 16, 2006
Lulu
Its bloody depressing being Lulu when the only images you can find are of that gobby singer from Scotland.
She sighs.
Murder she drove
Have I ever told you that Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face drives a lada with personalised number plates?
rebel
With headphones on, listening to Gangsta Rap, Tutz enjoys nothing more than a spot of random vandalism and spraying graffiti on underpasses.
This is her tag, so if you see it you know a small grey cat in a hoody is lurking with menaces somewhere near by.
The best laid plans
Faggot was considering starting a revolution, but, to be honest, he couldn't be bothered to get out of the bath and become an insurgent.
Gone to the.....
Following the collapse of Trail Finders , Trotters has opened his own travel agents.
He has a limited selection of offers, but if you want to go to the Isle of Dogs, Trotter is your man.
The Captains Table
The Captain has had a very tiring day.
He patrolled the yard at 6am, as is his wont, then took a bus to Dover where he attended the Salty Old Sea Dog reunion and gave a speach on what he has done since leaving the navy.
The speach was rewarded with thunderous applause and the Capatin was awarded a lovely carraige clock for his mantlepiece at home.
He drank Rum, sang sea shantys and reminissed about Ports around the world and sighed fondly thinking about all those bitches around the world.
They watched a short film on depletion of the Tuna stocks and then went on a tour of an army destroyer.
A little bit tipsey, he caught the bus home and collapsed exhausted on the sofa, thinking happy thoughts and wagging his tail.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Its not what you do its the way that you do it
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west and Tutz have gone to the cinema to eat popcorn and watch 'The devil Wears Prada'.
Trotter and Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face have gone to field in the middle of no where and have donned camouflage outfits, goggles and sturdy footwear and are haring around a field shooting paint balls at each other.
Captain Jack is pulling Lucas By Day, Duncan by night, across the sitting room by his back leg.
In Cuddesdon, Louis Vitton is sitting patiently by the mole hill waiting for the stupid velvety mole to stick his great big whiskery nose out of the hole so he can bite it. Resonance is in the field teaching the cows netball.
Tiny Margz is painting by numbers while Poochies sleeps in a little furry heap on her bean bag.
Axl is bored, nose pressed against the patio door glass wishing he was out running in the fields beyond the back fence.
Fat Boy Faggot and Fing, the cat I can't forget, have been shopping. They have brought socks and pants in Primark, chocolates from Thornton's, DVD's from Virgin and Sushi from Sainsbury's. They are now at home drinking Tea and Fat Boy has his paws in a bowl of warm soapy water to try and stop them aching.
At Varne's Ginge sits on the side in the kitchen and watches Varne patiently while she cooks dinner and wonders if it will be fish for dinner tonight.
Trotter and Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face have gone to field in the middle of no where and have donned camouflage outfits, goggles and sturdy footwear and are haring around a field shooting paint balls at each other.
Captain Jack is pulling Lucas By Day, Duncan by night, across the sitting room by his back leg.
In Cuddesdon, Louis Vitton is sitting patiently by the mole hill waiting for the stupid velvety mole to stick his great big whiskery nose out of the hole so he can bite it. Resonance is in the field teaching the cows netball.
Tiny Margz is painting by numbers while Poochies sleeps in a little furry heap on her bean bag.
Axl is bored, nose pressed against the patio door glass wishing he was out running in the fields beyond the back fence.
Fat Boy Faggot and Fing, the cat I can't forget, have been shopping. They have brought socks and pants in Primark, chocolates from Thornton's, DVD's from Virgin and Sushi from Sainsbury's. They are now at home drinking Tea and Fat Boy has his paws in a bowl of warm soapy water to try and stop them aching.
At Varne's Ginge sits on the side in the kitchen and watches Varne patiently while she cooks dinner and wonders if it will be fish for dinner tonight.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
The last Unicorn
Yesterday it rained. Rained and Rained, like it was never going to stop. The water poured into drains, and when it had filled up the drains it started to rise, filling up peoples houses and causing havoc everywhere. In some places people wondered if they should attempt to find 2 of each animal and force them onto rubber inflatables, some clambered onto their rooftops and waited to be rescued. Thankfully we had no flooding at Preacher's Lane yesterday, but the rain caused problems for some.
Fing missed 3 appointments yesterday because he cannot bear to get his paws wet.
He missed an appointment at the opticians. Although he has purrfect 20/20 vision, he does like to keep the 3 yearly appointments, if only to amaze the optician with his optical skills.
Not only the opticians but an appointment with the doctor where he had intended to discuss his shaky leg and the problems it was causing with his samba dancing. Why, only the other day the shaky leg had caused a singularly embarrassing moment when pressed up against the Welsh Ladies Champion in a set routine. The Welsh team, on tour in a series of exhibitions to display their swarthy dark looks, freestyle Samba Style and history lessons in Mining had insisted that Fing be removed from the arena, amongst shouts of 'PERVERT!' and 'YOU AUGHT TO BE ASHAMED!!' from the crowd.
Fing stares stonily out of the window from his perch on top of the TV and remembers the day with horror. The shaky leg must be addressed!
And finally, FINALLY, the most important appointment of them all. His 3rd recall for the auditions of Lord of The Rings, the musical, where he had been shortlisted for the role of Aragorn, son Arathorn. But no. No. Due to the biblical flood-like nature of the rain he is trapped in the house and his musical dreams shattered. He wipes a teary eye with a shaky paw and sniffs quietly in a dignified manner.
It is at that point that he turns round and finds the rest of the pets sat around the coffee table with Trotter wearing a blue and white stripy pinny, serving tea and cake!
All thoughts of missed appointments dissapear like mist on a sunny day and he asks Trotter for a coffee and helps himself to a vienniese whirl.
Sometimes rainy days are just the best of all he decides.
Fing missed 3 appointments yesterday because he cannot bear to get his paws wet.
He missed an appointment at the opticians. Although he has purrfect 20/20 vision, he does like to keep the 3 yearly appointments, if only to amaze the optician with his optical skills.
Not only the opticians but an appointment with the doctor where he had intended to discuss his shaky leg and the problems it was causing with his samba dancing. Why, only the other day the shaky leg had caused a singularly embarrassing moment when pressed up against the Welsh Ladies Champion in a set routine. The Welsh team, on tour in a series of exhibitions to display their swarthy dark looks, freestyle Samba Style and history lessons in Mining had insisted that Fing be removed from the arena, amongst shouts of 'PERVERT!' and 'YOU AUGHT TO BE ASHAMED!!' from the crowd.
Fing stares stonily out of the window from his perch on top of the TV and remembers the day with horror. The shaky leg must be addressed!
And finally, FINALLY, the most important appointment of them all. His 3rd recall for the auditions of Lord of The Rings, the musical, where he had been shortlisted for the role of Aragorn, son Arathorn. But no. No. Due to the biblical flood-like nature of the rain he is trapped in the house and his musical dreams shattered. He wipes a teary eye with a shaky paw and sniffs quietly in a dignified manner.
It is at that point that he turns round and finds the rest of the pets sat around the coffee table with Trotter wearing a blue and white stripy pinny, serving tea and cake!
All thoughts of missed appointments dissapear like mist on a sunny day and he asks Trotter for a coffee and helps himself to a vienniese whirl.
Sometimes rainy days are just the best of all he decides.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
URGENT! URGENT!
Needed urgently, home for large ginger and white stripy cat.
His name is Fluffy and he currently lives in an old peoples home where he sits on the laps of the elderly and allows himself to be petted by the knarly old arthritic fingers of the oldsters.
Unfortunately for both Fluffy and the Oldsters, new legislation states that old peoples homes are not allowed to keep pets, so all the Old's will loose a beloved friend and poor old Fluffy, unless offered a loving home, will be sent to the knackers yard this Friday and will be put to sleep.
You obviously understand that we cannot possible introduce another animal into our humble abode, Trotters and his autistic tendencies would never understand, and to be fair, last time I rescued a cat it had to live in my bedroom for 3 months and that was before we had Trotter and the cat flap in my bedroom door. It would be a disaster, so!
If you know where a neutered, very personable ginger and white stripy tom could live out the rest of his years, please let me know.
(I know he probably smells of old people and piss but that's nothing a once over with fairy liquid won't cure)
His name is Fluffy and he currently lives in an old peoples home where he sits on the laps of the elderly and allows himself to be petted by the knarly old arthritic fingers of the oldsters.
Unfortunately for both Fluffy and the Oldsters, new legislation states that old peoples homes are not allowed to keep pets, so all the Old's will loose a beloved friend and poor old Fluffy, unless offered a loving home, will be sent to the knackers yard this Friday and will be put to sleep.
You obviously understand that we cannot possible introduce another animal into our humble abode, Trotters and his autistic tendencies would never understand, and to be fair, last time I rescued a cat it had to live in my bedroom for 3 months and that was before we had Trotter and the cat flap in my bedroom door. It would be a disaster, so!
If you know where a neutered, very personable ginger and white stripy tom could live out the rest of his years, please let me know.
(I know he probably smells of old people and piss but that's nothing a once over with fairy liquid won't cure)
Snack
In the kitchen Truly Scruptious Lulu is baking.
She has made angel cake and sachertorte. She has made rock cakes and shortbread biscuits.
All this for a light afternoon snack.
For herself.
Good lord, no wonder she's the chubbiest dog in the west!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
