Pre NYE

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.

Too many cooks

'Can I help?' asks Trotter, 'Im very good with my paws you know!'

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

A Dog is for Life, not just for Christmas.

http://dogstrust.org.uk

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.

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!

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.

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.

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?

Hunter

UGLY.

Fox

BEAUTIFUL

Fox Hunters

Fox Hunters

Did 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.

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.

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'.

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.

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.

Bath Time Boy

Fat Boy Faggot considers it an imposition to be disturbed during his ablutions.

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.

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!'