Horrorscope

Trotter has been surfing the Internet this morning because he is very bored.

He was bored of Lulu walking into the wall because she was too drunk to realise there was no doorway there.

He is bored of Tutz and her scratchy pole, who does she think she is with her strange fruit bat ways?

He is irritated by Fing slinking round the house in silk pajama's with an independent under his arm and a skinny latte in hand.

He is annoyed by Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face dressed in camouflage in case of war.

He is not particularly annoyed or irritated by Fat Boy Faggot, but only because he doesn't know where he is. He is probably in the bath, having a nap. Trotter wonders how Faggy will feel when the bath is replaced next week, Trotters is distracted for a moment with thoughts of dripping taps and emergency plumbers. He hopes its not the one with the eyes next week he decides.

Having made a decision about the plumber he returns to MSN where inadvertently he discovers Pet Horoscopes with Russel Grant. His eyes grow very wide indeed.

What horoscope is he, he wonders? Is he an Aries who will have to communicate with a neighbour this week, he wonders? He hopes not because as much as he barks and barks and braks at mad Thelma next door, will she fuck off and leave him alone? No.

He hopes he might be a Taurus as they need outdoor physical exercise this week, or Libran pets who are being encouraged to walk in paint and make masterpieces to adorn the sitting room! He's already covered the patio in little orange footprints, now its time for the walls!

He doesn't think he can be a Virgo as they like a tidy house.

All in all its very confusing.

http://horoscopes.msn.co.uk/horoscopes_astrology/petscopes.php

He decides he will ask Martha what star sign he is when she gets home.