'Happy Birthday!!!' shout the pets at Martha who until that point had been sound asleep in bed. A tousled head emerges from the duvet, Its Marth! Shes awake and its her birthday! Hurrah!
The pets have made a cup of tea, toast, a cake and kedgeree, just incase of emergency. They sit expectantly and watch the sleepy marth, who whispers 'just 5 more minutes' and promptly falls asleep again.
Trotter is ver dissapointed, he wanted Marth to wake up and open the card that he made for her, so he stands very close to the edge of the bed and barks loudly and unexpectedly into Marthas ear, this makes Martha sit bolt upright in bed like a startled Billy Idol, and unfortunately spills the tea all over Tutz, who 'ppprrooTTTTS'in an indignant manner.
Martha opens her cards, eats a small piece of toast, but wrinkles her nose at the gently steaming kedgeree in open defiance, so the cats eat it instead.
Later in the day the pets will be preparing a feast for Martha, and Varne, Mrs Warboise, Fly and Steve are coming round for a cup of tea, a slice of cake and large volumes of alcoholic beverages. And probably some duck spring rolls I would imagine.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Show
Today in Preachers Lane, the Pets are having an amateur talent contest.
Trotters is tap dancing as we speak, tip tappying his way round the room as the other pets watch from the sofa's.
Fing has bored everyone to tears with his 'I Claudius' rendition, Fat Boy Faggots limbo dancing was very warmly received and earned a heartfelt round of applause.
Tutz has done a variety of invertebrate impressions. As you are well aware her octopus is a work of beauty, and sometimes when she has been hanging in a boneless fashion over the top of her scratchy pole she has been mistaken for a grey furry squid.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west, received a gasp of delight as she came in the room in a variety of veils and proceeded to belly dance. It is said the most warmly received belly dancers in Turkey are those with ample proportions, and it was exactly the same in the front room. There was lots of cheering and 'huzzahs!' as Lulu gyrated madly around the coffee table.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face has amazed everyone with her magic tricks. She put Tutz in a box and sawed her in half. Tutz thought this was even madder than usual and chirped and 'PPPRrroot'ed in a wild and excitable fashion, large yellow eyes like saucers. Giggsey then pulled Trotter out of a cardboard box, which came as a bit of a surprise for Trotter because he didn't realise he was in there in the first place. She played card tricks and read peoples minds, she made David Copperfield disappear and thankfully couldn't remember how to bring him back again. She made a locomotive appear and race through the sitting room, which everyone was very excited about as they got some snacks from the restaurant carriage.
All in all the pets decided that Giggsey deserved the prize for such a great talent, and all agreed that she really had been hiding a light under a bushel for far too long.
Trotters is tap dancing as we speak, tip tappying his way round the room as the other pets watch from the sofa's.
Fing has bored everyone to tears with his 'I Claudius' rendition, Fat Boy Faggots limbo dancing was very warmly received and earned a heartfelt round of applause.
Tutz has done a variety of invertebrate impressions. As you are well aware her octopus is a work of beauty, and sometimes when she has been hanging in a boneless fashion over the top of her scratchy pole she has been mistaken for a grey furry squid.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west, received a gasp of delight as she came in the room in a variety of veils and proceeded to belly dance. It is said the most warmly received belly dancers in Turkey are those with ample proportions, and it was exactly the same in the front room. There was lots of cheering and 'huzzahs!' as Lulu gyrated madly around the coffee table.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face has amazed everyone with her magic tricks. She put Tutz in a box and sawed her in half. Tutz thought this was even madder than usual and chirped and 'PPPRrroot'ed in a wild and excitable fashion, large yellow eyes like saucers. Giggsey then pulled Trotter out of a cardboard box, which came as a bit of a surprise for Trotter because he didn't realise he was in there in the first place. She played card tricks and read peoples minds, she made David Copperfield disappear and thankfully couldn't remember how to bring him back again. She made a locomotive appear and race through the sitting room, which everyone was very excited about as they got some snacks from the restaurant carriage.
All in all the pets decided that Giggsey deserved the prize for such a great talent, and all agreed that she really had been hiding a light under a bushel for far too long.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Baubles, Bangles and Beads.
It was a heavy weekend.
I returned from Justins around midday and surprisingly felt rather good. I decided to start making my costume for the comic book hero party at the pub and travelled all the way to the Cowley Road in search of Blue Glass Beads for a bracelet.
£40 later I returned home clutching all manner of jewellery making equipment and materials and spent the rest of the afternoon drilling holes into sea shells and snail shells, and threading brightly coloured beads onto lengths of copper wire.
Gruey came round and was astonished to find me so active.
The Marks came round and were astonished to find me at home.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face was astonished by the beads and shells and copper wire and kept trying to sneak an inquisitive paw on the table to hook something off.
5 hours later I had completed my beautiful bracelet for my outfit, as Niamh, from Slaine the King. I was very excited and pleased with myself as it was a proper work of art.
It is rather a shame that the theme for the party is no longer 'comics' but 'super heroes', as Niamh is definately not a super hero.
I am at a loss for what to do.
I returned from Justins around midday and surprisingly felt rather good. I decided to start making my costume for the comic book hero party at the pub and travelled all the way to the Cowley Road in search of Blue Glass Beads for a bracelet.
£40 later I returned home clutching all manner of jewellery making equipment and materials and spent the rest of the afternoon drilling holes into sea shells and snail shells, and threading brightly coloured beads onto lengths of copper wire.
Gruey came round and was astonished to find me so active.
The Marks came round and were astonished to find me at home.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face was astonished by the beads and shells and copper wire and kept trying to sneak an inquisitive paw on the table to hook something off.
5 hours later I had completed my beautiful bracelet for my outfit, as Niamh, from Slaine the King. I was very excited and pleased with myself as it was a proper work of art.
It is rather a shame that the theme for the party is no longer 'comics' but 'super heroes', as Niamh is definately not a super hero.
I am at a loss for what to do.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
The time is now
It is ten past five, although due to daylight saving and the Scottish and their feudal system of farming and tithing, it should be ten past four.
Lily May Wing has finally gone to bed.
Maxine, Georgia and their wierd squaddie straight friend have dissapreared into the mist towards Gainsborough Green.
Karl and Juicy are talking family values. Batter or not to batter, with breadcrumbs, and possibly a small serving of tartare sauce.
Juicy is off on a cruise next week, he will tour the highlights and the low lights of the meditteranean. Oh yes, Monacco, Tunisia, the Port of Spain and Gibraltor, if he's lucky he may get to kiss a barbary ape.(do they look like old men?)
The rest of us are all a bit limp, we are all a bit legs and arms, like random,small octopi out of water, Jan has, as always, great style and pose with a casual leg, but unfortunately, the casual aspect of the rest of our bodies is slack and upsetting.
Justin has just made me a bit of loo roll with staples in it. I shall probably cherish it forever.
Karl has matching, yet not matching socks on top of his stocking, suspenders and woolen, knitted thong.
Claire has been trying to tidy up, but the rest of us has prooved to much for her.
Knitted Baubles apparently. That and blamange, air condittioned jackets powered by chipmunks and chicken fillets, wings, scrawny necks and scratchy feet.
Lily May Wing has finally gone to bed.
Maxine, Georgia and their wierd squaddie straight friend have dissapreared into the mist towards Gainsborough Green.
Karl and Juicy are talking family values. Batter or not to batter, with breadcrumbs, and possibly a small serving of tartare sauce.
Juicy is off on a cruise next week, he will tour the highlights and the low lights of the meditteranean. Oh yes, Monacco, Tunisia, the Port of Spain and Gibraltor, if he's lucky he may get to kiss a barbary ape.(do they look like old men?)
The rest of us are all a bit limp, we are all a bit legs and arms, like random,small octopi out of water, Jan has, as always, great style and pose with a casual leg, but unfortunately, the casual aspect of the rest of our bodies is slack and upsetting.
Justin has just made me a bit of loo roll with staples in it. I shall probably cherish it forever.
Karl has matching, yet not matching socks on top of his stocking, suspenders and woolen, knitted thong.
Claire has been trying to tidy up, but the rest of us has prooved to much for her.
Knitted Baubles apparently. That and blamange, air condittioned jackets powered by chipmunks and chicken fillets, wings, scrawny necks and scratchy feet.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Thursday
Trotter is still humping shoes.
Fing is still scraping things off the side.
Tutz is still happily listening to her inner voices.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face is still standing crosseyed and mewing in an annoyed fashion.
Fat Boy Faggot is sleeping in other places as he doesn't like the new bath.
Truly scumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west is constipated.
Thats it really.
Fing is still scraping things off the side.
Tutz is still happily listening to her inner voices.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face is still standing crosseyed and mewing in an annoyed fashion.
Fat Boy Faggot is sleeping in other places as he doesn't like the new bath.
Truly scumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west is constipated.
Thats it really.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
He is
'OOooooohhhhhhhhh
Trotterry Rotterry, packed his trunk
and said goodbye to the circus,
Off he went with a trottery trot, trot! trot! trot!
Trottery Rottery packed his trunk
And trotted back to the jungle
Off he went with a trottery trot, Trot! trot! trot! '
Trotter is not an elephant.
He is a free man.
Trotterry Rotterry, packed his trunk
and said goodbye to the circus,
Off he went with a trottery trot, trot! trot! trot!
Trottery Rottery packed his trunk
And trotted back to the jungle
Off he went with a trottery trot, Trot! trot! trot! '
Trotter is not an elephant.
He is a free man.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Carpet Day
Every 3 years or so, Varne and I like to entertain ourselves by laying new carpet. This day has traditionally become known as 'Carpet Day'.
Carpet Day, also traditionally, normally falls on a Sunday, when Varne and I have terrific hangover headaches, so it is customary to fortify ourselves with alcoholic beverages before we start wrestling with the large unwieldy roll of carpet.
There is no traditional place to purchase the carpet- We have purchased carpets from the catalogue, from Mayes World of Carpets, from a lovely carpet shop on the Cowley Road, long since closed, and once, in-advisably, from the back of a lorry in the car park. The Carpet from the back of the lorry was the one that caused Varne and I the most distress as unfortunately we had chosen our rolls in the dark and had picked 3 different shades by accident.
Sometimes the carpet we have bought is too small, so after we have moved all the furniture into the garden and have got a proper sweat on, we unroll it and stare at it in abject disbelief, then try moving it around to see if it will fit if its length ways instead of sideways. Of course, this never works, so those types of carpet day are very unfulfilling.
Sometimes, and more usually, the carpet is too big and Varne and I become drunk in charge of Stanley knifes, so the edges of the carpet do not bear close scrutiny. After all these years it is a small miracle that Varne and I have not seriously injured ourselves, given the drunkenness and all.
I didn't know yesterday was to be a Carpet Day until Fly arrived in a state of nervous exhaustion.
Varne was on the turn, he advised, and was refusing to listen to reason regarding laying of carpets.
I went down to see Varne who was smoking and unamused. 'Fuck it' she said.
I told Varne that she was being terribly naughty and so Fly and I wrestled the long, thin, piece of carpet up the stairs and started to cut off the edges and staple it into place.
Varne watched from the bottom of the stairs for a while and then realised that Carpet Day was officially here, opened the wine and started marking out the next piece of carpet.
After several hours of Stanley knifes, pincers, Phillips screwdrivers, glasses of wine and staple guns the carpet was in place.
I decided to celebrate by baking a cake. I went to town and purchased all the ingredients and then spent some time whipping together all of the ingredients in the mixer. Trotter barked at me while I was grating the chocolate for the filling and decided that he needed a different view of the kitchen so inspected my progress from the back of the sofa through the hatchway.
The cake went into the oven and I waited. The promised half an hour came and went as I watched the cake get bigger, and bigger and bigger, yet refusing to set in the middle. So I carried on waiting and watching until an hour had passed and the dome of the cake was crunchy and crispy and a dark brown.
Unfortunately tragedy struck.
I carefully removed the cake from the cake tin and left it to cool.
I came back to cut it into slices and discovered that the inside hadn't cooked and was all gloopy. Disheartened, but not yet beaten, I sliced it into 4 slices. The bottom one was fine, the next looked like a donut where I had to scoop out the gloopy insides, as with the 3rd. The 4th, the peak of the cake suddenly made a dash for freedom and smashed into a million crumbly pieces on the kitchen floor.
Trotter got down from the back of the sofa and Lulu ran and hid. Fing sat on the side and pretended he hasn't noticed as I stared at the crumbs and cried. I really couldn't take it, it took so long to bake it.
I decided to make the best of a bad job and threw it all together anyway.
The only person who had a slice was Martha. I think everyone else was too scared.
All in all it was a disappointing end to Carpet Day, well, perhaps not for Varne, who found my blow up Pecker and was enourmously excited. I would of added the picture, but we've already been accused of pornography and I wouldnt want to proove them right.
Carpet Day, also traditionally, normally falls on a Sunday, when Varne and I have terrific hangover headaches, so it is customary to fortify ourselves with alcoholic beverages before we start wrestling with the large unwieldy roll of carpet.
There is no traditional place to purchase the carpet- We have purchased carpets from the catalogue, from Mayes World of Carpets, from a lovely carpet shop on the Cowley Road, long since closed, and once, in-advisably, from the back of a lorry in the car park. The Carpet from the back of the lorry was the one that caused Varne and I the most distress as unfortunately we had chosen our rolls in the dark and had picked 3 different shades by accident.
Sometimes the carpet we have bought is too small, so after we have moved all the furniture into the garden and have got a proper sweat on, we unroll it and stare at it in abject disbelief, then try moving it around to see if it will fit if its length ways instead of sideways. Of course, this never works, so those types of carpet day are very unfulfilling.
Sometimes, and more usually, the carpet is too big and Varne and I become drunk in charge of Stanley knifes, so the edges of the carpet do not bear close scrutiny. After all these years it is a small miracle that Varne and I have not seriously injured ourselves, given the drunkenness and all.
I didn't know yesterday was to be a Carpet Day until Fly arrived in a state of nervous exhaustion.
Varne was on the turn, he advised, and was refusing to listen to reason regarding laying of carpets.
I went down to see Varne who was smoking and unamused. 'Fuck it' she said.
I told Varne that she was being terribly naughty and so Fly and I wrestled the long, thin, piece of carpet up the stairs and started to cut off the edges and staple it into place.
Varne watched from the bottom of the stairs for a while and then realised that Carpet Day was officially here, opened the wine and started marking out the next piece of carpet.
After several hours of Stanley knifes, pincers, Phillips screwdrivers, glasses of wine and staple guns the carpet was in place.
I decided to celebrate by baking a cake. I went to town and purchased all the ingredients and then spent some time whipping together all of the ingredients in the mixer. Trotter barked at me while I was grating the chocolate for the filling and decided that he needed a different view of the kitchen so inspected my progress from the back of the sofa through the hatchway.
The cake went into the oven and I waited. The promised half an hour came and went as I watched the cake get bigger, and bigger and bigger, yet refusing to set in the middle. So I carried on waiting and watching until an hour had passed and the dome of the cake was crunchy and crispy and a dark brown.
Unfortunately tragedy struck.
I carefully removed the cake from the cake tin and left it to cool.
I came back to cut it into slices and discovered that the inside hadn't cooked and was all gloopy. Disheartened, but not yet beaten, I sliced it into 4 slices. The bottom one was fine, the next looked like a donut where I had to scoop out the gloopy insides, as with the 3rd. The 4th, the peak of the cake suddenly made a dash for freedom and smashed into a million crumbly pieces on the kitchen floor.
Trotter got down from the back of the sofa and Lulu ran and hid. Fing sat on the side and pretended he hasn't noticed as I stared at the crumbs and cried. I really couldn't take it, it took so long to bake it.
I decided to make the best of a bad job and threw it all together anyway.
The only person who had a slice was Martha. I think everyone else was too scared.
All in all it was a disappointing end to Carpet Day, well, perhaps not for Varne, who found my blow up Pecker and was enourmously excited. I would of added the picture, but we've already been accused of pornography and I wouldnt want to proove them right.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
White Christmas
Meanwhile, Captain Jack dreamt of Tuna and a force ten gale, and lots of things very nautical indeed.
Thelma
As you are all aware, Trotter is so jam packed full of naughtiness that its inevitable that some of it has to escape.
The escaping naughtiness can sometimes be amusing, sometimes loud. Sometimes annoying and sometimes very stingy.
On Monday night the naughtiness came in the form of stingy.
The utter lunacy that is Thelma, next door, decided that she would purchase a can of cat food and a can of dog food for our pets, as she is prone to do on occasion. Sometimes she scrapes at the door with a bony finger and sometimes she stands by the front gate in a bemused fashion waiting for one of us to come out. On this particular pet food parcel occasion she choose to wait for one of us in her own front yard behind the enormous rosemary bush.
So, there she stood stood behind the aromatic herbs, singing hymns to occupy herself as she waited, swaying gently from side to side. Occasionally she clapped, or tried an experimental hop, just to keep herself amused.
So when Martha and a giddy Trotter came back from their walk, she leapt out from behind the bush in an excitable manner, waving the plastic bag and talking gibberish with a Jamaican accent. This, along with her slippers, red and black stripy socks, knitted hat and waterproof jacket was too much for Trotter to bear.
He leaped for the bag which by this point had been passed to a horrified Martha. And so, unfortunately, it was that Marthas hand was bitten by Trotters slavering 'anti Thelma' jaws. (As, not only is Trotter driven to distraction by bags, Thelma is the thing he hates the most in the world. More than pot plants, more than bedroom doors, moor than his own dinner bowl)
Embittered by the pain , Martha threw the bag of cans to the floor and stormed into the house crying 'WHY DOES SHE HAVE TO DO IT?', gripping her crippled appendage to her chest as if it were a wounded baby. 'WHY?'
'Because shes barking mad, Martha', i replied, but this fell on stony ground. Martha sat and muttered and rocked on the sofa in pain.
Trotter fell into a deep sleep, having discharged a sizable chunk of naughtiness he was able to rest, peacefully, for a whole half an hour. Unlike Martha, who is still in pain 3 days later.
The escaping naughtiness can sometimes be amusing, sometimes loud. Sometimes annoying and sometimes very stingy.
On Monday night the naughtiness came in the form of stingy.
The utter lunacy that is Thelma, next door, decided that she would purchase a can of cat food and a can of dog food for our pets, as she is prone to do on occasion. Sometimes she scrapes at the door with a bony finger and sometimes she stands by the front gate in a bemused fashion waiting for one of us to come out. On this particular pet food parcel occasion she choose to wait for one of us in her own front yard behind the enormous rosemary bush.
So, there she stood stood behind the aromatic herbs, singing hymns to occupy herself as she waited, swaying gently from side to side. Occasionally she clapped, or tried an experimental hop, just to keep herself amused.
So when Martha and a giddy Trotter came back from their walk, she leapt out from behind the bush in an excitable manner, waving the plastic bag and talking gibberish with a Jamaican accent. This, along with her slippers, red and black stripy socks, knitted hat and waterproof jacket was too much for Trotter to bear.
He leaped for the bag which by this point had been passed to a horrified Martha. And so, unfortunately, it was that Marthas hand was bitten by Trotters slavering 'anti Thelma' jaws. (As, not only is Trotter driven to distraction by bags, Thelma is the thing he hates the most in the world. More than pot plants, more than bedroom doors, moor than his own dinner bowl)
Embittered by the pain , Martha threw the bag of cans to the floor and stormed into the house crying 'WHY DOES SHE HAVE TO DO IT?', gripping her crippled appendage to her chest as if it were a wounded baby. 'WHY?'
'Because shes barking mad, Martha', i replied, but this fell on stony ground. Martha sat and muttered and rocked on the sofa in pain.
Trotter fell into a deep sleep, having discharged a sizable chunk of naughtiness he was able to rest, peacefully, for a whole half an hour. Unlike Martha, who is still in pain 3 days later.
Big Lou
On Monday Big Lou went for his yearly M.O.T.
the vet carefully checked his tire pressure and made sure he had enough oil, then weighed the boy and discovered he was 5 kilograms.
'Hmmmm', said the vet, 'considering the size of his head, thats a reasonable weight'.
the vet carefully checked his tire pressure and made sure he had enough oil, then weighed the boy and discovered he was 5 kilograms.
'Hmmmm', said the vet, 'considering the size of his head, thats a reasonable weight'.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Trotters has had a busy weekend dressing Fillipa Hole and some other random itternerant that ended up at my house on Friday night.
Fillipa was dressed in the beautiful purple sequinned dress that Trotters had run up on his old battered singer sewing machine, painstaikingly covered in sequins by a muttering Giggsey Girl.
In the dress, pink leg warmers covered in knee high black socks, a black wig and Carleens tiger skin robe, he resembled nothing more than a hooker on crack cocaine. It was warmly received by the rest of us as we had been up all night celebrating the weekend and were rather the worse for wear.
Varne decided that if Fillipa was in a frock that legs shood be shaved, but unfortunately took some skin off in the process, and a nipple was nearly lost in a horrific clipper incident.
Now the weekend is nearly over.
I feel like ive been kicked repeatedly in the kidneys by an irate racehouse. Milan is wrapped up on the sofa in one of the throws looking like a dead brown bear cub.
We are watching Crufts, the best dog show in the world. This has not stopped Trotter from chasing Tutz up the stairs. Trotter does not have a snowballs chance in hell of ever winning an award at Crufts, we dont know his breed, he's not particularly agile and he's downright disobediant. He did win Scruffiest dog at Oxford Pride but through default, as he was the only entrant. Mind you, I don't know any other dogs that have dreadlocks on their willies, so I think it was probably a well deserved win.
Fillipa was dressed in the beautiful purple sequinned dress that Trotters had run up on his old battered singer sewing machine, painstaikingly covered in sequins by a muttering Giggsey Girl.
In the dress, pink leg warmers covered in knee high black socks, a black wig and Carleens tiger skin robe, he resembled nothing more than a hooker on crack cocaine. It was warmly received by the rest of us as we had been up all night celebrating the weekend and were rather the worse for wear.
Varne decided that if Fillipa was in a frock that legs shood be shaved, but unfortunately took some skin off in the process, and a nipple was nearly lost in a horrific clipper incident.
Now the weekend is nearly over.
I feel like ive been kicked repeatedly in the kidneys by an irate racehouse. Milan is wrapped up on the sofa in one of the throws looking like a dead brown bear cub.
We are watching Crufts, the best dog show in the world. This has not stopped Trotter from chasing Tutz up the stairs. Trotter does not have a snowballs chance in hell of ever winning an award at Crufts, we dont know his breed, he's not particularly agile and he's downright disobediant. He did win Scruffiest dog at Oxford Pride but through default, as he was the only entrant. Mind you, I don't know any other dogs that have dreadlocks on their willies, so I think it was probably a well deserved win.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Discussion
'I think the most moving performance by an animal in a film has to be from the Incredible Journey, ' says Fing from the sofa. ' When that poor dog falls into the big watery pit and everyone thinks he has drowned',
'Oh Come on! Lassie has to be the most moving pet performer of all time?', disagrees Lulu , sitting on the kitchen side as she mixes a bowl of cookies with a cigar hanging out the side of her mouth.
'I don't know about 'moving', says Giggsey Girl The Stupid Slug Face, 'But I happen to think the best acting ever done in a film is by the cat who played Jones in Alien, then headlined in the sequel, Aliens, INCREDIBLE performance. Outstanding, that was pure terror on that cats face'
'Are we limited to cats and dogs?' asks Fat Boy Faggot, sat on the bench being given a manicure by Tutz, 'As I personally think that little pig rounding up those stupid woolly sheep in Babe deserves a medal'
Tutz is disinclined to comment as she feels the use of animals in films is akin to theft, do these animals reap the benefits of their hard work? No! Do they get to travel the world in yachts, dripping with diamonds and drinking Crystal? No! All they get, and that's if they're lucky, is regularly de-flea'd and groomed incessantly. No, she rather be quite mad and left to her own devises she decides as she becomes cross eyed with concentration, applying a coat of pink varnish to Faggots nails.
Trotter sits and listens to the conversation and cannot remember watching any films with animals in. Suddenly he has an epiphany. 'My favourite animal in a film is Ermentrude from the magic roundabout' he pipes up.
All the other pets do not disabuse him of this notion and smile at him warmly, 'Ermentrude it is then' says Fing, in a good humour for once.
Lulu makes tea for everyone and they all sit around and talk about the good old days instead.
'Oh Come on! Lassie has to be the most moving pet performer of all time?', disagrees Lulu , sitting on the kitchen side as she mixes a bowl of cookies with a cigar hanging out the side of her mouth.
'I don't know about 'moving', says Giggsey Girl The Stupid Slug Face, 'But I happen to think the best acting ever done in a film is by the cat who played Jones in Alien, then headlined in the sequel, Aliens, INCREDIBLE performance. Outstanding, that was pure terror on that cats face'
'Are we limited to cats and dogs?' asks Fat Boy Faggot, sat on the bench being given a manicure by Tutz, 'As I personally think that little pig rounding up those stupid woolly sheep in Babe deserves a medal'
Tutz is disinclined to comment as she feels the use of animals in films is akin to theft, do these animals reap the benefits of their hard work? No! Do they get to travel the world in yachts, dripping with diamonds and drinking Crystal? No! All they get, and that's if they're lucky, is regularly de-flea'd and groomed incessantly. No, she rather be quite mad and left to her own devises she decides as she becomes cross eyed with concentration, applying a coat of pink varnish to Faggots nails.
Trotter sits and listens to the conversation and cannot remember watching any films with animals in. Suddenly he has an epiphany. 'My favourite animal in a film is Ermentrude from the magic roundabout' he pipes up.
All the other pets do not disabuse him of this notion and smile at him warmly, 'Ermentrude it is then' says Fing, in a good humour for once.
Lulu makes tea for everyone and they all sit around and talk about the good old days instead.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Trotters Horoscope
Cancer: It could very well be that something in the air has got you out of sorts; many disagreeable odours cause more dramatic reactions from creatures with a high degree of sensitivity! Do what you can to alert your human companion to the irritant; no one wants you to suffer if they can do anything to prevent it! Some cleansers used at home may contain harsh chemicals; if that’s the case encourage your housemate to seek out more environmentally friendly products.
http://horoscopes.msn.co.uk/horoscopes_astrology/petscopes.php
http://horoscopes.msn.co.uk/horoscopes_astrology/petscopes.php
Sometimes She
Sometimes Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face sleeps on top f the TV and is warmed by the hot air coming from the radiator.
Sometimes Giggsey Girl likes to force her body through a tiny gap in the kitchen, through which she can access a collapsed set of drawers that should actually open out into the sitting room. It is in these drawers that she keeps her collection of marbles and bits of string, and is also her favourite hiding place as none of the other cats know about it.
Sometimes Giggsey Girl travels to an alternate reality through an old pipe in Thelma's garden, where she is a tax inspector and seizes peoples particulars in the name of the law.
Sometimes she likes to tap dance while listening to the work of Miles Davis.
Sometimes she goes paint balling with Trotter.
Occasionally, when the opportunity arises, she particularly enjoys sitting in large cardboard boxes and laying in wait for the other cats. It is at this point that she likes to jump out and scare the willies out of them. This can often result in a nasty swipe round the back of the head from the aggrieved party.
Sometimes Giggsey Girl likes to force her body through a tiny gap in the kitchen, through which she can access a collapsed set of drawers that should actually open out into the sitting room. It is in these drawers that she keeps her collection of marbles and bits of string, and is also her favourite hiding place as none of the other cats know about it.
Sometimes Giggsey Girl travels to an alternate reality through an old pipe in Thelma's garden, where she is a tax inspector and seizes peoples particulars in the name of the law.
Sometimes she likes to tap dance while listening to the work of Miles Davis.
Sometimes she goes paint balling with Trotter.
Occasionally, when the opportunity arises, she particularly enjoys sitting in large cardboard boxes and laying in wait for the other cats. It is at this point that she likes to jump out and scare the willies out of them. This can often result in a nasty swipe round the back of the head from the aggrieved party.
Today
The Preachers Lane Pet Choir are sat in a semi circle in the lounge.
Fing is perched on top of the television with a tiny baton in his right paw.
He looks at each pet in turn, all of whom almost imperceptively nod to indicate they are ready.
He waves the baton in the air, and they start....
'Happy Birthday to You!,
Happy Birthday to You!,
Happy Birthday Dear Rob!
Happy Birthday to You!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROB from all of us at Trotter and Fing!
Fing is perched on top of the television with a tiny baton in his right paw.
He looks at each pet in turn, all of whom almost imperceptively nod to indicate they are ready.
He waves the baton in the air, and they start....
'Happy Birthday to You!,
Happy Birthday to You!,
Happy Birthday Dear Rob!
Happy Birthday to You!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROB from all of us at Trotter and Fing!
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Sound of Silence
It has been terribly quiet on the estate recently.
Varne lost the key to Uncle Ernies moped, so her and Gruey havent had any drunken escapades to the garage, or any accidents in the multi storey car park.
Due to the incessant rain Andray, Dane and the boys have not been practasing their MCing underneath the basket ball hoop on the corner.
Due to the mud caused by the incessant rain Fing has been unable to practise his stunt motorcycling and has been forced to stay in doors and rub dubbing into his chaps and leather harness.
Trotters is even having a quiet night, sitting forlornly on the arm of the sofa after Martha removed the sock he was trying to hump.
All the pets are housebound for fear of getting their hair wet.
There have been no drag queens coming for fashion advice, or wild chill outs involving cross dressing and gurning. Nothing.
Even the crackheads on the next block have been keeping a low profile.
Everyone is watching the calandar waiting for summer to arrive, because as Big Mark says, 'Its just so much more practical' than winter.
Varne lost the key to Uncle Ernies moped, so her and Gruey havent had any drunken escapades to the garage, or any accidents in the multi storey car park.
Due to the incessant rain Andray, Dane and the boys have not been practasing their MCing underneath the basket ball hoop on the corner.
Due to the mud caused by the incessant rain Fing has been unable to practise his stunt motorcycling and has been forced to stay in doors and rub dubbing into his chaps and leather harness.
Trotters is even having a quiet night, sitting forlornly on the arm of the sofa after Martha removed the sock he was trying to hump.
All the pets are housebound for fear of getting their hair wet.
There have been no drag queens coming for fashion advice, or wild chill outs involving cross dressing and gurning. Nothing.
Even the crackheads on the next block have been keeping a low profile.
Everyone is watching the calandar waiting for summer to arrive, because as Big Mark says, 'Its just so much more practical' than winter.
Friday, March 02, 2007
sleep
As is to atone for his abnormally naughty behaviour the night before, Fing spent the entirity of last night huddled on his pillow, so close to me that at times his fur ended up right up my nostrils.
He laid next to me and purred.
He laid next to me and looked imperiously at the other pets as they mooched around the room and landing.
He attacked the other pets if they came too close to me.
He slept peacefully without so much of a hint of a scrapy paw.
He obviously didn't scare Trotter off with his actions, because we awoke with Trotter firmly ensconsced on the end of the bed and a lovely big poo on the floor next to the mirror.
He laid next to me and purred.
He laid next to me and looked imperiously at the other pets as they mooched around the room and landing.
He attacked the other pets if they came too close to me.
He slept peacefully without so much of a hint of a scrapy paw.
He obviously didn't scare Trotter off with his actions, because we awoke with Trotter firmly ensconsced on the end of the bed and a lovely big poo on the floor next to the mirror.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Why?
Fing was Fractious last night.
He sat and started at me from the side of the bed and refused to come and get on his pillow. He eyed me with disdain and stalked off fair bristling with annoyance.
I don't know what prompted this peeved demeanour but peeved the little bugger was.
He first woke me at 3 by attacking Tutz who was sound asleep on her scratchy pole and who really didn't deserve it.
He then sat and carefully streched to rattle my jewellery in its box, for which he was a rewarded with a warning 'Fing....' He turned and looked at me through slitted eyes like I was something he'd trod in and still had the residue on his paw, then turned and sat and watched me. I fell back to sleep, only to sit bolt upright in bed moments later when he pushed my National Geographic to the floor. He dissapeared through the cat flap in the bedroom door.
I tried to go back to sleep and was releived when I heard him slither back through the cat flap and jump onto the bed. At last! I thought, he is coming to bed. But no. He stood next to me and glared down into my face, then carefully turned round and sat down perfcetly aligned for his furiously lashing tail to switch across my face.
At this point I got up, defeated, and went downstairs to put some food out, but the boy was not to be appeased and spent the rest of the night stomping round the house upsetting the other pets and annoying me with his scraping.
I sometimes wonder what we have done to deserve our pets?
Take Trotter.
Trotter has taking his penchant for barking to a new stage and has decided that he doesn't really like it if you are sitting down and so stands and barks at you for long protracted sessions.
This has been bought on by Marth having some time off with her flu and having to lay on the sofa because she was too poorly to do anything else.
This has unsettled Trotter who is unused to seeing Martha prostate, so he is sharing his angst with continous barking, mainly directed at the table, the mop bucket and one chair. The barking usually lasts for an hour, after which he has taken to humping shoes for a short period before finally settling down behind Martha with his dinner bowl to recover.
I hope our new neighbour is a dog lover.
He sat and started at me from the side of the bed and refused to come and get on his pillow. He eyed me with disdain and stalked off fair bristling with annoyance.
I don't know what prompted this peeved demeanour but peeved the little bugger was.
He first woke me at 3 by attacking Tutz who was sound asleep on her scratchy pole and who really didn't deserve it.
He then sat and carefully streched to rattle my jewellery in its box, for which he was a rewarded with a warning 'Fing....' He turned and looked at me through slitted eyes like I was something he'd trod in and still had the residue on his paw, then turned and sat and watched me. I fell back to sleep, only to sit bolt upright in bed moments later when he pushed my National Geographic to the floor. He dissapeared through the cat flap in the bedroom door.
I tried to go back to sleep and was releived when I heard him slither back through the cat flap and jump onto the bed. At last! I thought, he is coming to bed. But no. He stood next to me and glared down into my face, then carefully turned round and sat down perfcetly aligned for his furiously lashing tail to switch across my face.
At this point I got up, defeated, and went downstairs to put some food out, but the boy was not to be appeased and spent the rest of the night stomping round the house upsetting the other pets and annoying me with his scraping.
I sometimes wonder what we have done to deserve our pets?
Take Trotter.
Trotter has taking his penchant for barking to a new stage and has decided that he doesn't really like it if you are sitting down and so stands and barks at you for long protracted sessions.
This has been bought on by Marth having some time off with her flu and having to lay on the sofa because she was too poorly to do anything else.
This has unsettled Trotter who is unused to seeing Martha prostate, so he is sharing his angst with continous barking, mainly directed at the table, the mop bucket and one chair. The barking usually lasts for an hour, after which he has taken to humping shoes for a short period before finally settling down behind Martha with his dinner bowl to recover.
I hope our new neighbour is a dog lover.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
