Christmas is fast approaching and the pets have been very busy indeed.
Trult Scumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west, has been baking leaving sweet and unimagingly delicious smells wafting around the house. Trotter could be found with his nose pressed up the the hot door of the oven, wondering what delights would appear.
Fat Boy Faggot has been to the town centre in his warm knitted scarf and purchased a beautiful red garland for above the mantle piece. Trotter watched from the sofa as Faggy carefully arranged baubles and boughs of holly and sparkeling lights in red and white.
The boy, Fing, gathered Tutz pocket money and helped her write a list, and took her into town to do her shopping. Trotter waited patiently on the bottom step near the front door for the pair to return with bulging bags of presents.
Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face has sat and made pomanders and today she is gently drying orange slices with cloves in the oven to make into decorations.
Trotters is sat watching Childrens TV.
Hw knows that Milly Pav and Fillipa Hole are coming to visit tomorrow night. He wonders what they will do and if he will be able to join in. He hopes that the evening will involve cheese, and perhaps a scotch egg. He gently drifts off into sleep thinking about presents and cake and twinkling lights, of plastic balls that you push with your nose so that the tasty treats hidden inside fall out occaisionally for you to eat.
Its beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
The Wonder!
Tutz has spent some time in the garden of late. She has waited for Trotter to be eating his breakfast and has craftily and quietly shot past him to the back door and out into the big blue yonder.
She will spend all day outside jumping after flies, or sitting on the fence where she can keep a look out for Marmalade, or the big black cat that no one likes.
She is particularly fond of sitting in Thelma's bush with Selby the Squirrel where they talk about things like great places to hide nuts.
She will sit on the bench and read the guardian, or sometimes a novel. She will lay on the bench in the sun and prooot to herself as she watches the fish in the pond.
But there comes a time in every cats day when hunger calls. So, usually about half 11 at night she begrudgingly comes in after about an hour of playing silly buggers and annoying everyone with her to-ing and fro-ing at the back door.
She will spend all day outside jumping after flies, or sitting on the fence where she can keep a look out for Marmalade, or the big black cat that no one likes.
She is particularly fond of sitting in Thelma's bush with Selby the Squirrel where they talk about things like great places to hide nuts.
She will sit on the bench and read the guardian, or sometimes a novel. She will lay on the bench in the sun and prooot to herself as she watches the fish in the pond.
But there comes a time in every cats day when hunger calls. So, usually about half 11 at night she begrudgingly comes in after about an hour of playing silly buggers and annoying everyone with her to-ing and fro-ing at the back door.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Ouchy
Fing went to the vets today.
He has been pissing, more than usual, on bags and soft furnishings. Dear god, last weekend he peed on the sockets.
I was a little bit concerned about his urination so took him to the vets, where they examined his small feline body and announced that his kidneys and bladder did not seem swollen and that there was no temperature to be had.
They asked if there had been change in his life, or a new cat on the scene, and said that he was probably just stressed.
The vet told me that cats find the smell of electrics soothing and that he was probably looking for comfort as he fused the house.
I don't know if there's an answer to this problem, but i'm planning to hang up my bags, hide my shoes in the loft and cover the plug sockets in masking tape.
He has been pissing, more than usual, on bags and soft furnishings. Dear god, last weekend he peed on the sockets.
I was a little bit concerned about his urination so took him to the vets, where they examined his small feline body and announced that his kidneys and bladder did not seem swollen and that there was no temperature to be had.
They asked if there had been change in his life, or a new cat on the scene, and said that he was probably just stressed.
The vet told me that cats find the smell of electrics soothing and that he was probably looking for comfort as he fused the house.
I don't know if there's an answer to this problem, but i'm planning to hang up my bags, hide my shoes in the loft and cover the plug sockets in masking tape.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Jamies Italian
Trotter and Fing have just returned from a slap up meal at Jamie's Italian.
They were invited originally to Jamie's birthday party by Fings good friend Dexter Fletcher, but Fing thought the noise and bustle and the glut of b list celebrities might prove too much for poor Trotters addled mind.
So Fing accepted a free meal on the Thursday night on their behalf instead.
Fing buffed himself up and brushed his fur and carefully tied a small bow tie around Trotters shabby neck before the walk into town.
The new restaurant was packed, and Trotter and Fing were led to a well placed table for two in the middle of the floor.
Fing ordered a peach Bellini and Trotter had a small stout with a cherry garnish.
The menu was exhaustive, and spoilt for choice Fing opted for squid as a starter while Trotter had the meat platter.
The starters were exemplary and the mains did not disappoint, Fing had king prawns slit in 2 with half a garlic and chili dressing with a small green salad while Trotter opted for a well done steak and chips.
To think it was only training week! The service was outstanding and the food to die for.
There was only one small mishap towards the end of the night when Trotter pissed up the leg of a pensioner on the way out.Disaster was averted when Fing blamed one of the waitresses and wispered 'You can't get the staff' as he sidled past, all beige fur and attitude.
Trotters is glad to be home. He hadn't felt comfortable in his bow tie and had had to take it off on the way home as it was making his neck ache.
So thank you to Dexter Fletcher and To Jamie Oliver for a perfectly splendid evening.
They were invited originally to Jamie's birthday party by Fings good friend Dexter Fletcher, but Fing thought the noise and bustle and the glut of b list celebrities might prove too much for poor Trotters addled mind.
So Fing accepted a free meal on the Thursday night on their behalf instead.
Fing buffed himself up and brushed his fur and carefully tied a small bow tie around Trotters shabby neck before the walk into town.
The new restaurant was packed, and Trotter and Fing were led to a well placed table for two in the middle of the floor.
Fing ordered a peach Bellini and Trotter had a small stout with a cherry garnish.
The menu was exhaustive, and spoilt for choice Fing opted for squid as a starter while Trotter had the meat platter.
The starters were exemplary and the mains did not disappoint, Fing had king prawns slit in 2 with half a garlic and chili dressing with a small green salad while Trotter opted for a well done steak and chips.
To think it was only training week! The service was outstanding and the food to die for.
There was only one small mishap towards the end of the night when Trotter pissed up the leg of a pensioner on the way out.Disaster was averted when Fing blamed one of the waitresses and wispered 'You can't get the staff' as he sidled past, all beige fur and attitude.
Trotters is glad to be home. He hadn't felt comfortable in his bow tie and had had to take it off on the way home as it was making his neck ache.
So thank you to Dexter Fletcher and To Jamie Oliver for a perfectly splendid evening.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
saturdAY
Tomorrow is Saturday and my brother and niece are descending upong us.
I've been eating feta cheese and mixed peppers that my good friends Dean and Milan made for me.
God alone knows what tomorrow may bring.
I've been eating feta cheese and mixed peppers that my good friends Dean and Milan made for me.
God alone knows what tomorrow may bring.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Gardening
It was a happy weekend for Martha who visited several garden centres and purchased new pots and bedding plants and compost.
Her first visit was on Saturday when Filipa took Martha to Homebase and Wyevale. She purchased Bizzie Lizzies a tomato plant and five small Ghost Koi for the pond.
Unfortunately Kiri, Kiri, Kiri, The Orphan, Mute Boy and myself had been up all night tripping the light fantastic and as a result had lost the use of most of our limbs and were blatantly incoherent.
So when the troop departed and Martha got me out into the garden I was neither use nor ornament. Every time she sent me into the house to do something I forgot what I was doing and would appear half an hour later with completely the wrong thing.
When Martha gave me the bag of Ghost Koi it appeared to have nothing in it, but I thought that was a by product of the night before, so I just poured the water in and said nothing. I'm not sure if there was anything actually in there because we havent seen them since.
Ironically he who should have been most hindrance turned out to be the most help.
Trotter escaped into the garden due to one of my aimless meanderings and rushed full of deranged excitement towards the new bag of compost, only to be suddenly distracted by a bag of bizzie lizzies instead. The boy pounced. I had him by the collar while Martha wrestled with the bag, we wrestled and Trotter tugged.
All of a sudden the little plants popped, one by one, out of their plastic container and I fell over backwards with Trotter.
Martha said I was bloody useless and sent me to bed, and gave Trotter a pat on the head to thank him for getting the notoriously difficult to remove plants from the container.
Her first visit was on Saturday when Filipa took Martha to Homebase and Wyevale. She purchased Bizzie Lizzies a tomato plant and five small Ghost Koi for the pond.
Unfortunately Kiri, Kiri, Kiri, The Orphan, Mute Boy and myself had been up all night tripping the light fantastic and as a result had lost the use of most of our limbs and were blatantly incoherent.
So when the troop departed and Martha got me out into the garden I was neither use nor ornament. Every time she sent me into the house to do something I forgot what I was doing and would appear half an hour later with completely the wrong thing.
When Martha gave me the bag of Ghost Koi it appeared to have nothing in it, but I thought that was a by product of the night before, so I just poured the water in and said nothing. I'm not sure if there was anything actually in there because we havent seen them since.
Ironically he who should have been most hindrance turned out to be the most help.
Trotter escaped into the garden due to one of my aimless meanderings and rushed full of deranged excitement towards the new bag of compost, only to be suddenly distracted by a bag of bizzie lizzies instead. The boy pounced. I had him by the collar while Martha wrestled with the bag, we wrestled and Trotter tugged.
All of a sudden the little plants popped, one by one, out of their plastic container and I fell over backwards with Trotter.
Martha said I was bloody useless and sent me to bed, and gave Trotter a pat on the head to thank him for getting the notoriously difficult to remove plants from the container.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
hello
] n][=we were experiencing problems.
Daniel is the dj.(orphan)
Andi is upstairs.+O(this shoulode=q==
Phill.
My Boy Fing.
Kiri,Kiri, Kiri+O(ki=oeloloy+O)+O =OMU+OT+OE boy mute boy
and me X (+EEE++)
its beyond me
And here is vladimir fishcake the 3rd
Daniel is the dj.(orphan)
Andi is upstairs.+O(this shoulode=q==
Phill.
My Boy Fing.
Kiri,Kiri, Kiri+O(ki=oeloloy+O)+O =OMU+OT+OE boy mute boy
and me X (+EEE++)
its beyond me
And here is vladimir fishcake the 3rd
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Nice
I became aware that Martha was staring at me intently.
'What!?!' i cried,
'One of your eyes looks different to the other' she advised, then continued with the unsettling staring.
'Maybe your face has always been lop sided but i've never noticed it until now'
Well, thanks for that Martha.
'What!?!' i cried,
'One of your eyes looks different to the other' she advised, then continued with the unsettling staring.
'Maybe your face has always been lop sided but i've never noticed it until now'
Well, thanks for that Martha.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
42
Trotter has spent the day thinking.
He doesn't think of much as we know, most of his time is spent pondering single questions such as
'When will Martha be home?'
'How much urine have i got in my bladder, as it seems quite a lot and i don't know if that's normal for such a small shabby dog'
'.................'
'What am i actually thinking about?'
Today he has been wondering why the gate has fallen off and if it had anything to do with him, as he is quite certain that whether it has or not, he will somehow get the blame.
After a day of deep thought he decided to push the mood lamp off the side in front of us when we got home so to be sure he got the blame for exactley the right thing.
He doesn't think of much as we know, most of his time is spent pondering single questions such as
'When will Martha be home?'
'How much urine have i got in my bladder, as it seems quite a lot and i don't know if that's normal for such a small shabby dog'
'.................'
'What am i actually thinking about?'
Today he has been wondering why the gate has fallen off and if it had anything to do with him, as he is quite certain that whether it has or not, he will somehow get the blame.
After a day of deep thought he decided to push the mood lamp off the side in front of us when we got home so to be sure he got the blame for exactley the right thing.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Sadness
It is with great sadness that we report the death of one of the neighbourhood Street Ducks, who was spotted by Martha as she went to work this morning.
His tiny mangled body was to be seen under the 'Preachers Lane' sign as you left the estate.
By the time I left the estate another drake was sat by the body, as if guarding it from further harm.
It was with great horror that we discover that it was the mate of Varnes longstanding frien, the small brown duck, who pops in for bread and will come into the house and sit in the hall given half a chance.
She quacked inconsolably into the early hours of the morning, but as hard as she tried, couldn't wake him back up again.
R.I.P. Street Drake. May your heaven have rivers enough for all.
His tiny mangled body was to be seen under the 'Preachers Lane' sign as you left the estate.
By the time I left the estate another drake was sat by the body, as if guarding it from further harm.
It was with great horror that we discover that it was the mate of Varnes longstanding frien, the small brown duck, who pops in for bread and will come into the house and sit in the hall given half a chance.
She quacked inconsolably into the early hours of the morning, but as hard as she tried, couldn't wake him back up again.
R.I.P. Street Drake. May your heaven have rivers enough for all.
UP
Tonight we would like to applaud Nellie, a hearing dog for the deaf, who saved her deaf owner and two children from molestation in a B & B in Stafford.
Gill Houghten, 48, was fast asleep at the B & B with her two children when all of a sudden Nellie jumped onto the bed, waking her up, she then laid down, indicating something was wrong.
Gill turned to find a drunken man in the doorway of her room, approaching with menaces.
Nellie leapt inbetween the intruder and her family and stood her ground until the man backed off.
Quite rightly, Nellie has been named Dog of the Month by the charity Hearing Dogs for the Deaf.
Well done Nellie!
Gill Houghten, 48, was fast asleep at the B & B with her two children when all of a sudden Nellie jumped onto the bed, waking her up, she then laid down, indicating something was wrong.
Gill turned to find a drunken man in the doorway of her room, approaching with menaces.
Nellie leapt inbetween the intruder and her family and stood her ground until the man backed off.
Quite rightly, Nellie has been named Dog of the Month by the charity Hearing Dogs for the Deaf.
Well done Nellie!
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Bag
I'm afraid that Fing has seriously let the side down today.
Martha returned from work and left her jacket and her bag on the side while she immediately started to prepare the dogs dinner.
In the space of time it took to defrost the dinner and serve it to Trotter and Truly Lu, Fing went to toilet in her bag.
How he contained so much urine is a mystery, Martha said it was like a tsunami. The bag was full, there was a puddle in the middle of the jacket and the urine was dripping over the edge to the floor.
I can't imagine what must of happened today to upset him so, but Martha has had to throw away her bag and Fing is sulking underneath the table.
She's had a bit of a problem with bags recently, why, only the other week she forgot that she had a container of frozen dog food in her bag and discovered at work the next morning that it had defrosted, leaving the bag full of chicken casserole.
That bag too had to be thrown away.
So, it seems to be related to the dog food. I would offer to lend her a new bag, but with her track record its asking for trouble.
Martha returned from work and left her jacket and her bag on the side while she immediately started to prepare the dogs dinner.
In the space of time it took to defrost the dinner and serve it to Trotter and Truly Lu, Fing went to toilet in her bag.
How he contained so much urine is a mystery, Martha said it was like a tsunami. The bag was full, there was a puddle in the middle of the jacket and the urine was dripping over the edge to the floor.
I can't imagine what must of happened today to upset him so, but Martha has had to throw away her bag and Fing is sulking underneath the table.
She's had a bit of a problem with bags recently, why, only the other week she forgot that she had a container of frozen dog food in her bag and discovered at work the next morning that it had defrosted, leaving the bag full of chicken casserole.
That bag too had to be thrown away.
So, it seems to be related to the dog food. I would offer to lend her a new bag, but with her track record its asking for trouble.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Result
Oh! I forgot to tell you that the professional lino men were hot totty. They arrived all broad shouldered and bearing tool boxes and skinheads.
I nearly had palpitations but Trotter wasn't impressed as I made him sit on the stairs with me until they had finished, and by god, what a fabulous job they did!
Of course, it will only be a matter of time before the room is Trotterised but at the moment its like we've moved into a show home, or squatted some one else's house while they are away on holiday.
I nearly had palpitations but Trotter wasn't impressed as I made him sit on the stairs with me until they had finished, and by god, what a fabulous job they did!
Of course, it will only be a matter of time before the room is Trotterised but at the moment its like we've moved into a show home, or squatted some one else's house while they are away on holiday.
So long, and thanks for all the fish
'Who's that funny looking woman on your computer?' asked Martha
'It's me' I replied
'It's me' I replied
Friday, April 11, 2008
Warning!
This is a warning to everyone!
Do not be complacent!
There is a Street Duck near you waiting for you to leave the house so he can break in and make off with your bread and soft furnishings!
This is a warning!
I found this drake outside Varnes front door where he had been busking with a banjo and tap dancing. All of it a ruse to distract Varne, so as soon as she left to go up town he could whip in and help himself to tea and cake.
Street Ducks are nefarious by nature!
Street Ducks are devilishly deviant!
Street Ducks do not wade into water!
Street Ducks will take the shoes off your feet, the clothes off your back and will shit in your front yard for good measure!
This has been a Street Duck warning from the institute of moral turpitude.
Lino Day P2
As we wait for the lino man to arrive I find myself on the 5th step of the stairs with Truly Lu on the 2nd, Trotter on the 3rd, Fing on the 7th and Giggsey Girl on the 6th.
Pet jam on the stairs! Alert! Pet jam!
There is, unfortunately, no where else to sit.
We have an ETA of half an hour.
Lino day P1
Well, we couldn't have picked a better day for lino day.
The last 3 days have been a sunny delight of warmth and the promise of spring. As I type, the 3 seater sofa is in the back garden and hailstones as big as your head are crashing down smashing the pot plants and wrecking everything.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west, has cobbled together a protective cover for the sofa using black bin bags and masking tape. As the lino hasn't been laid yet we wont be able to determine its effectiveness until much later.
Trotter and Fat Boy Faggot moved the temporary greenhouse to the bottom of the garden in order for Fly and Myself to move the 3 seater outside. While the lovely little temporary structure has weathered all the storms of winter in the security of the back porch, 5 minutes in the open air has left it collapsed at the bottom of the garden like a giant mutant jellyfish has found its way into te back garden and died with the confusion of it all.
I'm sitting here on the 2 seater, which we have temporarily left inside, with Truly Lu on one side and Trotter on the other. I presume the cats are seeking sanctuary in the luxury of the upstairs because at the moment it feels like I'm sitting in an up market squat.
I say the lino hasn't been laid yet, the man hasn't even arrived yet.
The last 3 days have been a sunny delight of warmth and the promise of spring. As I type, the 3 seater sofa is in the back garden and hailstones as big as your head are crashing down smashing the pot plants and wrecking everything.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west, has cobbled together a protective cover for the sofa using black bin bags and masking tape. As the lino hasn't been laid yet we wont be able to determine its effectiveness until much later.
Trotter and Fat Boy Faggot moved the temporary greenhouse to the bottom of the garden in order for Fly and Myself to move the 3 seater outside. While the lovely little temporary structure has weathered all the storms of winter in the security of the back porch, 5 minutes in the open air has left it collapsed at the bottom of the garden like a giant mutant jellyfish has found its way into te back garden and died with the confusion of it all.
I'm sitting here on the 2 seater, which we have temporarily left inside, with Truly Lu on one side and Trotter on the other. I presume the cats are seeking sanctuary in the luxury of the upstairs because at the moment it feels like I'm sitting in an up market squat.
I say the lino hasn't been laid yet, the man hasn't even arrived yet.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Lino day
There is great activity in the house as on fRiday proffesional men are coming to lay lino for us. Actually, that sounds a bit wierd, almost as if men in suits with bowler hats on and carrying suitcases are ariving to grapple with the 20 foot long piece of lino.
I meant that for once we are doing something properly, and have hired men who lay lino for a living to come round and do it for us.
It would appear that Varne and I have been denied a 'lino' day.
But anyway, as i type Fing is sitting on top of the Christmas decoration chest and is discussing where to put everything from the sitting room with Trotter.
Trotter has no spacial awareness and doesn't really understand what the problem is.
'You don't understand Trotter', Fing says in a patient voice, 'we must find space in the rest of the house for everything in the sitting room'
'Wont it all fit in the bathroom?' asks Trotter witha look of confusion written all over his face in indelible marker pen.
'Well, considering it took 6 people to get one sofa into the sitting room, via the window, after cutting down the fence with a chain saw, i'm not convinced the afternoon will run smoothly' Fing replies.
Trotter wonders what a chain saw is and Fing quietly despairs.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face sits with her back to the room, staring out the window, oblivious of the pending confusion and chaos
I meant that for once we are doing something properly, and have hired men who lay lino for a living to come round and do it for us.
It would appear that Varne and I have been denied a 'lino' day.
But anyway, as i type Fing is sitting on top of the Christmas decoration chest and is discussing where to put everything from the sitting room with Trotter.
Trotter has no spacial awareness and doesn't really understand what the problem is.
'You don't understand Trotter', Fing says in a patient voice, 'we must find space in the rest of the house for everything in the sitting room'
'Wont it all fit in the bathroom?' asks Trotter witha look of confusion written all over his face in indelible marker pen.
'Well, considering it took 6 people to get one sofa into the sitting room, via the window, after cutting down the fence with a chain saw, i'm not convinced the afternoon will run smoothly' Fing replies.
Trotter wonders what a chain saw is and Fing quietly despairs.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face sits with her back to the room, staring out the window, oblivious of the pending confusion and chaos
The return
It is the time of year.
From every where, Street Ducks are emerging.
One wonders where they spend the winter as there are just so many of them.
Quacking at you as you walk the dogs. Peering at you from the trees and in bushes and on top of walls.
There was even a Street Duck queing outside the Carling Academy this morning, presumably to spend his giro on tickets to see the Fuzzyducks.
Varnes annual visiting Street Ducks have been stood quacking with menaces outside her front door and have been foraging for scraps in the bins.
Is it world domination they want?
Frankly, i'm scared.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
What?
Trotter is terribly bored.
the security gate is closed so he is unable to go upstairs to pick a shoe to chew.
Everything he has tried to chew or hump has been forcibly taken from him and put somewhere high in a safe place.
Lara is on Facebook, Martha is reading a thriller novel, Lulu is asleep on her cushion underneath the coffee table.
There is nothing to do except watch channel 4 news and thats all gloom and doom.
What is a boy to do?
the security gate is closed so he is unable to go upstairs to pick a shoe to chew.
Everything he has tried to chew or hump has been forcibly taken from him and put somewhere high in a safe place.
Lara is on Facebook, Martha is reading a thriller novel, Lulu is asleep on her cushion underneath the coffee table.
There is nothing to do except watch channel 4 news and thats all gloom and doom.
What is a boy to do?
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Barber shop
Now, I've been meaning to tell you about Tutz.
Tutz has taken to combing my hair when I'm laying in bed and half asleep.
Sometimes this is incredibly soothing as she sits behind me and runs her delicate paw, claws slightly extended, through my hair all the while happily saying 'proot' to herself, quite quietly, in case Trotter should hear and chase her off the bed.
There is only one small problem.
Sometimes she becomes a bit giddy with her combing and suddenly all a bit excitable. It is at times like this she can suddenly loose control of her claws and suddenly lash you round the back of the head and have you scalp open. So it is a bit of a double edged sword I'm afraid.
To be honest I wouldn't recommend you try it at home.
Tutz has taken to combing my hair when I'm laying in bed and half asleep.
Sometimes this is incredibly soothing as she sits behind me and runs her delicate paw, claws slightly extended, through my hair all the while happily saying 'proot' to herself, quite quietly, in case Trotter should hear and chase her off the bed.
There is only one small problem.
Sometimes she becomes a bit giddy with her combing and suddenly all a bit excitable. It is at times like this she can suddenly loose control of her claws and suddenly lash you round the back of the head and have you scalp open. So it is a bit of a double edged sword I'm afraid.
To be honest I wouldn't recommend you try it at home.
Requiem
It was a very sad moment when we admitted defeat with the ailing goldfish and decided to put it out of its misery.
Filipa and I discussed the best method to dispatch the poor fish and decided a swift knife round the back of the head was the most humane and hygienic as clubbing him to death may leave a mess on the patio.
So Filipa donned a rubber glove and took a chopping knife and went into the garden and did the dirty deed and wrapped him up in kitchen roll like fish and chips gone horrifically wrong.
We then discussed what to do with his body as Martha is planning extensive change in the garden, meaning a burial was out of the question, and tossing his body into the bins seemed rather unfaithful and cold.
It was Martha who suggested a watery grave so Filipa and I went down to the river. Filipa decided that a 'Titanic' theme might be the order of the day and mounted the bars and spread her arms in a sad parody of Kate Winslet.
I took the tiny body from its wrapping and said,
'Dear God. Please accept this body back into the the water from whence he came', then dropped him into the water, where it slowly meandered off downstream like a sparkly jewel in the murky waters.
'for though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death I shall fear no evil' I said, then helped Filipa down from the bars. We said a hail Mary and bowed our heads then went home for a cup of tea.
It was as Filipa was leaving that she turned round and said, 'Honey, you see how I am? I've killed the goldfish and i've carpeted the stairs. You're turning me into a man!'
Filipa and I discussed the best method to dispatch the poor fish and decided a swift knife round the back of the head was the most humane and hygienic as clubbing him to death may leave a mess on the patio.
So Filipa donned a rubber glove and took a chopping knife and went into the garden and did the dirty deed and wrapped him up in kitchen roll like fish and chips gone horrifically wrong.
We then discussed what to do with his body as Martha is planning extensive change in the garden, meaning a burial was out of the question, and tossing his body into the bins seemed rather unfaithful and cold.
It was Martha who suggested a watery grave so Filipa and I went down to the river. Filipa decided that a 'Titanic' theme might be the order of the day and mounted the bars and spread her arms in a sad parody of Kate Winslet.
I took the tiny body from its wrapping and said,
'Dear God. Please accept this body back into the the water from whence he came', then dropped him into the water, where it slowly meandered off downstream like a sparkly jewel in the murky waters.
'for though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death I shall fear no evil' I said, then helped Filipa down from the bars. We said a hail Mary and bowed our heads then went home for a cup of tea.
It was as Filipa was leaving that she turned round and said, 'Honey, you see how I am? I've killed the goldfish and i've carpeted the stairs. You're turning me into a man!'
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Oh Dear
The master carpenters Fly and Mr Cod are now deassembling the unit for the 3rd time.
Fing has been watching from in front of the tv with a sceptical eye.
Trotters has finally lost it after 3 hours of inept assembly and is howling like a wolf while attempting a kind of canine tap dance.
The fish is still in the saucepan.
Fing has been watching from in front of the tv with a sceptical eye.
Trotters has finally lost it after 3 hours of inept assembly and is howling like a wolf while attempting a kind of canine tap dance.
The fish is still in the saucepan.
Angst
I spent 2 hours writing an entry about the weekend on Sunday only to have the fekking site collapse under the strain.
Today Mr Cod and Fly are assembling the new TV stand.
James and I have been consulting the great Oracle, Google, for advice on poorly pond fish. One of the fish has been swimming around in a distressed aimless fashion for the last 4 days with a bit of a gammy eye.
Well, you'll be amazed what pond fish can suffer from, they can get Dropsy and cloudy eye and fin rot and bacterial infections and lice and parasites and everything. To be honest we were a bit spoilt for choice and after careful inspection we were none the wiser. So we just hooked it into a saucepan and sprinkled in some salt and are hoping for the best.
Today Mr Cod and Fly are assembling the new TV stand.
James and I have been consulting the great Oracle, Google, for advice on poorly pond fish. One of the fish has been swimming around in a distressed aimless fashion for the last 4 days with a bit of a gammy eye.
Well, you'll be amazed what pond fish can suffer from, they can get Dropsy and cloudy eye and fin rot and bacterial infections and lice and parasites and everything. To be honest we were a bit spoilt for choice and after careful inspection we were none the wiser. So we just hooked it into a saucepan and sprinkled in some salt and are hoping for the best.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
FOUND!
It is the evening after the weekend before.
I swore blind i wouldn't go the Pimps and Whores night, but being a hooker at heart I couldn't resist.
Lorna was in black PVC, Claire had just stepped out of the old wilde west and I looked like a crack whore in drag. We ended up at the Gate, then the Coven. It was at the Coven that the Eccentric said to me, 'well, she might have a hedgehog, but has she got a concubine? It was a valid question that deserved an answer, but unfortunately the answer escaped me. I left the club in a state of confusion and walked home with the Corpse Bride. Orpan ( who had had a major ruckas and had been expelled from the club for approximately two hours) and Mute Boy arrived unannounced at mine and we stayed up all night drinking coffee and eating cake. Around 7 the next morning Filipa and the Ringmaster arrived sporting attractive hangovers and white wine.
When they arrived the Orphan and Mute Boy were is several states of disarray but they threw caution to the wind and preserved. around nine o'clock we composed ourselves and lurched up to Sainsburys to buy provisions for Marthas birthday. We wheeled around with the shopping trolley like 'Dancing on Ice', but without sequinned body stockings. It should have been ok but we got to the till and no one had any cash on them, in fact, most of us had left credit cards in weird places all over the house. Thankfully Mute Boy came up top trumps with his student loan and the five of us lurched home with £85 worth of snacks.
we arrived back to the Lane, cracked open the vodka and helped ourselves to liberal bloody marys as the Ringmaser rubbed marinade to dismembered chicken parts.
Now you might think it would have turned into a normal mash up but for the fact I had relatives over from America. Not just normal relatives. No. He's a renowned professor of nuclear physics and she is the director of the science department of the university of California. If it weren't for Trotter pissing up the trouser leg of infinity, i swear we would have nothing in common.
So they arrive to find the Orphan and Mute Boy pretending to be normal, sat with backs like ram rods on the sofa as the Ringmaster weaved his magic wand and very politely spoke with great charm and confidence. All was going quite well until filipa appeared from upstairs from where she had been taking a proper whitey and announced 'Honey, I'm hanging out of my fucking arse'. My Aunts eyes grew as wide as saucers and my uncle coughed politely into his beard. The Ringmaster decided, somewhat prudently, to take the poor sick boy home.
And so i spent three hours in purgatory with the rellies and Martha trotting over town. We went to the top of Jerico, to Smiths and Boots and Boots and Marks and Sparked and Thorntons and Primark. At that point I pleaded a loose bladder and shot off home for help.
I swear down the Orphan had been busy! He's whipped up a potato salad and had tidied the entire house while the Mute watched on from the sofa. I got back and we cooked for six hours. It probably would have been quicker but we forgot to switch on the oven. We made slaw and vegetable batons, prawn cocktail and a green salad, couscous, grissini, the Ringmasters marinaded dismembered chicken, half a side of Ham and some pickles.Then we sat and waited.
Our Good Friend Milly Pav arrived first, all a bit militant, and then it was like the little boy had removed his finger the dam. Before you could say 'BOO' to a goose and Fridge, Redcar, the Student, the Hairdresser, SAS, Mrs Warboise, Varne, Fly, Mr Cod and the Fuckwits turned up on mass.
Without saying, it degenerated into madness. Milan was erottering, Varne had her tits out. There was quite a special moment when i pulled out a small tray of plastic ice cubes from the freezer in the shape of fruit. The fuckwit Dean thought I was handing out a tray of frozen fruit and took one the cleanse his palate. I watched him as he sucked the fruit shaped ice cube wondering if he was just being a bit a peculiar and suggestive, sucking the fake lemon in out out of his mouth. To be fair, everyone was watching, but it wasn't until he tried to eat the fucking thing that everyone leaped in and shouted,
'NOOOOOOoooooooooo!!!!!!!!'
Except for our good friend Milly Pav who was nimbling around singing, 'Erotic! Erotic, put you hands all over my body!', Martha said, 'if you don't stop that soon I'm going to smack you all your body!
But that was last night and I'm being told off for taking hours to type, but being the evening after the weekend before, but what do you expect?
I swore blind i wouldn't go the Pimps and Whores night, but being a hooker at heart I couldn't resist.
Lorna was in black PVC, Claire had just stepped out of the old wilde west and I looked like a crack whore in drag. We ended up at the Gate, then the Coven. It was at the Coven that the Eccentric said to me, 'well, she might have a hedgehog, but has she got a concubine? It was a valid question that deserved an answer, but unfortunately the answer escaped me. I left the club in a state of confusion and walked home with the Corpse Bride. Orpan ( who had had a major ruckas and had been expelled from the club for approximately two hours) and Mute Boy arrived unannounced at mine and we stayed up all night drinking coffee and eating cake. Around 7 the next morning Filipa and the Ringmaster arrived sporting attractive hangovers and white wine.
When they arrived the Orphan and Mute Boy were is several states of disarray but they threw caution to the wind and preserved. around nine o'clock we composed ourselves and lurched up to Sainsburys to buy provisions for Marthas birthday. We wheeled around with the shopping trolley like 'Dancing on Ice', but without sequinned body stockings. It should have been ok but we got to the till and no one had any cash on them, in fact, most of us had left credit cards in weird places all over the house. Thankfully Mute Boy came up top trumps with his student loan and the five of us lurched home with £85 worth of snacks.
we arrived back to the Lane, cracked open the vodka and helped ourselves to liberal bloody marys as the Ringmaser rubbed marinade to dismembered chicken parts.
Now you might think it would have turned into a normal mash up but for the fact I had relatives over from America. Not just normal relatives. No. He's a renowned professor of nuclear physics and she is the director of the science department of the university of California. If it weren't for Trotter pissing up the trouser leg of infinity, i swear we would have nothing in common.
So they arrive to find the Orphan and Mute Boy pretending to be normal, sat with backs like ram rods on the sofa as the Ringmaster weaved his magic wand and very politely spoke with great charm and confidence. All was going quite well until filipa appeared from upstairs from where she had been taking a proper whitey and announced 'Honey, I'm hanging out of my fucking arse'. My Aunts eyes grew as wide as saucers and my uncle coughed politely into his beard. The Ringmaster decided, somewhat prudently, to take the poor sick boy home.
And so i spent three hours in purgatory with the rellies and Martha trotting over town. We went to the top of Jerico, to Smiths and Boots and Boots and Marks and Sparked and Thorntons and Primark. At that point I pleaded a loose bladder and shot off home for help.
I swear down the Orphan had been busy! He's whipped up a potato salad and had tidied the entire house while the Mute watched on from the sofa. I got back and we cooked for six hours. It probably would have been quicker but we forgot to switch on the oven. We made slaw and vegetable batons, prawn cocktail and a green salad, couscous, grissini, the Ringmasters marinaded dismembered chicken, half a side of Ham and some pickles.Then we sat and waited.
Our Good Friend Milly Pav arrived first, all a bit militant, and then it was like the little boy had removed his finger the dam. Before you could say 'BOO' to a goose and Fridge, Redcar, the Student, the Hairdresser, SAS, Mrs Warboise, Varne, Fly, Mr Cod and the Fuckwits turned up on mass.
Without saying, it degenerated into madness. Milan was erottering, Varne had her tits out. There was quite a special moment when i pulled out a small tray of plastic ice cubes from the freezer in the shape of fruit. The fuckwit Dean thought I was handing out a tray of frozen fruit and took one the cleanse his palate. I watched him as he sucked the fruit shaped ice cube wondering if he was just being a bit a peculiar and suggestive, sucking the fake lemon in out out of his mouth. To be fair, everyone was watching, but it wasn't until he tried to eat the fucking thing that everyone leaped in and shouted,
'NOOOOOOoooooooooo!!!!!!!!'
Except for our good friend Milly Pav who was nimbling around singing, 'Erotic! Erotic, put you hands all over my body!', Martha said, 'if you don't stop that soon I'm going to smack you all your body!
But that was last night and I'm being told off for taking hours to type, but being the evening after the weekend before, but what do you expect?
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Bite one, get one free
Theres 2 hours till d-day. My american aunt and uncle are poping round for a cup of cha and some nonsensical chat.
I wouldnt mind, but he's a reknowned profesor of nuclear physics and shes the director of the science project for the university of california.
I wouldnt mind, but he's a reknowned profesor of nuclear physics and shes the director of the science project for the university of california.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Carpet Day
I have neglected to mention that Carpet Day has come and been!
Some time ago I mentioned our visit to Carpet Right and the off cut of carpet for the stairs. Since then there has been a hive of activity. Varne and Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west, unrolled the off cut and measured the stairs, all the while with Trotter watching with a keen eye and slavering lip through the security gate.
Fing sat on the top step and shouted instructions to Varne, who muttered 'fuck off you pussy little bitch' under her breath and carried on stapling the carpet to the stairs.
Within the course of an afternoon each step was carpeted and the creak of the steps gone!
The following day Filipa arrived in her love wagon and took the girls up to Wickes to buy beading to finish off the job.
On arrival home Fillipa cut the batons into pieces and was given the job of painting them with wood stain in Varnes hallway, on top of the freezer underneath the stairs. Varne carefully laid down newspaper and Fillipa carefully and diligently painted all the wooden strips before sitting down for a cup of tea and a slice of cake.
Half an hour later Varne said, 'lets have a look at those strips then', so Fillipa went to the hall and came back and unravelled the wood/ newspaper combination to reveal he had, unwittingly, made a set of concertina blinds completely by accident. He then had to spend an hour picking all the bits of wood off the paper before they could be nailed in to place. I could be wrong but I imagine Varne may have used the word 'Cuntstruck' at some point during this period.
But all this aside, and a further trip to Wickes on Good FRiday has resulted in the stairs being loving finished in a wonderful, some may say cobbled, fashion.
Some time ago I mentioned our visit to Carpet Right and the off cut of carpet for the stairs. Since then there has been a hive of activity. Varne and Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west, unrolled the off cut and measured the stairs, all the while with Trotter watching with a keen eye and slavering lip through the security gate.
Fing sat on the top step and shouted instructions to Varne, who muttered 'fuck off you pussy little bitch' under her breath and carried on stapling the carpet to the stairs.
Within the course of an afternoon each step was carpeted and the creak of the steps gone!
The following day Filipa arrived in her love wagon and took the girls up to Wickes to buy beading to finish off the job.
On arrival home Fillipa cut the batons into pieces and was given the job of painting them with wood stain in Varnes hallway, on top of the freezer underneath the stairs. Varne carefully laid down newspaper and Fillipa carefully and diligently painted all the wooden strips before sitting down for a cup of tea and a slice of cake.
Half an hour later Varne said, 'lets have a look at those strips then', so Fillipa went to the hall and came back and unravelled the wood/ newspaper combination to reveal he had, unwittingly, made a set of concertina blinds completely by accident. He then had to spend an hour picking all the bits of wood off the paper before they could be nailed in to place. I could be wrong but I imagine Varne may have used the word 'Cuntstruck' at some point during this period.
But all this aside, and a further trip to Wickes on Good FRiday has resulted in the stairs being loving finished in a wonderful, some may say cobbled, fashion.
Shiny, Shiny, Shiny
But not boots of leather. No.
On Saturday, before my sudden ailment and propensity to abrupt falls, our good friend Milly Pav came round for Tea. It was not before long however that the Fuckwits, Dean and Nikki, were on the phone. They were in the Jolly Farmers with the Orphan and Mute Boy (Have you been introduced?)and demanded our immediate presence.
To begin with we were rather unamused at the interruption, but as we are made of sterner stuff we made our way through the bleak mid winter weather and joined them at the pub.
Now, Dean, Nikki, Orphan and Mute Boy had been on it all night and as a result were as lively as corpses, occasionally talking complete shite, and sometimes some sense. Eryc arrived and we left the bitter cold garden and made the snug our own.
Our good friend Milly Pav decided that entertainment was the order of the day and proceeded to dance in a lively fashion whilst singing 'Erotic, erotic, rub your hands all over my body!'. He raised his leg onto the table and rubbed it suggestively then capered off to rub himself up and down the wall, all the while singing 'Erotic! Erotic', I really had never seen such a fine example of erottering.
'He'll be laughing in the morning', muttered Dean, 'last time he did that we had to fish out the Deep Heat'.
Erotic indeed.
On Saturday, before my sudden ailment and propensity to abrupt falls, our good friend Milly Pav came round for Tea. It was not before long however that the Fuckwits, Dean and Nikki, were on the phone. They were in the Jolly Farmers with the Orphan and Mute Boy (Have you been introduced?)and demanded our immediate presence.
To begin with we were rather unamused at the interruption, but as we are made of sterner stuff we made our way through the bleak mid winter weather and joined them at the pub.
Now, Dean, Nikki, Orphan and Mute Boy had been on it all night and as a result were as lively as corpses, occasionally talking complete shite, and sometimes some sense. Eryc arrived and we left the bitter cold garden and made the snug our own.
Our good friend Milly Pav decided that entertainment was the order of the day and proceeded to dance in a lively fashion whilst singing 'Erotic, erotic, rub your hands all over my body!'. He raised his leg onto the table and rubbed it suggestively then capered off to rub himself up and down the wall, all the while singing 'Erotic! Erotic', I really had never seen such a fine example of erottering.
'He'll be laughing in the morning', muttered Dean, 'last time he did that we had to fish out the Deep Heat'.
Erotic indeed.
Self
I must apologise for the lack of transmission. I have rather unfortunately been struck down with Labyrinthitis. This does not, as the name may suggest, involve David Bowie in extremely tight leggings popping round to sing to you while hobgoblins dance in the grate. No. What is does involve is sudden attacks of vertigo and spontaneously falling to the floor which, while it may look rather spectacular, is actually profoundly ouchy upon contact with the ground. As a result I have been erring on the side of caution and have been walking around very slowly making sure there's always something to grab hold off just in case of an attack of dropsy.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Eyes
When i told Varne about Trotters failing sight she said
'its alright, we'll take him to specsavers'
'its alright, we'll take him to specsavers'
Guest pet of the week
Name: Midge
Age: 8
Lives: Northway, Oxford
Distinguishing Features: Rotund body and squinty eyes
Likes: Sitting as close to you as possible and whining in your face
Dislikes: Being ignored
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Vet
Trotter has suffered a horrific ordeal tonight.
He has been to the vet. As you may be aware we have been becoming increasingly concerned about Trotters behaviour and as his pheromone collar no longer works, our options were castration or hard drugs to calm his frayed nerves.
But there has been a turnaround at the vets and Mr Forbes could not give me a prescription or a constructive suggestion and has decided he must consult some 'experts' before he can complete his diagnosis.
He fears that Trotter may be going blind.
This is a different ball game entirely of course, and may be accounting for his increased aggression as he may be relying on his hearing and too much stimulation may be leaving him confused and frightened.
It has left us all feeling rather shaken as the future is less than certain.
Trotter of course is completely impervious to this and is happily eating one of my slippers next to me on the sofa.
I'm too upset to stop him.
He has been to the vet. As you may be aware we have been becoming increasingly concerned about Trotters behaviour and as his pheromone collar no longer works, our options were castration or hard drugs to calm his frayed nerves.
But there has been a turnaround at the vets and Mr Forbes could not give me a prescription or a constructive suggestion and has decided he must consult some 'experts' before he can complete his diagnosis.
He fears that Trotter may be going blind.
This is a different ball game entirely of course, and may be accounting for his increased aggression as he may be relying on his hearing and too much stimulation may be leaving him confused and frightened.
It has left us all feeling rather shaken as the future is less than certain.
Trotter of course is completely impervious to this and is happily eating one of my slippers next to me on the sofa.
I'm too upset to stop him.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Can they?
The evening started well.
Mrs Warboise and Varne arrived first, and were shown to their seats by a very respectable Trotter, who had had his hair brushed and was sporting a bow tie.
Mr Cod turned up next on special brew and a little confused, but as this is not unusual, he was seated in the garden on the back bench, underneath the tree. Fly was the last to arrive with a crate of cider, and in due course, seated. Martha, proud mother, was closest to the stage so she could see all her darlings to their best advantage and the scene was set.
The pets had rigged up some curtains, so as a small drum roll was beaten out by Fat Boy on the drum, Lulu and Giggsey girl drew back the safety curtain and the magical backdrop of the bench surrounded by fairy lights was visible for all to see.
At this point Fing arrived dressed in a tux, baton under arm and mounted his special platform in the middle of the pond. He explained that we were there due to Tutz's wish to be a bat, and how he had re written an operatic classic.
'And with that, Ladies and gentlemen, he said to the crowd, 'i present: 'Madame, Can Cats Fly?'
And so it began, the cats voices raised in beautiful harmony to represent the arrival in Preachers Lane of a sailor, from distant shores, and his desire for a beautiful young woman, who lost her heart.
Their voices trilled and swept like swallows on the wing as the little opera unfolded, with Lulus tenor, Trotters base and Fat Boys soprano, it was enough to bring a take your breath away.
The crowd were awestruck, and a tear could be seen in Martha's eye, surreptitiously wiped away with an emotional finger.
The score progressed with the sailor leaving, and how, in her despair she withdrew into madness, and decided that she would follow him to distant shores by fashioning herself wings to follow him across the ocean.
All of a sudden, on a mellow note, Tutz swept out of the bedroom window and walked across the top of the ramshackle awning. It should have been a beautiful moment, but in her knicker wings and small grey crash helmet she resembled nothing so much as a crash test dummy in drag.
'FUCK ME!' Mr Cod exclaimed from under the tree, only to have a withering look from Fing and collective 'SShhhS' from every one else.
She stood there with tragedy across her little face, and as the other pets reached a crescendo, she leapt from the top of the ramshackle awning and took flight.
There was a gasp of collective awe as her little fat furry body was up lit by the fairy lights and the knicker wings took on a luminous glow. All of a sudden the world seemed a more wonderful place and a heartfelt feeling of joy appeared in the hearts of all the audience.
It was perhaps then tragic that the knicker wings, more a flight of fancy than a work in process, suddenly, and with no warning, abruptly folded upwards leaving Tutz unsupported. With no preamble and almost instantaneously, her tiny body plummeted into the fish pond showering everyone with water and fusing the lights.
There was a moments horrified silence before every cried out in alarm! Suddenly it was a hive of activity as Trotter got out the fish net and proceded to fish the poor drowned girl from the water.
Thankfully, Tutz only suffered from the blow to her dignity, and was comforted by Varne with a hot toddy and heated towels from the tumble dryer.
In the chaos and confusion Mr Cod, who had been forgotten in the garden and was staring morosely into the pond said 'I knew i hated fucking opera'.
Mrs Warboise and Varne arrived first, and were shown to their seats by a very respectable Trotter, who had had his hair brushed and was sporting a bow tie.
Mr Cod turned up next on special brew and a little confused, but as this is not unusual, he was seated in the garden on the back bench, underneath the tree. Fly was the last to arrive with a crate of cider, and in due course, seated. Martha, proud mother, was closest to the stage so she could see all her darlings to their best advantage and the scene was set.
The pets had rigged up some curtains, so as a small drum roll was beaten out by Fat Boy on the drum, Lulu and Giggsey girl drew back the safety curtain and the magical backdrop of the bench surrounded by fairy lights was visible for all to see.
At this point Fing arrived dressed in a tux, baton under arm and mounted his special platform in the middle of the pond. He explained that we were there due to Tutz's wish to be a bat, and how he had re written an operatic classic.
'And with that, Ladies and gentlemen, he said to the crowd, 'i present: 'Madame, Can Cats Fly?'
And so it began, the cats voices raised in beautiful harmony to represent the arrival in Preachers Lane of a sailor, from distant shores, and his desire for a beautiful young woman, who lost her heart.
Their voices trilled and swept like swallows on the wing as the little opera unfolded, with Lulus tenor, Trotters base and Fat Boys soprano, it was enough to bring a take your breath away.
The crowd were awestruck, and a tear could be seen in Martha's eye, surreptitiously wiped away with an emotional finger.
The score progressed with the sailor leaving, and how, in her despair she withdrew into madness, and decided that she would follow him to distant shores by fashioning herself wings to follow him across the ocean.
All of a sudden, on a mellow note, Tutz swept out of the bedroom window and walked across the top of the ramshackle awning. It should have been a beautiful moment, but in her knicker wings and small grey crash helmet she resembled nothing so much as a crash test dummy in drag.
'FUCK ME!' Mr Cod exclaimed from under the tree, only to have a withering look from Fing and collective 'SShhhS' from every one else.
She stood there with tragedy across her little face, and as the other pets reached a crescendo, she leapt from the top of the ramshackle awning and took flight.
There was a gasp of collective awe as her little fat furry body was up lit by the fairy lights and the knicker wings took on a luminous glow. All of a sudden the world seemed a more wonderful place and a heartfelt feeling of joy appeared in the hearts of all the audience.
It was perhaps then tragic that the knicker wings, more a flight of fancy than a work in process, suddenly, and with no warning, abruptly folded upwards leaving Tutz unsupported. With no preamble and almost instantaneously, her tiny body plummeted into the fish pond showering everyone with water and fusing the lights.
There was a moments horrified silence before every cried out in alarm! Suddenly it was a hive of activity as Trotter got out the fish net and proceded to fish the poor drowned girl from the water.
Thankfully, Tutz only suffered from the blow to her dignity, and was comforted by Varne with a hot toddy and heated towels from the tumble dryer.
In the chaos and confusion Mr Cod, who had been forgotten in the garden and was staring morosely into the pond said 'I knew i hated fucking opera'.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Carpe dium
There is great excitement amongst the pets.
Tutz outfit has been completed and Fings new musical score in place. The pets have decided to perform tonight in the back garden and have spent the best part of the day sweeping up leaves and arranging seating. Small paw written invitations have been posted, down to Varnes, then to Mrs Warboise, Fly and Mr Cod.
It has been decided that only Tutz will be in costume and that the rest of the cats, with Lulu, will sing from the bench underneath the ramshackle awning. With this is mind the glowing fairly light orbs have been taken down and polished and the other fairy lights rearranged to frame the edge of their stage. The over hanging plants have been pruned and Fing has inspected his platform in the middle of the pond from where he will conduct.
Trotter will be showing people to the garden and their seats, dispensing popcorn, and then singing from the safety of the pig pen.
As i type the cats are practising their harmonys and Tutz is upstairs, hanging from the scratchy pole, flexing her new knicker wings and dreaming of her first staring role. She is a little concerned about the tiny crash helmet she must wear. She did protest it would ruin her artistic license, but Fat Boy Faggot has told her is absolutely necessary under health and safety laws, but is sure that it will not impede her performance.
All in all I think we are due quite a magical evening.
Tutz outfit has been completed and Fings new musical score in place. The pets have decided to perform tonight in the back garden and have spent the best part of the day sweeping up leaves and arranging seating. Small paw written invitations have been posted, down to Varnes, then to Mrs Warboise, Fly and Mr Cod.
It has been decided that only Tutz will be in costume and that the rest of the cats, with Lulu, will sing from the bench underneath the ramshackle awning. With this is mind the glowing fairly light orbs have been taken down and polished and the other fairy lights rearranged to frame the edge of their stage. The over hanging plants have been pruned and Fing has inspected his platform in the middle of the pond from where he will conduct.
Trotter will be showing people to the garden and their seats, dispensing popcorn, and then singing from the safety of the pig pen.
As i type the cats are practising their harmonys and Tutz is upstairs, hanging from the scratchy pole, flexing her new knicker wings and dreaming of her first staring role. She is a little concerned about the tiny crash helmet she must wear. She did protest it would ruin her artistic license, but Fat Boy Faggot has told her is absolutely necessary under health and safety laws, but is sure that it will not impede her performance.
All in all I think we are due quite a magical evening.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Pants
At first it was the Fat Boy and Tutz sat in the bedroom, devising wings from knicker elastic. But then, one by one, the other pets got drawn in.
Giggsey girl the stupid slug face had been sat polishing herself in the sunny window, but couldn't help but wonder what they were up to.
Trotter sat and watched for ages before he felt compelled to make suggestions.
Lulu was baking a cake but when she realised what was happening abandoned the cake in the rain, even though it took so long to bake it, and she may not have the recipe again.
And so Fing found every pet in the bedroom, cutting pieces from girls pants, sewing lace to old bits of stick, watching Tutz as she lived her bat dream.
He sat, and he watched, and he felt inspired.
It has been quite some time since the Preachers Lane Pet Choir has performed. Fing, the chorus master, finds himself and his feline genius rewriting an operatic classic.
Giggsey girl the stupid slug face had been sat polishing herself in the sunny window, but couldn't help but wonder what they were up to.
Trotter sat and watched for ages before he felt compelled to make suggestions.
Lulu was baking a cake but when she realised what was happening abandoned the cake in the rain, even though it took so long to bake it, and she may not have the recipe again.
And so Fing found every pet in the bedroom, cutting pieces from girls pants, sewing lace to old bits of stick, watching Tutz as she lived her bat dream.
He sat, and he watched, and he felt inspired.
It has been quite some time since the Preachers Lane Pet Choir has performed. Fing, the chorus master, finds himself and his feline genius rewriting an operatic classic.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Its started
After several hours of consideration in the laundry basket Tutz decided that she needs to make wings, rather than rely on her own sparce unfethered limbs.
With this is mind she spoke to Fat Boy Faggot and explained her predicament. Faggot decided that if wings made of undercrackers were required that they would, at least, be clean ones. So, with screwdriver in paw and Tutz watching from the stairs, Faggy carefully undid the metal pig money bank and secured £3 in funds.
They decided against Trotter pulling them in the trolly, so Faggy popped the unpredictable Tutz into her security harness and they set off to Primarni to purchase some new clean undercrackers.
They discovered a sale was on and came back with an assortment of underwear and then sat down in the bedroom amongst their purchases and discussed the best way to make wings.
With this is mind she spoke to Fat Boy Faggot and explained her predicament. Faggot decided that if wings made of undercrackers were required that they would, at least, be clean ones. So, with screwdriver in paw and Tutz watching from the stairs, Faggy carefully undid the metal pig money bank and secured £3 in funds.
They decided against Trotter pulling them in the trolly, so Faggy popped the unpredictable Tutz into her security harness and they set off to Primarni to purchase some new clean undercrackers.
They discovered a sale was on and came back with an assortment of underwear and then sat down in the bedroom amongst their purchases and discussed the best way to make wings.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Cheat
Today, Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west has been inspired by Delia Smith and her insane new cooking techniques.
She has decided that at the weekend she will cook a large chocolate cake made mainly from potato.
Trotter cannot quite envisage this and in his tormented mind see's a steaming jacket potato with a big nob of cadburys melting in the middle. I found him upstairs explaining the situation to Tutz.
Tutz, who had just watched a program about Livingstone's flying foxes, was hanging upside down from the scratchy pole, little legs crossed upon her chest like withered sparrow wings.
'Yes, said Trotter, 'it's chocolate cake but its also mashed potato apparently. I'm not sure but i think its got cadburys buttons in it and maybe some pilchards'
'PPrrooot!' cried Tutz 'PPPRRROOOT' and spread her sparrow wings and promptly fell off the scratchy pole into the laundry basket.
'OK, maybe I'm wrong about the mash potatoes' said Trotter, and left the room as Tuts emerged from the laundry basket wearing a sock as a hat.
She looks at the laundry she has landed in and raises one furred eyebrow, wondering if she can fashion undercrackers into wings and sits there thinking about flying in the warm air around the coast of Africa.
She has decided that at the weekend she will cook a large chocolate cake made mainly from potato.
Trotter cannot quite envisage this and in his tormented mind see's a steaming jacket potato with a big nob of cadburys melting in the middle. I found him upstairs explaining the situation to Tutz.
Tutz, who had just watched a program about Livingstone's flying foxes, was hanging upside down from the scratchy pole, little legs crossed upon her chest like withered sparrow wings.
'Yes, said Trotter, 'it's chocolate cake but its also mashed potato apparently. I'm not sure but i think its got cadburys buttons in it and maybe some pilchards'
'PPrrooot!' cried Tutz 'PPPRRROOOT' and spread her sparrow wings and promptly fell off the scratchy pole into the laundry basket.
'OK, maybe I'm wrong about the mash potatoes' said Trotter, and left the room as Tuts emerged from the laundry basket wearing a sock as a hat.
She looks at the laundry she has landed in and raises one furred eyebrow, wondering if she can fashion undercrackers into wings and sits there thinking about flying in the warm air around the coast of Africa.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Shock win!
Trotters is very upset that the ChiHuaHua didn't win. So much so that he's gone to bed in a sulk.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the West says she is releived that the ChiHuaHua didn't win. 'What does it say to the rest of the doggy world?' She said? 'It's dogs like that that cause annorexia in other breeds!'
But i gave her a cake and it soon shut her up.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the West says she is releived that the ChiHuaHua didn't win. 'What does it say to the rest of the doggy world?' She said? 'It's dogs like that that cause annorexia in other breeds!'
But i gave her a cake and it soon shut her up.
Amy
It is calm on Preachers Lane after a hectic day in which Trotter was nearly strangled by the tape measure, and in which Fillipa drove Martha, Varne, Mrs Warboise and I to Carpet Right.
We arrived at Carpet Right and showed the assistant Martha and Varnes roughly hewn sketch of the sitting room and pretended a disabled relative had drawn it. Unfortunately, Martha and Varne had measured the widest part of the room so Fillipa and I were dispatched back to Preachers Lane to measure the grate so that no mistakes come be made with the new lino.
We purchased an off cut of carpet as Martha wants the stairs carpeted so that when were all here for a chill out it wont be so hard on her ears as shes trying to sleep.
All is not well elsewhere. Trotters and I had settled down to watch Crufts when I got a text from Dean on Milan's phone. The word was not good. At Deans fathers house Milan had fallen asleep on the dining room table.
Although Dean and his collected family had managed to carry Milan to the sofa, he is out for the count.
As a result Dean is dancing to Amy Winehouse with his Dads girlfriend and wondering what on earth to do.
I did suggest sending Fing over in his Ferrari to pick them up, well, picking Dean up and attaching some rope to Milan's legs and dragging him home, only to find that Fing has in fact crashed his Ferrari, leaving it neither use nor ornament.
Oh well.
Here comes best in show!
We arrived at Carpet Right and showed the assistant Martha and Varnes roughly hewn sketch of the sitting room and pretended a disabled relative had drawn it. Unfortunately, Martha and Varne had measured the widest part of the room so Fillipa and I were dispatched back to Preachers Lane to measure the grate so that no mistakes come be made with the new lino.
We purchased an off cut of carpet as Martha wants the stairs carpeted so that when were all here for a chill out it wont be so hard on her ears as shes trying to sleep.
All is not well elsewhere. Trotters and I had settled down to watch Crufts when I got a text from Dean on Milan's phone. The word was not good. At Deans fathers house Milan had fallen asleep on the dining room table.
Although Dean and his collected family had managed to carry Milan to the sofa, he is out for the count.
As a result Dean is dancing to Amy Winehouse with his Dads girlfriend and wondering what on earth to do.
I did suggest sending Fing over in his Ferrari to pick them up, well, picking Dean up and attaching some rope to Milan's legs and dragging him home, only to find that Fing has in fact crashed his Ferrari, leaving it neither use nor ornament.
Oh well.
Here comes best in show!
Marmoleum
In a moment of madness, martha and Varne decided to measure the sitting room/kitchenette for our new slate effect floor covering.
They had not considered Trotters beady eye as the entire length of the metallic tape was unrolled, or the effect it would have on his damaged mind.
He struck like a viper and bit the tape, and then began to twirl, until he was wrapped in the tape like a Christmas present too early.
'TROTTERS!!!!' i could hear martha calling out in an angst ridden voice, combined with Gina given it 'Oh my Fuck!', 'TROTTER!'
They had to abandon the measuring for fear that Trotter would either strangle himself or cut his tongue off.
They had not considered Trotters beady eye as the entire length of the metallic tape was unrolled, or the effect it would have on his damaged mind.
He struck like a viper and bit the tape, and then began to twirl, until he was wrapped in the tape like a Christmas present too early.
'TROTTERS!!!!' i could hear martha calling out in an angst ridden voice, combined with Gina given it 'Oh my Fuck!', 'TROTTER!'
They had to abandon the measuring for fear that Trotter would either strangle himself or cut his tongue off.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Guilty Pleasure
Fing doenst believe in guilty pleasure. He adores pissing openly, in public and preferably with an audience to witness his naughtiness. He likes to sit and smirk, especially if he has upset Trotters by peeing in his toy boy.
Trotter can derive no pleasure, innocent or guilty, from his toy bag and is so upset he has taken to barking at the vases in the grate.
Fat Boy Faggots guilty pleasure is cheese sauce, and as such, you need to keep the lid on the pot until you've served dinner otherwise, small whiskery indentations and lick marks can be seen on top.
Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug face likes nothing more than knawing the ends of chocolate bars and sucking the exposed milk chocolate.
Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west loves to read Jackie Collins novels, so we wont dwell on that.
Which leaves Tutz.
Tutz has only one love. Her scratchy pole which is now so hair infested and ripped that i may be forced to burn it in the back garden as a harbinger to spring and get a new one from Argos.
Trotter can derive no pleasure, innocent or guilty, from his toy bag and is so upset he has taken to barking at the vases in the grate.
Fat Boy Faggots guilty pleasure is cheese sauce, and as such, you need to keep the lid on the pot until you've served dinner otherwise, small whiskery indentations and lick marks can be seen on top.
Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug face likes nothing more than knawing the ends of chocolate bars and sucking the exposed milk chocolate.
Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west loves to read Jackie Collins novels, so we wont dwell on that.
Which leaves Tutz.
Tutz has only one love. Her scratchy pole which is now so hair infested and ripped that i may be forced to burn it in the back garden as a harbinger to spring and get a new one from Argos.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Welome, welcome
As recently disclosed, the world of Trotter and Fing has gathered new friens along the way.
We have recently encountered Mr Cod, and this week I would like to introduce to to Dean and Nikki.
Dean and Nikki are hairdressers by trade, but yet so much more!
Deany boy has a penchant for home grown herbs, home made tomato sauce, home made chutneys and spending time with our old friend, Milly Pav. Thankfully due to Deans intervention, Milan has been spared calamity in our bathroom as he now has a permanent and lovely place to stay.
And what can we say about the delightful Nikki? She doesn't know who Stephen Hawkins is, but thats not a catastrophe!
At one point Martha was not sure about Dean and Nikki, but now she is she often enquires, fondly, about their where abouts.
'What are those Fuckwits up to?' she enquires?
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Lord of the Manor
Fing spent the best part of the afternoon lording it up on Marthas freshly made bed.
He spurned Tutz advances and refused to play, instead, striking her around the head repeatedly with a irritated paw and mealy mouthed face.
He watched Fat Boy Faggot as he clambered up towards to pillows and hit him with a determined 'I'm not sharing paw' and a withering glare.
He looked at Giggsey Girl the stupid slug faced and decided she was shiny enough to bask in his glory and let her stay.
To Rob
'Happy Birthday to you,
Squashed tomatoes and stew,
Bread and Butter in the gutter,
Happy birthday to you!'
Sings Tutz in her own small world of madness
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Drag School
I was sat recovering from 'Bridge to terabithia' when a phone call came from Varnes.
Do you have a long black wig we could borrow, was the enquiry.
So i went upstairs and rifled through the assortment of frocks and velvet gloves and false breasts and found the wigs, all encased in a hat box.
What sort of wig do we need, i enquired? Apparently tomorrow is 'world something day' and Chris's niece is going as Ugly Betty, was the reply.
So i tottered down the road with an assortment of wigs, and a handful of spectacles and felt in someway appeased, and yet, excited.
The world around us has accepted the dragness of Preachers Lane. Where once only young men came to pop on frocks, now schoolchildren ask to borrow accessories and high heels.
I would like to take this time to thank Fillipa Hole, Legs up Lucy and Trai la Trash for their time and complete indifference.
If you want to keep on storing your drag queen materials here you might think about paying us a storage fee!
God, you see how they are?
Do you have a long black wig we could borrow, was the enquiry.
So i went upstairs and rifled through the assortment of frocks and velvet gloves and false breasts and found the wigs, all encased in a hat box.
What sort of wig do we need, i enquired? Apparently tomorrow is 'world something day' and Chris's niece is going as Ugly Betty, was the reply.
So i tottered down the road with an assortment of wigs, and a handful of spectacles and felt in someway appeased, and yet, excited.
The world around us has accepted the dragness of Preachers Lane. Where once only young men came to pop on frocks, now schoolchildren ask to borrow accessories and high heels.
I would like to take this time to thank Fillipa Hole, Legs up Lucy and Trai la Trash for their time and complete indifference.
If you want to keep on storing your drag queen materials here you might think about paying us a storage fee!
God, you see how they are?
Hotter than an otters pocket
'Do you know what I've got in my pocket?', asked Martha as we took Trotter and Lulu for a walk earlier.
'I don't know!', i replied with a casual indifference, 'what have you got in your pocket?'
All of a sudden and with no apparent warning, Martha produced a retractable pencil.
'It's quite an effective weapon', she said, 'it can get through to the skin, even through jeans'
I looked at her with an appraising eye and enquired how she knew this.
'Oh, you know, if people torment me too much in the office i stab them in the leg', she said.
'would you like to feel how painful it is?'
I took a step back and replied in the negative.
'I don't know!', i replied with a casual indifference, 'what have you got in your pocket?'
All of a sudden and with no apparent warning, Martha produced a retractable pencil.
'It's quite an effective weapon', she said, 'it can get through to the skin, even through jeans'
I looked at her with an appraising eye and enquired how she knew this.
'Oh, you know, if people torment me too much in the office i stab them in the leg', she said.
'would you like to feel how painful it is?'
I took a step back and replied in the negative.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Tom Brownes Schooldays
I awoke to the sound of Martha holding a conversation with whom I assumed to be Varne.
I got up only to discover that it was in fact Fing, not Varne who was talking to Martha, in an attempt to be let out into the garden.
'He can't go out', she explained, 'there are cats who have been out all night outside'. Fing looked at me with anger in his eyes and went off and pissed in Trotters toy bag to make himself feel better.
'Its for his own good', she said, and I recalled that Martha used to have a teacher who used to say exactly the same thing to her when she was a girl. Miss Herring, aka 'Cods eye' used to regularly cane Martha for her naughtiness, whilst adding 'I'm doing this for your own good'.
I asked Martha if it had done any good, and she replied no. So i enquired if the same principle applied to Fing.
'Its entirely different', she exclaimed! 'Its not like I'm about to cane his tiny paws is it?'
We then discussed Martha's schooldays and her different teachers at her secondary modern school.
There was delightful Mrs Money who taught needlework and writing. Unfortunately Martha showed no aptitude for needlework and was allowed to do gardening instead. This was until the day that Martha decided to get on the rotavator and drove into the gate by accident, cutting her leg open in the process.
There was perverted Mr Harris, who taught geography and took the hapless students on a field trip to Shropshire in an attempt to teach them cartography. They dropped the students off in the hills, only to find Marthas team lost. She got a caning for getting lost.
Mr McCabe the art teacher who wouldn't let the boys and girls talk to each other despite it being a mixed school.
Martha's belief of predestination stemmed from Mr Mangle, who would make the children meditate and close their eyes, all so that he could pick his nose in private.
And of course, the redoubtable Mrs Herring, who had thin vicious lips that were always pained a bright red, with short mannish hair and weak watery eyes.
I think my favourite reminiscence of the morning was about Georgina, who arrived at the school epileptic, but unannounced, so when she took her first fit in the dinner queue the other children ran screaming into the playground. One day she took a fit in Mrs Herrings class, and sat thrashing at her desk, only to have Mrs Herring call out 'Pull yourself together Georgina and pay attention!'
I got up only to discover that it was in fact Fing, not Varne who was talking to Martha, in an attempt to be let out into the garden.
'He can't go out', she explained, 'there are cats who have been out all night outside'. Fing looked at me with anger in his eyes and went off and pissed in Trotters toy bag to make himself feel better.
'Its for his own good', she said, and I recalled that Martha used to have a teacher who used to say exactly the same thing to her when she was a girl. Miss Herring, aka 'Cods eye' used to regularly cane Martha for her naughtiness, whilst adding 'I'm doing this for your own good'.
I asked Martha if it had done any good, and she replied no. So i enquired if the same principle applied to Fing.
'Its entirely different', she exclaimed! 'Its not like I'm about to cane his tiny paws is it?'
We then discussed Martha's schooldays and her different teachers at her secondary modern school.
There was delightful Mrs Money who taught needlework and writing. Unfortunately Martha showed no aptitude for needlework and was allowed to do gardening instead. This was until the day that Martha decided to get on the rotavator and drove into the gate by accident, cutting her leg open in the process.
There was perverted Mr Harris, who taught geography and took the hapless students on a field trip to Shropshire in an attempt to teach them cartography. They dropped the students off in the hills, only to find Marthas team lost. She got a caning for getting lost.
Mr McCabe the art teacher who wouldn't let the boys and girls talk to each other despite it being a mixed school.
Martha's belief of predestination stemmed from Mr Mangle, who would make the children meditate and close their eyes, all so that he could pick his nose in private.
And of course, the redoubtable Mrs Herring, who had thin vicious lips that were always pained a bright red, with short mannish hair and weak watery eyes.
I think my favourite reminiscence of the morning was about Georgina, who arrived at the school epileptic, but unannounced, so when she took her first fit in the dinner queue the other children ran screaming into the playground. One day she took a fit in Mrs Herrings class, and sat thrashing at her desk, only to have Mrs Herring call out 'Pull yourself together Georgina and pay attention!'
Saturday, March 01, 2008
a SONG FOR jOHN
and she was out of tune god damn it!
Just what does John Barrowman know?
(Dr Who and Torchwood i'll give him that, but shite songs for europe? SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP JOHN, THIS IS EUROPE, NOT AMERICA!)
Just what does John Barrowman know?
(Dr Who and Torchwood i'll give him that, but shite songs for europe? SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP JOHN, THIS IS EUROPE, NOT AMERICA!)
Smack your bitch up
Since the world moved on and i dropped my last computer, smashing the motherboard, new characters have entered the world of Trotter and Fing.
One of these is the infamous Mr Cod, Varnes older brother.
Mr Cod is best know for trying out 'new raises', he works for the pikeys and likes to drink special brew at 8am in the morning.
He is known as Mr Cod because he closely resembles the cod in a multivitamin advert who winks in a lascivious manner to the viewing public.
Mr Cod came round one day in a drunken fashion and proceeded to torment Lulu (the chubbiest dog in the west), we tried to warn him, but to no avail.
He was feeling the heat of a hot summers evening and went to the sink and doused his head in cold water, smoothing his hair back.
He returned to the sofa and the disagreeable Lulu, and proceeded to torment her.
We warned him again!
Watch out! we cried, she still has 2 teeth!
He wouldn't listen, he wouldn't be told. She bit him, fair and square on the nose. Pierced it in fact.
He looked up in complete surprise, blood streaming down his face, as his previously damped hair stood up in a mohican.
It has to be said that for a moment we thought the Prodigy had made a surprise appearance as martha cried ' Oh! its the fire starter!'
Flea today, gone tomorrow
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west is a very unhappy dog.
Today is flea day, in which we dispense small doses of poison to the back of the pets necks in the name of progress.
As Trotter was flea-ed earlier in the month by accident Lulu is suffering by herself. She hates the poison on the back of her neck and as I type she is feverishly rubbing her chubby body on the throw trying to get rid of the stuff.
Trotter is being pursued around the kitchen by Varne who has a pet wipe (for dogs who do not enjoy being bathed) in her right hand and a piece of ham in her left. Kind of like a 'good cop, bad cop' scenario. Trotter can only focus on the wipe and is skirting the outside of the room like a wary lion in a circus ring. She has managed to wipe the right side of his little scruffy body and as a result he is shiny on one side.
The cats are asleep upstairs, completely unaware of the wipe/ poison problem downstairs.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Sick
Oh dear, every one is poorly.
Each of us, to a man.
I have been dispensing cough syrup to Lulu and Tutz, who are sharing a duvet in Martha and I's shared coat cupboard.
Fat boy Faggot has been terribly sick in the hall.
Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face is huddled on a cushion which lays on the top of the sofa and rests against the wall, from which she can gain the most benefit from the rediator.
Fing is laying on his cushion, the one next to mine, in bed and is too grumpy to speak and instead is coughing in an irritated fashion as if to illustrate a point.
Trotter won't be spoken to and instead is waiting for Martha to come home, a dejected figure at the bottom of the stairs.
I just don't know what to do with myself. I've got no one to speak to, well unless one of them calls out for a lemsip or cough syrup or a hot toddy, I may as well not be here.
I'm off back to bed to watch old episodes of Quincy and Lovjoy.
Each of us, to a man.
I have been dispensing cough syrup to Lulu and Tutz, who are sharing a duvet in Martha and I's shared coat cupboard.
Fat boy Faggot has been terribly sick in the hall.
Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face is huddled on a cushion which lays on the top of the sofa and rests against the wall, from which she can gain the most benefit from the rediator.
Fing is laying on his cushion, the one next to mine, in bed and is too grumpy to speak and instead is coughing in an irritated fashion as if to illustrate a point.
Trotter won't be spoken to and instead is waiting for Martha to come home, a dejected figure at the bottom of the stairs.
I just don't know what to do with myself. I've got no one to speak to, well unless one of them calls out for a lemsip or cough syrup or a hot toddy, I may as well not be here.
I'm off back to bed to watch old episodes of Quincy and Lovjoy.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Twig
Of course somethings never change.
Trotters madness is one of those things.
The form of the madness can change in itself however adding new dimension to the insanity you experience.
As such, the world moves on.
Martha has become obsessed the channel 11's 'The Dog Whisperer' celebrating the quiet work of Los Angeles Ceasar Milan, the worlds foremost dog psychologist. As such we watch every episode, every evening as soon as Martha returns from Varnes.
I think that Martha hopes that we can glean some hint, or method, in which to subdue Trotters madness.
It has is some small way helped.
Through Ceasars tutelage we have stopped Trotter barking at you when you make sandwiches. In turn, he no longer barks at you when you eat pizza.
It hasn't stopped him barking at the broom however, and Trotters hatred of the mop bucket lays unabated.
It is said that from small acorns tall oaks grow.
I think with luck and perseverance we may end up with an unkempt bonsai.
Trotters madness is one of those things.
The form of the madness can change in itself however adding new dimension to the insanity you experience.
As such, the world moves on.
Martha has become obsessed the channel 11's 'The Dog Whisperer' celebrating the quiet work of Los Angeles Ceasar Milan, the worlds foremost dog psychologist. As such we watch every episode, every evening as soon as Martha returns from Varnes.
I think that Martha hopes that we can glean some hint, or method, in which to subdue Trotters madness.
It has is some small way helped.
Through Ceasars tutelage we have stopped Trotter barking at you when you make sandwiches. In turn, he no longer barks at you when you eat pizza.
It hasn't stopped him barking at the broom however, and Trotters hatred of the mop bucket lays unabated.
It is said that from small acorns tall oaks grow.
I think with luck and perseverance we may end up with an unkempt bonsai.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
I just can't bear it
I am sure I am not alone in reading of the brave adventures of a Romanian boy called Petre and his 3 legged dog Cotanogu.
The boy, his mother and the dog were collecting fire wood in the shadow of the Carpathian Mountains when a brown bear emerged from the shrubbery and charged the small group, before grasping the mother around the neck.
At this point the redoubtable Petre raced towards the bear brandishing a piece of the aforementioned firewood shouting at the top of his 7 year old voice, closely followed by Cotanogu, barking with menaces.
The startled bear abandoned his choice of supper and shambled post haste back into the shadows of the Carpathian Mountains, leaving Mrs Petre only slightly mangled.
Hurrah for 7 year old and small brown terriers with 3 legs! Hurrah! Hurrah!
(without wishing to belittle their brave adventure, I can only assume that the bear was old, and a bit arthritic, and presumably devoid of teeth, because normally if a brown bear grabs you round the neck your head becomes detached and rolls down the slopes of the Carpathian Mountains, utterly mangled)
The boy, his mother and the dog were collecting fire wood in the shadow of the Carpathian Mountains when a brown bear emerged from the shrubbery and charged the small group, before grasping the mother around the neck.
At this point the redoubtable Petre raced towards the bear brandishing a piece of the aforementioned firewood shouting at the top of his 7 year old voice, closely followed by Cotanogu, barking with menaces.
The startled bear abandoned his choice of supper and shambled post haste back into the shadows of the Carpathian Mountains, leaving Mrs Petre only slightly mangled.
Hurrah for 7 year old and small brown terriers with 3 legs! Hurrah! Hurrah!
(without wishing to belittle their brave adventure, I can only assume that the bear was old, and a bit arthritic, and presumably devoid of teeth, because normally if a brown bear grabs you round the neck your head becomes detached and rolls down the slopes of the Carpathian Mountains, utterly mangled)
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Ware the beast
So much water has passed under the bridge that i scarcely know where, or how, to begin. So many adventures and mishaps, dance competitions and bake-offs, the world is truly my oyster.
I think I shall start with a tale of the erstwhile Filipa Hole, who had popped round to mine to get ready for her part time job at the Brewery Gate.
I had cooked a spot of supper, and we sat and drank some tea, before Filipa ventured upstairs to pop on her uniform.
I was utilizing the facilities when suddenly an anguished cry came from my bedroom,
'Honey! I've had a hideous accident!'
I raced into the room to find Filipa gripping onto the tallboy with one leg raised in an unwitting parody of a Morcombe and Wise sketch.
It would appear that wile Filipa was donning her apparel Trotter had casually pottered into the room and done a discreet poo on the floor. Tragically the unsuspecting Filipa took a step backwards and planted her foot smack bang in the middle of Trotters fragrant offering.
Needless to say it was a calamity of the highest nature and resulted in some very unladylike retching in the lavatory.
I think I shall start with a tale of the erstwhile Filipa Hole, who had popped round to mine to get ready for her part time job at the Brewery Gate.
I had cooked a spot of supper, and we sat and drank some tea, before Filipa ventured upstairs to pop on her uniform.
I was utilizing the facilities when suddenly an anguished cry came from my bedroom,
'Honey! I've had a hideous accident!'
I raced into the room to find Filipa gripping onto the tallboy with one leg raised in an unwitting parody of a Morcombe and Wise sketch.
It would appear that wile Filipa was donning her apparel Trotter had casually pottered into the room and done a discreet poo on the floor. Tragically the unsuspecting Filipa took a step backwards and planted her foot smack bang in the middle of Trotters fragrant offering.
Needless to say it was a calamity of the highest nature and resulted in some very unladylike retching in the lavatory.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Welcome to the World of Trottrandfing
It is some times said that all good things come to those who wait. It is also said that revenge is a dish best served cold.
Make of that what you will.
Trotterandfing would like to announce a commencement in services otherwise rescinded through lack of technological advancements.
It's never made sense.
Welcome home.
Make of that what you will.
Trotterandfing would like to announce a commencement in services otherwise rescinded through lack of technological advancements.
It's never made sense.
Welcome home.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Humbug
Fing has been taking his new role as the Cat of Christmas Past very seriously indeed.
He likes to sit next to my jewellery box and rattle the chains all night.
Although this is not actually a haunting experience, its is quite the most annoying thing I have ever had to experiemce, and find myself removing anything than can be rattled or scraped from the top of the dresser and out of his way.
Wretched Boy with his malignant mind.
He likes to sit next to my jewellery box and rattle the chains all night.
Although this is not actually a haunting experience, its is quite the most annoying thing I have ever had to experiemce, and find myself removing anything than can be rattled or scraped from the top of the dresser and out of his way.
Wretched Boy with his malignant mind.
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