It all turned out a bit demented in the end, although MarGRET, Eddie and Lily would have lijed the puppy to stay, Debbie from the animal shelter had already arranged a home and medical treatment, should she need it, had all been sorted out. As I type the puppy should be on her way to a new home.
Delilah, we wish you long life and happiness in your new home.
At the ranch, things have shettled back into normality.
Fing is sitting on the dresser looking down imperiously at the rest of the room.
Trotter is rubbing his furry face along the bed, all happy now the puppy is gone.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Friday, January 19, 2007
Ramp 2
Enthralled by the idea of a ramp to help him in and out of cars, Trotter has spent some time on the internet.
He would like to draw your attention to this website and the particularly talented Black Labradour hired to test the products.
http://www.handiramp.com/pet-ramp.htm
He wonders if there may be a job for him in the pet ramp business?
He would like to draw your attention to this website and the particularly talented Black Labradour hired to test the products.
http://www.handiramp.com/pet-ramp.htm
He wonders if there may be a job for him in the pet ramp business?
Where do you go, my lovely?
It has been a very very difficult week.
Martha and I have come to the difficult decision that we cannot keep Delilah as Trotter hates her. It is not fair to keep her when the only place she can be is my bedroom. Neither is it fair to upset the delicate equilibrium at home, in which all 6 pets have a distinct place to be.
So I contacted Captain Skipjack and Lucas by day - Duncan by night, was there a place in the pub for them I wondered? Unfortunately not, the Captain was worried that he might not be able to cope with the puppy's enthusiasm, what with his creaking hips and all, and LBDDBN was worried that he would not be able to devote time staring at nothing if he had a puppy to distract him.
Was there a place in North Leigh with my cousin I wondered? Unfortunately not, Katrina's fence had been completely blown away by the wind, and, as she lives on a main road with nothing to stop the puppy from racing out and getting run over, the answer was no.
I called up Fred who kindly gave me Debbie's number. Debbie works at a sanctuary that specialises in re-homing lurchers, and she agreed to pick up the puppy at 10.30am sharp on Saturday.
But then came breaking news from Cuddesdon!
Big saw Delilah's photo on this self same website and swooped down to Preachers Lane to pick her up and kiss her on the head! They have advised us that MarGRET and Louie were considering a 3rd dog to keep their 2 dogs, Eddie and Lily, company. So tiny delilah was whisked off into the dark night to see if she might fit in there.
We all have out fingers and toes crossed.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Ramp
Trotter was utterly delighted at his letter from Rez and Big Lou this morning, showing details of a fold away wooden ramp that could be used to help small stocky dogs in and out of cars.
He is especially pleased as he has always had problems getting in and out of Fing's Ferrari and the wooden ramp would solve the indignity of having to be winched in and out by Fing and the other pets. The home made hoist made out of a couple of Martha's old bra's and some laddery tights from the sock drawer, although practical, was hardly the thing for a dog about town to be seen in.
The wooden ramp would be a godsend.
He is especially pleased as he has always had problems getting in and out of Fing's Ferrari and the wooden ramp would solve the indignity of having to be winched in and out by Fing and the other pets. The home made hoist made out of a couple of Martha's old bra's and some laddery tights from the sock drawer, although practical, was hardly the thing for a dog about town to be seen in.
The wooden ramp would be a godsend.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Octopussy
Contrary to popular opinion, Octopus do not enjoy being part of a Spanish Tapas menu.
They much prefer growing to unfathomable lengths in the deep ocean and scaring the b'jesus out of mariners.
My, My, My
Trotter is very unhappy because of Delilah. He is grumpy, growling and generally pissed off.
Fing will not sleep on his pillow.
Tutz has taken to hissing from underneath the bed.
Lulu is barking and growling and being a bad tempered bitch - although in fairness, that's completely normal behaviour.
Fizzgigg seems unperturbed.
Faggot came and got into bed with the puppy last night and purred as loud as a steam locomotive.
So, although Fat Boy has embraced the puppy, it seems that the rest of the management committee is out. This does not bode well for Delilah.
Fing will not sleep on his pillow.
Tutz has taken to hissing from underneath the bed.
Lulu is barking and growling and being a bad tempered bitch - although in fairness, that's completely normal behaviour.
Fizzgigg seems unperturbed.
Faggot came and got into bed with the puppy last night and purred as loud as a steam locomotive.
So, although Fat Boy has embraced the puppy, it seems that the rest of the management committee is out. This does not bode well for Delilah.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Varne and Delilah
Delilah arrived on Friday, she came with nothing but an air of Joy de Vie and an insatiable appetite.
As she bounced up and down the hall way like bambi on acid, all 4 cats lined up on the stairs and watched her, almost as if they were watching a game of tennis, eyes swivelling backwards and forwrds as she went.
It was perhaps an unusual weekend for Delilah to arrive as it was Varnes Birthday and we were throwing a very important party, with tea, and cakes, pickled onions and a selection of cold meats. All the best people were invited and Martha spent all day in the kitchen cooking with the help of Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west, and Fing, who sat on the side watching with an imperious air, wondering if any fish was going to be prepared and passed his way.
All the guests arrived and a good time was had by all, Delilah was greated with enthusiasm and Trotter was put out be the attention she was receiveing.
We had been lulled into a false sense of security by Trotters calmness, when all of a sudden he reacted adversly last night and growled and was unusually bad tempered towards the little one.
Today he stood calmly in the hall wagging his tail and watched Delilah in the kitchen.
God knows whats going to happen next.
As she bounced up and down the hall way like bambi on acid, all 4 cats lined up on the stairs and watched her, almost as if they were watching a game of tennis, eyes swivelling backwards and forwrds as she went.
It was perhaps an unusual weekend for Delilah to arrive as it was Varnes Birthday and we were throwing a very important party, with tea, and cakes, pickled onions and a selection of cold meats. All the best people were invited and Martha spent all day in the kitchen cooking with the help of Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west, and Fing, who sat on the side watching with an imperious air, wondering if any fish was going to be prepared and passed his way.
All the guests arrived and a good time was had by all, Delilah was greated with enthusiasm and Trotter was put out be the attention she was receiveing.
We had been lulled into a false sense of security by Trotters calmness, when all of a sudden he reacted adversly last night and growled and was unusually bad tempered towards the little one.
Today he stood calmly in the hall wagging his tail and watched Delilah in the kitchen.
God knows whats going to happen next.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Judy
It is a very stormy day.
The tree's are being lashed by the rain and the bushes are being whipped by the wind.
Yes, I'm afraid it's an S & M kind of day.
Trotter doesn't like S & M kind of days as they play merry havoc with his coat. He was therefore extremely pleased when he noticed this lovely rainbow. He decided to try and follow the rainbow to its end to see if he could find a crock of IAMs, but instead ended up in the Jude the Insecure, where he stopped for a pint of real ale and some monkey nuts.
He remembered the last time he had been here, the day of the sponsored walk, if he remembers correctly. They had asked us all to leave as children were not allowed in the bar, in the garden, or, apparently, within a 10 mile radius of the fascist wanker barman, ugly twat.
The remembrance sours his pint, so he has a cursory piss up against the table leg, and sets off home where he intends to have a hot bath, and have one of the other pets try to comb out his tussled furry coat.
Shall we, shan't we?
Something of great import has occurred on Preachers Lane.
Last night Andray appeared with a tiny puppy and announced that he had swapped her for Hercules who had gone to live with some gypsies.
Thankfully, for him, he was lying. Hercules has not gone to live with the gypsies.
Although we haven't seen Hercules for a while it is because he is on Safari in Kenya and is helping to catalogue numbers of pesky hyena's who have taken up extortion in the area. The park rangers have expressed some concerns that Elephants have enough to worry about from poachers without having to pay the hyena's not to burn down their shops and factory's.
So, the tiny puppy, who has come to stay with Andray for some reason.
I WANT TO KEEP HER FOREVER.
But this will of course, completely, depend on the board of directors themselves, Trotter and Fing.
Trotter ignored her last night, despite the fact that she kept bouncing past him like a tiny faun. Fing watched her through slitted eyes and did not even twitch when she barked at him in a small puppy manner. Fat Boy Faggot hissed at her from underneath the bench but she tried to play with him anyway by trying to touch him with an experimental paw. Lulu went upstairs and refused to come down, mind you, I think she's guarding something upstairs again, so that in itself wasn't overly unusual.
We are testing the pets reactions to her over the next few days, and, if all is well, Trotter will have someone to play with and we will have a new team member.
Fingers crossed.
Last night Andray appeared with a tiny puppy and announced that he had swapped her for Hercules who had gone to live with some gypsies.
Thankfully, for him, he was lying. Hercules has not gone to live with the gypsies.
Although we haven't seen Hercules for a while it is because he is on Safari in Kenya and is helping to catalogue numbers of pesky hyena's who have taken up extortion in the area. The park rangers have expressed some concerns that Elephants have enough to worry about from poachers without having to pay the hyena's not to burn down their shops and factory's.
So, the tiny puppy, who has come to stay with Andray for some reason.
I WANT TO KEEP HER FOREVER.
But this will of course, completely, depend on the board of directors themselves, Trotter and Fing.
Trotter ignored her last night, despite the fact that she kept bouncing past him like a tiny faun. Fing watched her through slitted eyes and did not even twitch when she barked at him in a small puppy manner. Fat Boy Faggot hissed at her from underneath the bench but she tried to play with him anyway by trying to touch him with an experimental paw. Lulu went upstairs and refused to come down, mind you, I think she's guarding something upstairs again, so that in itself wasn't overly unusual.
We are testing the pets reactions to her over the next few days, and, if all is well, Trotter will have someone to play with and we will have a new team member.
Fingers crossed.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Smaug
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face luxuriates on the beautiful new satin cushion that Martha has bought for the Dragon Chair.
Giggsey is obviously very pleased that Martha has bought a new satin cushion for the Dragon Chair as it is extremely comfortable and sets off her stupid shiny body a treat.
The rest of us cannot help but be concerned that the red stain cushion, with the slug on top, will be akin to a red rag to a bull to Trotter. With his aversion to cushions and his dislike of Giggsey being comfortable in the lounge this is an accident waiting to happen.
Our concerns lay with the Dragon Chair, an antique that has been in the family for centuries, all carved from ebony and extremely old.
Martha thinks it should be on display, despite Trotters propensities, and is throwing caution into his deranged furry face by adding the red satin cushion, which in turn tempts the slug, who Trotter doesn't like to be comfy, on top of the chair.
I cannot help but fear there may be tears before bedtime.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Blue
It is Tuesday.
The temperature is mild for the time of year.
The sky is grey, people look depressed, no one has any money.
Its January.
In an attempt to cheer the general populace, Trotter and Giggsey Girl the stupid slug Face are busking in the front yard.
Giggsey is on her drum kit and Trotter has a comb with a bit of loo roll wrapped around it into which he is blowing. He isn't really succeeding in making much of a noise, but keeps on laughing as its making his lips tickle.
As Giggsey beats out a heavy metal rif, Trotter can be seen rolling around on the floor, clutching his furry sides and laughing and laughing and laughing.
They have gathered quite a crowd.
The crowd cannot work out what they are supposed to be. A band? Performance artists? Maniacs?
It is not helped by the fact that Truly Scrumptious Lulu is sat in the doorway in her 'Cheeky Chops' T-shirt, Chefs hat, smoking a Cuban cigar and drinking Jack Daniels, whilst staring at the crowd with thinly disguised contempt. 'Plebs' she thinks, and snorts to herself within a vast cloud of acrid smoke.
The crowd can't help but think that perhaps small dogs smoking cigars might be against the law, until someone says 'No!, don't be stupid! Beagles do it all the time!' and the crowd breathes a sigh of relief.
The relief is only temporary as suddenly Fing appears in his best orange slacks, leaps nimbly over the laughing boy, and starts to Samba like his life depends on it.
As one the crowd reaches a decision.
Maniacs.
The temperature is mild for the time of year.
The sky is grey, people look depressed, no one has any money.
Its January.
In an attempt to cheer the general populace, Trotter and Giggsey Girl the stupid slug Face are busking in the front yard.
Giggsey is on her drum kit and Trotter has a comb with a bit of loo roll wrapped around it into which he is blowing. He isn't really succeeding in making much of a noise, but keeps on laughing as its making his lips tickle.
As Giggsey beats out a heavy metal rif, Trotter can be seen rolling around on the floor, clutching his furry sides and laughing and laughing and laughing.
They have gathered quite a crowd.
The crowd cannot work out what they are supposed to be. A band? Performance artists? Maniacs?
It is not helped by the fact that Truly Scrumptious Lulu is sat in the doorway in her 'Cheeky Chops' T-shirt, Chefs hat, smoking a Cuban cigar and drinking Jack Daniels, whilst staring at the crowd with thinly disguised contempt. 'Plebs' she thinks, and snorts to herself within a vast cloud of acrid smoke.
The crowd can't help but think that perhaps small dogs smoking cigars might be against the law, until someone says 'No!, don't be stupid! Beagles do it all the time!' and the crowd breathes a sigh of relief.
The relief is only temporary as suddenly Fing appears in his best orange slacks, leaps nimbly over the laughing boy, and starts to Samba like his life depends on it.
As one the crowd reaches a decision.
Maniacs.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Audaces Solum
As you are aware Fing does not like to be restrained in any way, and as a result has learned to open all the doors and windows in order to set himself free, to be liberated, just to be out, not told what to do be his human oppressors and all that jazz.
However some days he cant be bothered to force himself out of the kitchen window after wrestling with the Venetian blinds.
Some days he tires of turning the key in the lock.
Some days he miaows, and miaows and miaows in a loud and penetrating voice until you can bear it no more and you release him as a release on your eardrums.
Such as this day, when I let him out into the garden on a rainy day.
Fing was not amused. He sat and watched the rain, tail twitching in a highly irritated manner. He sat and he watched, he watched as he sat, then finally he could bear it no longer.
He asked to come in.
Contrary little bastard.
However some days he cant be bothered to force himself out of the kitchen window after wrestling with the Venetian blinds.
Some days he tires of turning the key in the lock.
Some days he miaows, and miaows and miaows in a loud and penetrating voice until you can bear it no more and you release him as a release on your eardrums.
Such as this day, when I let him out into the garden on a rainy day.
Fing was not amused. He sat and watched the rain, tail twitching in a highly irritated manner. He sat and he watched, he watched as he sat, then finally he could bear it no longer.
He asked to come in.
Contrary little bastard.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
The Great Shoescape
I had forgotten that yesterday was the 12th day.
It took me 2 hours to defrock the house of its festive decorations. An hour and a half of this was carefully spent, some might say anally, very carefully returning each and every bauble to its individual box to ensure its safe keeping until next year.
Reminded that I had lost 3 presents before Christmas, Martha, the Pets and myself embarked on Spring Cleaning of an epic scale.
Of course anything unusual tends to provoke Trotter into wild and unmanageable behaviour, and yesterday was no exception.
As we were feverishly rushing around Trotter decided he didn't like it if we were stood still, so barked at us to try and chivvy us along. Trotter later decided he actually didn't approve of the cleaning and decided to just stand there barking.
I found temporary relief from the barking when tidying Martha's wardrobe, as the walls muffled the frenetic sound and gave the eardrums a moment of respite.
We cleaned the bathroom cupboard and we cleaned out drawers and the blanket box and looked behind the sofa's. No missing presents to be found.
As a result of all this I was unable to embark on my shoe audit, which annoyed Fing greatly. Fing had donned his horn rimmed spectacles in preparation and had made a clipboard, on which he had intended to write an inventory.
I fear the shoe count will have to wait until next Saturday.
It took me 2 hours to defrock the house of its festive decorations. An hour and a half of this was carefully spent, some might say anally, very carefully returning each and every bauble to its individual box to ensure its safe keeping until next year.
Reminded that I had lost 3 presents before Christmas, Martha, the Pets and myself embarked on Spring Cleaning of an epic scale.
Of course anything unusual tends to provoke Trotter into wild and unmanageable behaviour, and yesterday was no exception.
As we were feverishly rushing around Trotter decided he didn't like it if we were stood still, so barked at us to try and chivvy us along. Trotter later decided he actually didn't approve of the cleaning and decided to just stand there barking.
I found temporary relief from the barking when tidying Martha's wardrobe, as the walls muffled the frenetic sound and gave the eardrums a moment of respite.
We cleaned the bathroom cupboard and we cleaned out drawers and the blanket box and looked behind the sofa's. No missing presents to be found.
As a result of all this I was unable to embark on my shoe audit, which annoyed Fing greatly. Fing had donned his horn rimmed spectacles in preparation and had made a clipboard, on which he had intended to write an inventory.
I fear the shoe count will have to wait until next Saturday.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Fortes Fortuna Iuvat
Trotter and Fing will be unavailable for the rest of the day as they are helping me conduct a stock take of my shoes.
Those of you who know me will wish us well and may like to consider saying prayers for us and lighting candles.
Please think of us over the course of the day. If you hear nothing from us by 5 please consider coming round to check up on us. There's always the possibility that we might well be trapped in the cupboard, having been rendered unconscious by a cascade of falling shoe boxes, loose boots and occaisional flip flops.
Thank you for your ongoing support.
L x
Victuals
'Martha!' I called, 'Martha'
She suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs and stuck her head round my door,
'What?' she said,
'Fing would like a fish finger sandwich for breackfast', I advised.
'Fing has been in my room and been to toilet on all my clothes and tried to cover it up with a shoe box' said Marth.
'Dirty Boys don't get fish finger sandwiches', she advised.
'Oh', I said.
Fing calmly watched the open doorway until the sound of Marthas footsteps had reached the groundfloor.
'Possession in 9 tenths of the law' he advised, and went downstairs to see if Trotter fancied a trip to the gym.
She suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs and stuck her head round my door,
'What?' she said,
'Fing would like a fish finger sandwich for breackfast', I advised.
'Fing has been in my room and been to toilet on all my clothes and tried to cover it up with a shoe box' said Marth.
'Dirty Boys don't get fish finger sandwiches', she advised.
'Oh', I said.
Fing calmly watched the open doorway until the sound of Marthas footsteps had reached the groundfloor.
'Possession in 9 tenths of the law' he advised, and went downstairs to see if Trotter fancied a trip to the gym.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Bordom
It is truly dreadful being bored.
Trotter sighed during Eastenders, he sighs as Martha watches Location, Location, Location.
He is hoping the program about midgets and the deformed will cheer him up at 9, but it is an uncertain world.
Its a shame as he was just so impossibly happy earlier. In a series of bowel movements that came as a delightful surprise, Trotter managed to complete 3 quite sizable deposits upstairs.
One, teasing you by the door jam into my bedroom, a dangerous one just out of sight round Marthas bedroom door which might have been good for a laugh if she hadn't noticed it and skiddied across the bedroom floor, and the third smack bang in the middle of my bedroom floor, just by Tutz scratchy pole.
He sighs, he had been so happy over the 3 poo's that he had raced around the table 3 times.
Never mind.
Bring on the dwarfs!
Trotter sighed during Eastenders, he sighs as Martha watches Location, Location, Location.
He is hoping the program about midgets and the deformed will cheer him up at 9, but it is an uncertain world.
Its a shame as he was just so impossibly happy earlier. In a series of bowel movements that came as a delightful surprise, Trotter managed to complete 3 quite sizable deposits upstairs.
One, teasing you by the door jam into my bedroom, a dangerous one just out of sight round Marthas bedroom door which might have been good for a laugh if she hadn't noticed it and skiddied across the bedroom floor, and the third smack bang in the middle of my bedroom floor, just by Tutz scratchy pole.
He sighs, he had been so happy over the 3 poo's that he had raced around the table 3 times.
Never mind.
Bring on the dwarfs!
Dreadfulenders
Totter and Fing have just watched Eastenders and cant help but feel that Sonia would greatly benefit from being strangled.
Or perhaps having her head boiled in a pot.
Anything to shut her up infact.
Or perhaps having her head boiled in a pot.
Anything to shut her up infact.
Day?
It is Thursday, which is a blessed relief, as due to the bank holiday everyone is a bit out of kilter.
Trotter put the bins out Tuesday, thinking it was Wednesday, and was forced to savage the bags when he found them still in place yesterday.
Lulu thought it was Friday, which is obviously baking day and has confused everyone with the smell of confectioneries in the kitchen.
Fing, confused by the confectionery, attacked Martha as she didn't prepare Fish for supper as it was in fact Wednesday.
Tutz? Tutz is still living in 1942 as far as we are aware. Occasionally she dons a hard hat and stares up at the sky looking for Messerschmidt's and Spitfire's. No one would mind but occasionally she forces everyone into a bunker she has made under neath the bed where they are forced to drink overly brewed tea and eat hard biscuits.
Meanwhile, in another alternative reality, Lucas by Day - Duncan by Night has been standing mesmerised in the rain. He stands happily in the deluge watching the raindrops as they bounce back from the yard. He stands and he stands until Lu calls him to come in, soaking wet. He has been in the rain for an hour and a half, where, despite the arctic conditions, 80 miles per hour winds and the sleet, he was as happy as a pig in shit, but obviously cleaner because of the rain.
Trotter put the bins out Tuesday, thinking it was Wednesday, and was forced to savage the bags when he found them still in place yesterday.
Lulu thought it was Friday, which is obviously baking day and has confused everyone with the smell of confectioneries in the kitchen.
Fing, confused by the confectionery, attacked Martha as she didn't prepare Fish for supper as it was in fact Wednesday.
Tutz? Tutz is still living in 1942 as far as we are aware. Occasionally she dons a hard hat and stares up at the sky looking for Messerschmidt's and Spitfire's. No one would mind but occasionally she forces everyone into a bunker she has made under neath the bed where they are forced to drink overly brewed tea and eat hard biscuits.
Meanwhile, in another alternative reality, Lucas by Day - Duncan by Night has been standing mesmerised in the rain. He stands happily in the deluge watching the raindrops as they bounce back from the yard. He stands and he stands until Lu calls him to come in, soaking wet. He has been in the rain for an hour and a half, where, despite the arctic conditions, 80 miles per hour winds and the sleet, he was as happy as a pig in shit, but obviously cleaner because of the rain.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
In the Beginning
Fings Father had often hoped he would become a boxer. He looked at his son with his outsize paws and general bad attitude and was convinced he could rise to become kitty-weight champion.
Unfortunatley Fing's interest in the classics and aesthetics and his love of Samba meant that he would have nothing to do with his Fathers wishes. They would argue into the early hours until Fing was forced to run away and take up with a travelling Circus.
He was known as Fing the Fantabulous, and would amaze everyone with his Samba, Card Tricks and his renditions of Westlife Classics. Sometimes he would double up as a clown, or would agree to be shot from the Cannon, although only grudgingly as it tended to wreack havoc with his fur.
Sometimes he would take money at the gate, sometimes help the contortionist back into a reasonable position.
His time with the fair was a happy one, but he knew that there were other adventures to be had, new horizons to find, Samba dancing competions and, above all else, some one to love.
So he set off with his savings and a spotted hanky on a stick containing all his prize possessions, said goodbye to the circus and walked off into the sunset wisteling a jaunty tune.
You may wonder how a boy with such lowly beginnings went on to own a ferrari?
Its a very long story.
Giggsey Girl the Stretchy Slug Face
In her childhood, Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face always dreamed of being a ballerina.
She attended Ballet classes full of haughty Siamese with their perfect spindly bodies, who looked down their pedigree noses at poor Giggsey Girl and her robust, compact, frame.
They looked elegant in their points and Tutu's whereas Giggsey Girl just looked faintly ridiculous with her fat little black thighs almost eclipsed by the mesh. She tried so hard but when you're a sturdy girl you just cant be a ballerina.
She instead went on to become a champion kick boxer and a black belt in karete.
Go Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face!
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
The morning after the night and day before
It was almost pointless tidying up, Fing and Trotter have awoken to a filthy house after the new years revelries.
Fing danced the night away at Cloud9, while Trotter and some friends played poker with an occasional game of cheat into the early hours.
Then everyone piled back t the house, tried a spot of cross dressing and then collapsed in a heap and lay fast asleep until midday.
Trotter is running a rag over the kitchen tops, Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face is polishing everything with her stupid shiny body.
Fat Boy Faggot is cleaning the bathroom in a pair of marigolds and Lulu is rearranging her nest of comfy clothes in Marthas bedroom.
Its a bit belated, but we at Trotter and Fing wish you a very Happy New Year. We hope it is full of wonderful surprises, and kisses and moonbeams and everything your heart can dream for. Failing that, lets hope it was better than last year.
Fing danced the night away at Cloud9, while Trotter and some friends played poker with an occasional game of cheat into the early hours.
Then everyone piled back t the house, tried a spot of cross dressing and then collapsed in a heap and lay fast asleep until midday.
Trotter is running a rag over the kitchen tops, Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face is polishing everything with her stupid shiny body.
Fat Boy Faggot is cleaning the bathroom in a pair of marigolds and Lulu is rearranging her nest of comfy clothes in Marthas bedroom.
Its a bit belated, but we at Trotter and Fing wish you a very Happy New Year. We hope it is full of wonderful surprises, and kisses and moonbeams and everything your heart can dream for. Failing that, lets hope it was better than last year.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Pre NYE
It is utter chaos.
The house looks like it hasnt been cleaned in a million years and tomorrow Prior, Milly and Paz are descending for New Years Eve.
Its just crazy, as you are aware the house is the size of of size 3 shoe box and the problem is, where do the pets put all their Christmas Presents when all the cupboards are so heavily over burdened already?
The tidying is not being helped as Fings mind is elsewhere, normally the natural leader of the pets, his mind is still realing from last night at the Coven when he witnessed an impossibly fat woman being fingered on the dance floor. Thankfully Colin the Doorman interviened, for fear the man may loose his arm.
As a result he cannot concentrate on the job in hand as images of cellulite ridden thighs writhing on the dancefloor still torment his poor feline mind.
He is sitting on the sofa as the rest of the pets work as one in an effort to tidy, yet on mass working against each other.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face will carefully move a pile of magazines into the kitchen to be thrown away, the Lulu upon finding them there, takes them back to the sitting room as they belong on the coffee table.
Add to this Trotter, to whom cleaning is a dirty word, tossing cushions about and generally running amok with an occaisional bark at the coffee table.
I am wondering if the house will ever be clean.
The house looks like it hasnt been cleaned in a million years and tomorrow Prior, Milly and Paz are descending for New Years Eve.
Its just crazy, as you are aware the house is the size of of size 3 shoe box and the problem is, where do the pets put all their Christmas Presents when all the cupboards are so heavily over burdened already?
The tidying is not being helped as Fings mind is elsewhere, normally the natural leader of the pets, his mind is still realing from last night at the Coven when he witnessed an impossibly fat woman being fingered on the dance floor. Thankfully Colin the Doorman interviened, for fear the man may loose his arm.
As a result he cannot concentrate on the job in hand as images of cellulite ridden thighs writhing on the dancefloor still torment his poor feline mind.
He is sitting on the sofa as the rest of the pets work as one in an effort to tidy, yet on mass working against each other.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face will carefully move a pile of magazines into the kitchen to be thrown away, the Lulu upon finding them there, takes them back to the sitting room as they belong on the coffee table.
Add to this Trotter, to whom cleaning is a dirty word, tossing cushions about and generally running amok with an occaisional bark at the coffee table.
I am wondering if the house will ever be clean.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Portrait
Teeny Tiny Margo was very surprised when she discovered that her portrait was to be hung in the National Portrait Gallery.
She isn't sure she likes it.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
A Year In Pictures
In June this year, Fing was pleased to see that his famous bear catching cousin, Jack, was still up to his old tricks, despite being crippled with arthritis and suffering from chronic hairballs.
In the summer Trotter and Fing took acid and the sky melted.
In the spring I was mugged by these street ducks and spent a week recovering from a heavily bruised shin from several nasty pecks.
Inbetween Times
And so we are in a wierd place, half way between the 2 biggest piss ups each year.
Christmas has passed, Trotter has been recovering from all the excitement by being played soothing music and having cold compresses applied to his hot forehead by Fing.
Tutz and Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face have gone to the Christmas sales and come back with all kinds of unusual crap that they were very pleasd with.
Lulu is sulking as she was given a stripy T shirt saying 'Cutie - Pie' which Martha has been forcing her to wear. She finds it slightly incongrous that she should be a cutie pie with a cuban cigar hanging from her mouth and a half finished bottle of Jack next to her. She is sulking in the sitting room watching Stepford Wives, which she is finding bizzarely entertaining.
Fat Boy Faggot is having a lovely bubble bath and is reading Agatha Christies 'Murder on the orient express' He has a glass of champagne on the edge of the bath and his head is encased in a shower cap to keep his ears dry.
The pets are not sure what they will be doing on New Years Eve yet, will it be the Brewery Gate? Probably.
Christmas has passed, Trotter has been recovering from all the excitement by being played soothing music and having cold compresses applied to his hot forehead by Fing.
Tutz and Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face have gone to the Christmas sales and come back with all kinds of unusual crap that they were very pleasd with.
Lulu is sulking as she was given a stripy T shirt saying 'Cutie - Pie' which Martha has been forcing her to wear. She finds it slightly incongrous that she should be a cutie pie with a cuban cigar hanging from her mouth and a half finished bottle of Jack next to her. She is sulking in the sitting room watching Stepford Wives, which she is finding bizzarely entertaining.
Fat Boy Faggot is having a lovely bubble bath and is reading Agatha Christies 'Murder on the orient express' He has a glass of champagne on the edge of the bath and his head is encased in a shower cap to keep his ears dry.
The pets are not sure what they will be doing on New Years Eve yet, will it be the Brewery Gate? Probably.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Its Snowing in Trotter land
Its all to much for a boy.
Trotter awoke at half past 3 this morning, filled with such a heady excitement that it proved impossible to go back to sleep.
He knew his stocking was hanging at the end of his basket, but was too wracked with nerves to go and see if Santa had left him anything else but a lump of coal.
Fing had always told him that if he was bad, and too be fair, bad is what Trotter does best, all he would receive would be a lump of coal in his stocking.
And so the long hours passed with Trotter fidgeting in his basket, until finally, Tutz appeared wearing half a cracker for a hat.
'Prroot?' she asked, then went to sit by the Christmas angel and proceeded to whistle 'Land of Hope and Glory', completely off key. Trotter wondered if this was a sign from the Lord, but hoped not as it would mean that God, should he exist, was completely and utterly barking mad.
He sighed in a dejected manner.
Half an hour later Fing arrived, the master of ceremonies and gathered all off the pets into the sitting room to open their presents.
Fat Boy Faggot had received some bath oils, fragrant drawer liners and a bottle of cognac.
Tutz had received some new CD's, a framed picture of 50 cent and a scarf and gloves.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west had a bottle of Jack, some fine Cuban cigars and a Delia Smith cookery book.
Fing had some new slacks for dancing in, a pair of tap shoes and a clarinet.
Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face had a black widow catapult, marbles and some itching powder.
At last it was Trotters turn, he sniffed the opening of his stocking in an experimental manner, and was delighted when a wonderful smell emanated from the opening. It was a cheese board! Filled with cheese from around the world! Stinky old Stilton, mild emmental, strong Cheddar with caramelised onions, brie and boursin!
All in all it was just too much for the boy to bear, he ate all the cheese in a matter of moments, then, pushed to the brink by over indulging and lack of sleep went on a rampage of frenzied barking and mischief making, which kind of proved that all he really should have received was that lump of coal.
Finally, exhausted, he has collapsed by the Christmas tree and is dreaming dreams of electric sleep.
A very happy Christmas to you all.
Trotter awoke at half past 3 this morning, filled with such a heady excitement that it proved impossible to go back to sleep.
He knew his stocking was hanging at the end of his basket, but was too wracked with nerves to go and see if Santa had left him anything else but a lump of coal.
Fing had always told him that if he was bad, and too be fair, bad is what Trotter does best, all he would receive would be a lump of coal in his stocking.
And so the long hours passed with Trotter fidgeting in his basket, until finally, Tutz appeared wearing half a cracker for a hat.
'Prroot?' she asked, then went to sit by the Christmas angel and proceeded to whistle 'Land of Hope and Glory', completely off key. Trotter wondered if this was a sign from the Lord, but hoped not as it would mean that God, should he exist, was completely and utterly barking mad.
He sighed in a dejected manner.
Half an hour later Fing arrived, the master of ceremonies and gathered all off the pets into the sitting room to open their presents.
Fat Boy Faggot had received some bath oils, fragrant drawer liners and a bottle of cognac.
Tutz had received some new CD's, a framed picture of 50 cent and a scarf and gloves.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest dog in the west had a bottle of Jack, some fine Cuban cigars and a Delia Smith cookery book.
Fing had some new slacks for dancing in, a pair of tap shoes and a clarinet.
Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face had a black widow catapult, marbles and some itching powder.
At last it was Trotters turn, he sniffed the opening of his stocking in an experimental manner, and was delighted when a wonderful smell emanated from the opening. It was a cheese board! Filled with cheese from around the world! Stinky old Stilton, mild emmental, strong Cheddar with caramelised onions, brie and boursin!
All in all it was just too much for the boy to bear, he ate all the cheese in a matter of moments, then, pushed to the brink by over indulging and lack of sleep went on a rampage of frenzied barking and mischief making, which kind of proved that all he really should have received was that lump of coal.
Finally, exhausted, he has collapsed by the Christmas tree and is dreaming dreams of electric sleep.
A very happy Christmas to you all.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Panto
Martha has returned from her annual festive trip to hell and back, in which she is forced to travel to Hereford to visit her cruel and unusual stepmother, the evil Betty.
In a scrip similar to a pantomine, Martha, like soome hard done by Cinderella, is forced to help the spiteful and malicious stepmother back to Oxford.
Unfortunately Betty never turns into a pumpkin, or receive the just desserts of all fairy tail baddies, but continues to prosper in her beautiful abode packed full of antiques.
Yo, and verily, it is such that only the good die young and Betty is infact 700 years old and has a pact with Be-elzebub, in which she never ages and in return has agreed to inflict torments on all around her.
Poor Martha.
In a scrip similar to a pantomine, Martha, like soome hard done by Cinderella, is forced to help the spiteful and malicious stepmother back to Oxford.
Unfortunately Betty never turns into a pumpkin, or receive the just desserts of all fairy tail baddies, but continues to prosper in her beautiful abode packed full of antiques.
Yo, and verily, it is such that only the good die young and Betty is infact 700 years old and has a pact with Be-elzebub, in which she never ages and in return has agreed to inflict torments on all around her.
Poor Martha.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Hope, Faith and CHARITY
'BBBRRRRRrrrrrrrrrr', Trotters teeth chatter in the icy mist of the morning, 'Bbbbrbbrrrrrrr'
It is so cold that all the spiders webs have frozen solid and are likely to shatter if touched.
This means that all the spiders are in temporary accommodation in Thelma's Rosemary bush and are being served soup in plastic cups by volunteers from the Red Cross. Trotters is very concerned as some of the spiders are elderly so he is helping to drape the worlds smallest blankets over their 8 spindly legs and is helping them to sit old cushions donated by the public.
This time of year is not just about getting pissed with your mates, its not just about presents and Father Christmas and being with your family.
Think about all the homeless people out there, shivering in the cold.
To be fair, you all know I don't give a shit about the homeless, but remember that the homeless have dogs. So if you see a shivering homeless person in the street with a homeless dog sitting next to them, perhaps you would like to think about popping into Sainsburys and buying that dog some food, or a toy or a treat.
To be fair, you all know I don't give a shit about the homeless, but remember that the homeless have dogs. So if you see a shivering homeless person in the street with a homeless dog sitting next to them, perhaps you would like to think about popping into Sainsburys and buying that dog some food, or a toy or a treat.
A Dog is for Life, not just for Christmas.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Appetite for Destruction
After the success of the Royal Albert the pets felt elated and full of Christmas Joy de Vie. They hummed and sang and danced, imagined that it had snowed and put of the Christmas Tree.
When they had put up the Christmas Tree they all sat on the sofa in a long furry line and watched 'Its a wonderful life' on DVD.
Having watched the DVD they decided to go to Salisbury's. Fing made sure everyone had their woolly hats and scarves on, loaded Lulu, Tutz and Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face into the trolley and set off.
It was quite an exciting trip. In an idle moment a couple of weeks ago Fing and Fat Boy Faggot had devised a special harness to attach Trotter to the Trolley and today was the first time for the roughly hewn prototype to be tried out.
They waited until they had got safely across the lights, then helped Trotter into the harness, and attached it to the trolley. Trotter was enormously excited and looked very resplendent in his World War 2 Fighter Pilot Jacket and leather cap with ear flaps.
Fing and Fat Boy jumped onto the sides of the Trolley and they were off!
Given Trotters propensity for running as fast as a cheeter on speed and the derelict nature of the shopping trolley it was perhaps, an accident waiting to happen.
They set off up the road at nealy 70mph, with Trotters legs hairing up the pavement, ear flaps on his hat flying backwards in the wind. Fing and Fat Boy gripping on for dear life, eyes almost closed, the intense speed, like G Force, contorting their tiny faces.
Inside the Trolley it was chaos, having not thought of the notion of seat beats, Lulu, Giggsey Girl and Tutz were being thrown around left right and centre, almost as if they were in a large and unwieldy maraca, but obviously not as rattly, more a muted cacophony of 'MEWS!, 'YELPS' and 'OUCH's'.
It couldnt of ended calmly, not realistically. No one had warned Trotter about corners, no one had thought to tell the boy to perhaps slow down. No.
It was carnage, as Trotter took the corner at nearly 80mph the front left wheel of the trolley hit a tiny, inconspicuous stone and took to the air.
Fing and the Fag ended up in the tree, Tutz, Giggs and Lulu all mangled in the bushes, and Trotter? Trotter hadn't even noticed, he was still running in the middle distance pulling nothing but a set of wheels, a faint plume of smoke coming from the wreckage.
After they had extricated themselves from the shrubbery, Lulu and Tutz helped the boys down from the tree, Giggsey Girl was sent to Salisbury's to buy some brandy and they all set off home, like a bunch of wounded soldiers, without bandages perhaps, but all a bit dusty and rather tatty and feeling very sorry for themselves.
Except Trotter! Trotter was already at home, panting by the front gate, harness still attached, the destroyed trolley frame behind him, a look of shocked surprise in his eyes.
'What happened to you guys?' he asked in amazement.
Nothing was said, Fing and Faggy helped Trotter out of the harness, which was then taken to the dustbin shed and tossed unceremoniously into a bin.
When they had put up the Christmas Tree they all sat on the sofa in a long furry line and watched 'Its a wonderful life' on DVD.
Having watched the DVD they decided to go to Salisbury's. Fing made sure everyone had their woolly hats and scarves on, loaded Lulu, Tutz and Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face into the trolley and set off.
It was quite an exciting trip. In an idle moment a couple of weeks ago Fing and Fat Boy Faggot had devised a special harness to attach Trotter to the Trolley and today was the first time for the roughly hewn prototype to be tried out.
They waited until they had got safely across the lights, then helped Trotter into the harness, and attached it to the trolley. Trotter was enormously excited and looked very resplendent in his World War 2 Fighter Pilot Jacket and leather cap with ear flaps.
Fing and Fat Boy jumped onto the sides of the Trolley and they were off!
Given Trotters propensity for running as fast as a cheeter on speed and the derelict nature of the shopping trolley it was perhaps, an accident waiting to happen.
They set off up the road at nealy 70mph, with Trotters legs hairing up the pavement, ear flaps on his hat flying backwards in the wind. Fing and Fat Boy gripping on for dear life, eyes almost closed, the intense speed, like G Force, contorting their tiny faces.
Inside the Trolley it was chaos, having not thought of the notion of seat beats, Lulu, Giggsey Girl and Tutz were being thrown around left right and centre, almost as if they were in a large and unwieldy maraca, but obviously not as rattly, more a muted cacophony of 'MEWS!, 'YELPS' and 'OUCH's'.
It couldnt of ended calmly, not realistically. No one had warned Trotter about corners, no one had thought to tell the boy to perhaps slow down. No.
It was carnage, as Trotter took the corner at nearly 80mph the front left wheel of the trolley hit a tiny, inconspicuous stone and took to the air.
Fing and the Fag ended up in the tree, Tutz, Giggs and Lulu all mangled in the bushes, and Trotter? Trotter hadn't even noticed, he was still running in the middle distance pulling nothing but a set of wheels, a faint plume of smoke coming from the wreckage.
After they had extricated themselves from the shrubbery, Lulu and Tutz helped the boys down from the tree, Giggsey Girl was sent to Salisbury's to buy some brandy and they all set off home, like a bunch of wounded soldiers, without bandages perhaps, but all a bit dusty and rather tatty and feeling very sorry for themselves.
Except Trotter! Trotter was already at home, panting by the front gate, harness still attached, the destroyed trolley frame behind him, a look of shocked surprise in his eyes.
'What happened to you guys?' he asked in amazement.
Nothing was said, Fing and Faggy helped Trotter out of the harness, which was then taken to the dustbin shed and tossed unceremoniously into a bin.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Faithless
The Carol Service at the Albert went down a storm.
The audience went wild as the 6 pets walked on stage, the boys in tuxedo's and the girls in gowns.
The first song, an accapella version of 'Marys Boy Child' was greeted with cautious applause, but when Trotter did his solo 'Silent Night' a brace of German Shepperd's in the front row were so overwhelmed they stormed the stage and had to escorted off by security.
Tutz sat on a stool and chirped her way through 'O little town of Bethlehem' with some supportive festive wailing in the background by the slug face.
Throughout all, Fing, resplendent in black velvet, Dickie bow firmly under chin, waived his baton, with a steely glint in his already determined eye. So much so that Fat Boy Faggot had an attack of the vapours and had to go for a lay down round the back and had to be soothed by having napkins fanned in his fat furry face.
All the pets took their turn, and the applause grew louder and louder, until the finale, when Shane McGowen joined the pets on stage to play the piano for 'Fairytale'
They had a standing ovation, flowers were thrown, a rather giddy peke threw her collar at Trotter in a sultry and suggestive manner, Trotter, being a bit on the daft side, threw it back and nearly brained her.
It was a night to be treasured and remembered.
The Preachers Lane Pet Choir say thank you, and goodnight!
The audience went wild as the 6 pets walked on stage, the boys in tuxedo's and the girls in gowns.
The first song, an accapella version of 'Marys Boy Child' was greeted with cautious applause, but when Trotter did his solo 'Silent Night' a brace of German Shepperd's in the front row were so overwhelmed they stormed the stage and had to escorted off by security.
Tutz sat on a stool and chirped her way through 'O little town of Bethlehem' with some supportive festive wailing in the background by the slug face.
Throughout all, Fing, resplendent in black velvet, Dickie bow firmly under chin, waived his baton, with a steely glint in his already determined eye. So much so that Fat Boy Faggot had an attack of the vapours and had to go for a lay down round the back and had to be soothed by having napkins fanned in his fat furry face.
All the pets took their turn, and the applause grew louder and louder, until the finale, when Shane McGowen joined the pets on stage to play the piano for 'Fairytale'
They had a standing ovation, flowers were thrown, a rather giddy peke threw her collar at Trotter in a sultry and suggestive manner, Trotter, being a bit on the daft side, threw it back and nearly brained her.
It was a night to be treasured and remembered.
The Preachers Lane Pet Choir say thank you, and goodnight!
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Concert
It was an evening of fraught nerves, all last night came the sound of gut wrenching vomiting as the pets nerves got the better of them. Performing at the Royal Albert Hall is not to be taken lightly, not by anyone, least of all 6 pets from Oxford.
Fing has given the troops a bit of a rallying talk and has managed to get all of the pets onto a mini bus hired specially for the occasion.
Varne and Mrs Warboise had gathered especially to wave the pets off and cheer with gusto as the mini bus pulls off.
Tutz is in the front with the driver, making odd chirruping sounds and eating lemon sherbets.
Trotter is barking out the back window in a frenetic and disturbed manner.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face and Fat Boy Faggot are conserving their energy by sleeping.
Lulu is eating everyone else's packed lunches, she will later blame it on an attack of nerves, knowing full well it was plain fat greed that prompted the decision.
Fing is waiving his baton and thinking about the evenings performance.
It's a tough job, but someone has to do it.
Fing has given the troops a bit of a rallying talk and has managed to get all of the pets onto a mini bus hired specially for the occasion.
Varne and Mrs Warboise had gathered especially to wave the pets off and cheer with gusto as the mini bus pulls off.
Tutz is in the front with the driver, making odd chirruping sounds and eating lemon sherbets.
Trotter is barking out the back window in a frenetic and disturbed manner.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face and Fat Boy Faggot are conserving their energy by sleeping.
Lulu is eating everyone else's packed lunches, she will later blame it on an attack of nerves, knowing full well it was plain fat greed that prompted the decision.
Fing is waiving his baton and thinking about the evenings performance.
It's a tough job, but someone has to do it.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Extinct
I don't know about you, but 'Extinct' left me in tears last night.
What is wrong with man kind that all they can do is destroy?
The saddest thing about this program is that they are asking you to vote to save one species, HELLO? Shouldn't we all be doing everything we can to save all of them? Isn't each and every one of those animals unique and irreplaceable?
Please give money to the WWF, you can do this directly at
http://wwf.org.uk
or donate with
http://www.giveasyouearn.org
either way your money can help save animals, birds and fish from being wiped off the face of this world.
What is wrong with man kind that all they can do is destroy?
The saddest thing about this program is that they are asking you to vote to save one species, HELLO? Shouldn't we all be doing everything we can to save all of them? Isn't each and every one of those animals unique and irreplaceable?
Please give money to the WWF, you can do this directly at
http://wwf.org.uk
or donate with
http://www.giveasyouearn.org
either way your money can help save animals, birds and fish from being wiped off the face of this world.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Belief
Contrary to the belief of idiot cuntryside alliance fox hunting morons, Fox's do not enjoy being chased for miles across open countryside by a bunch of wankers on horseback then being ripped to pieces by a bunch of slavering dogs.
Fox's much prefer getting into hen coups and killing all the chickens, just for fun.
They like upsetting the countryside alliance by killing pheasants designed for the shoot.
They like to tap dance in the moonlight and listen to free style jazz concerts without paying to get in.
Wouldn't it be lovely if we could round up all the aforementioned idiot hunters, strip them naked, then chase them for miles across open countryside and all cheer with great enthusiasm when they got ripped to shred's by a pack of slavering dogs?
I mean, come on! Not only would it resolve the fox hunting issue but would also halve unemployment in the countryside.
Surely it's worth thinking about?
Fox's much prefer getting into hen coups and killing all the chickens, just for fun.
They like upsetting the countryside alliance by killing pheasants designed for the shoot.
They like to tap dance in the moonlight and listen to free style jazz concerts without paying to get in.
Wouldn't it be lovely if we could round up all the aforementioned idiot hunters, strip them naked, then chase them for miles across open countryside and all cheer with great enthusiasm when they got ripped to shred's by a pack of slavering dogs?
I mean, come on! Not only would it resolve the fox hunting issue but would also halve unemployment in the countryside.
Surely it's worth thinking about?
Fox Hunters
Fox HuntersDid you know that in Cockney Rhyming Slang, the term 'Berk' actually means 'Cunt'?
The Royal Berkshire Hunt = Cunt.
Its official.
The Royal Berkshire Hunt are the Cunts in the Countryside Alliance.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Baking Day
It was Gingerbread madness in the house yesterday.Stuart and Shane arrived within minutes of each other to an expectant and excited group of pets, and almost immediately they all went into town to buy ingredients and cutters to make Gingerbread men, women, stars and angels.
It seemed at first that the day was destined for disaster, there were no cutters to be found in Whitards, Dyers or Boswells. Thankfully Debenhams had stocked up!
They walked back to Sainsburys to buy all their cookie ingredients to find, alas! No Ginger!
Shane set off with a determined stride to Holland and Barratt, where he was forced to buy a bag of ginger the size of Belgium, so not to dissapoint the pets.
Ingredients purchased they got back home and whipped up some dough, which didn't go to plan, first of all it was so dry it was, in fact, more a crumble than a dough, but by adding more melted butter they eventually made large ball of dough and put it into the fridge to firm up.
While it was firming up Stuart, Shane and Truly Scrumptious Lulu smoked cigars and had a small sweet sherry whilst watching Extreme makeover. Fat Boy Faggot, Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face and Trotter busied them selves in the kitchen, making sure the oven was on and wiping down the tops. Fing sat on the kitchen top and fiddled with the tubes of coloured icing and wondered how he would decorate his cookies.
Eventually Shane announced that the dough was ready and every one gathered to watch. Stuart rolled the dough while Shane gave instructions, then one by one, with cutters in their tiny paws, the pets came forward to cut out their cookies.
Trotter came first. Unfortunately for Trotter the pastry had been cut too thin and when he tried to take the cookie from the kitchen top to the tray, the head fell of and landed on Tutz head, where it stayed for the rest of the day, like a gingerbread Tam O'Shanter.
There were various accidents until the tray was full with all the pets cookies. Giggsey Girls Gingerbread woman had a lopsy arm, Lulu's Gingerbread man had a strangely contorted head.
Fing made a series of stars in which he cut smaller stars and filled them with crushed boiled sweets to make opaque windows.
I dont know if it was the sherry but rather tragically while everyone was chatting away and laughing the first tray of cookies were absolutely incinerated and came out black as night from the oven, the kitchen filled with an acrid smoke. Trotter stared in horrified disbelief at the charred remains of his headless gingerbread man, quietly smoking on the tray.
But we learned from this mistake and the next 3 trays of Gingerbread came out perfect.
The pets then got the tubes of icing and spent ages decorating their cookies, dipping them in chocolate, drizzling white icing across, drawing faces with the ready made icing in tubes.
Friday, December 08, 2006
The World Famous Pet Choir
You are cordially invited to the Royal Albert Hall on Weds 14th December
for an evening audience with
TrotterandFing and Friends
Tickets are £180, with no concessions for scabby students, we don't do cheap seats
All proceeds will be donated to an off licence near by.
Christmas is a time for sharing.
(And getting blind drunk)
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the Chubbiest Dog in the West was once employed by George Lucas in the film 'Return of the Jedi' in which she played a battle hardened Ewok.Sadly, there have been no further film roles for Lulu.
Theres only so much you can do when you're a foot tall, covered in hair, and cuter than a box full of kittens.
Idioms
You know when something is like, top dollar, good? On occaisions such as these people can be heard to say, 'The Dogs Bollocks'
Infact, I would say that Trotter is 'The Dogs Bollocks'.
I have decided that I do not wish to refer to my boy, Fing, as the 'Bollocks' however, and have decided that he really is, 'The Cats Whiskers'.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Advent Carnage
Trotter is very upset.
Someone very naughty indeed has opened every single window of his advent calender, eaten the chocolates, then closed the doors behind them.
Fing is consoling the poor poor distraught angel, with a paw on his shoulder he looks to the other pets to try and locate the chocolate thief.
Fat Boy Faggot reclines in the bath, 'Don't be stupid Dahhlliing', he purrs, 'Once on the lips, a lifetime on the hips'.
Lulu says, 'Don't be stupid! I'm too short to reach the kitchen top!'
Tutz says nothing at all as she hangs upside down from her scratchy pole pretending to be a fruit bat, obviously beyond reproach in her studied and complete madness.
Who does it leave?
Why! Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face!
Where is the most naughtiest of tinkers, the most troublesome of girls?
She is on top of the TV with a smug look on her slug like lips, the proverbial cat who had the cream, although in this instance, the cat who had 17 milk chocolate treats.
And to make it worse, she just doesn't care!
Bad, Bad, Giggsey Girl!
Fing gives her a steely eyed stare and warns that Father Christmas doe's not bring presents to the bad, only the good, and that he is certain that she will be on the list for a lump of coal.
But Giggsey Girl shrugs it off and lay's down in her favourite spot and dreams she is Willy Wonka and Lulu an Oumpa Lumpa.
'Don't worry Trotter', says Fing, 'It's probably a good job she ate them all anyway'
'How do you work that out?' cries Trotter!
'Well, remember the year that you ate all the Quality Street at Christmas and nearly killed yourself? Remember? We found you underneath the Christmas Tree holding onto your tummy and moaning, all covered in sparkly chocolate wrappers?'
Trotter, who was only a tiny baby at the time, had not remembered this at all and is secretly relieved that Gigg's had all the sweets.
The problem resolved Fing pours them all a glass of port and they sit down to watch 'The Nightmare Before Christmas' whilst tucking into some stilton and some lovely home made pickled onions.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Snob
Sometimes Fing wishes that he didn't live in a world full of heathans.
That he, and he alone, were not the only cultured animal in the house.
How on earth is one supposed to listen to the Archers with Trotter singing tunelessly, Tutz redesigning her scratchy pole, Fat Boy Faggot and Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face playing cheat loudly in the bath and Lulu playing drums in the kitchen?
Sometimes, he thinks that it is almost just too much to bear.
That he, and he alone, were not the only cultured animal in the house.
How on earth is one supposed to listen to the Archers with Trotter singing tunelessly, Tutz redesigning her scratchy pole, Fat Boy Faggot and Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face playing cheat loudly in the bath and Lulu playing drums in the kitchen?
Sometimes, he thinks that it is almost just too much to bear.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Tipple
Trotter was very excited when a large box arrived, delivered by a surly delivery man with no Christmas spirit what so ever.
He was, however, very disapointed to discover that the Christmas Hamper was full of neat spirits and that his box full of Bicardi Breezer's, Reef's, and other assorted AlcoPops had not been delivered.
It was at the point that a burly Lulu pushed Trotter out of the way, 'I think you'll find thats mine' she said, took a puff on her Cuban cigar and then made off with the Jack Daniels.
'I think you'll find thats mine' said Fing, who then snuck off with the baileys.
'Actually, i think that might be mine' said Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face, hugging the Southern Comfort to her chest.
'And if i'm not mistaken, I think that one must be mine' said Fat boy Faggot, licking his lips as he opens the Malibu.
'PRROOOT!', says Tutz, 'PPRRROOOOTTT', and makes off with the Pernod, as she is, and always will be, completely insane and not to be held responsible for her own actions.
Trotter stared into the empty box and wished his AlcoPops would arrive.
He was, however, very disapointed to discover that the Christmas Hamper was full of neat spirits and that his box full of Bicardi Breezer's, Reef's, and other assorted AlcoPops had not been delivered.
It was at the point that a burly Lulu pushed Trotter out of the way, 'I think you'll find thats mine' she said, took a puff on her Cuban cigar and then made off with the Jack Daniels.
'I think you'll find thats mine' said Fing, who then snuck off with the baileys.
'Actually, i think that might be mine' said Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face, hugging the Southern Comfort to her chest.
'And if i'm not mistaken, I think that one must be mine' said Fat boy Faggot, licking his lips as he opens the Malibu.
'PRROOOT!', says Tutz, 'PPRRROOOOTTT', and makes off with the Pernod, as she is, and always will be, completely insane and not to be held responsible for her own actions.
Trotter stared into the empty box and wished his AlcoPops would arrive.
Friday, December 01, 2006
World AIDS Day
I am finding it difficult to think of what to write as everything I say is normally so flippant.
AIDS, obviously, is not a subject for flippant remarks or jokes made in bad taste.
So, in that vein, all I will say is:
'To those that dont, Wear condoms you fucking idiots! Take responsibility for your own life and the lives of others!'
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Contemplation
It was with complete and utter delight that Fing happened to stumble across some Worcestershire Sauce flavour Wheat Chrunchies in a small newsagents on St Giles earlier.
He had quite forgotten they existed and was over the moon.
He stopped to consider Monster Munch, had they really been much larger than they are today, or was it just that his paws had got bigger?
He had quite forgotten they existed and was over the moon.
He stopped to consider Monster Munch, had they really been much larger than they are today, or was it just that his paws had got bigger?
Never take
Last night was horrible.
Trotter had some sort of seizure and didn't know who any of us were. He was frightened of us all and wouldn't come for a cuddle. He sat at the top of the stairs and wouldn't speak to anyone, even though Fing, Faggot and Fizzgigg tried their hardest by weaving their stupid slinky bodies around his and miaowing in his face.
It got so bad we wanted to take him to our vet, Mr Gore, but he advised us to leave him to his own devises and see how he was in the morning, 'He is, after all' he said 'a very unusual little dog'.
He didn't come to until this morning, after a night of shivering and unhappiness.
I sat and stroked him and suddenly he looked at me and it was like the mist was gone from his mind and he suddenly wagged his tail and grumbled at me then went to lick Faggot on the head.
A bit of a lesson never to take anything for granted I think.
Trotter had some sort of seizure and didn't know who any of us were. He was frightened of us all and wouldn't come for a cuddle. He sat at the top of the stairs and wouldn't speak to anyone, even though Fing, Faggot and Fizzgigg tried their hardest by weaving their stupid slinky bodies around his and miaowing in his face.
It got so bad we wanted to take him to our vet, Mr Gore, but he advised us to leave him to his own devises and see how he was in the morning, 'He is, after all' he said 'a very unusual little dog'.
He didn't come to until this morning, after a night of shivering and unhappiness.
I sat and stroked him and suddenly he looked at me and it was like the mist was gone from his mind and he suddenly wagged his tail and grumbled at me then went to lick Faggot on the head.
A bit of a lesson never to take anything for granted I think.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Quiet night out
As you are aware we live on a very noisy estate full of unexpected and unusual sounds, if it isn't the pets singing carols, or Andre making his penthouse kennel for Hercules, Uncle Ernie on his motorized wheelchair or Varne and I coming home drunk, then it's something else.
Sometimes, in fact a lot of the times, the noise can stem from youths who tend to loiter indiscriminately and clutter up our street corners. Having no set bed time, curfew, or a desire to wake up the next morning, they can be outside well past half past 9 most evenings.
Until recently the estate has put up with the rapping, shrieking and general noisiness of the youths, but not any longer.
Oh no, Mrs Warboise has snapped!
She has taken to leaving the house in her long white nightie and dressing gown and floating towards the indiscriminate youths with menaces in her eyes.
The indiscriminate youths, who may be young but are not foolish, have taken to scarpering with apologies tumbling from their mouths.
Rock on Mrs Warboise!
Sometimes, in fact a lot of the times, the noise can stem from youths who tend to loiter indiscriminately and clutter up our street corners. Having no set bed time, curfew, or a desire to wake up the next morning, they can be outside well past half past 9 most evenings.
Until recently the estate has put up with the rapping, shrieking and general noisiness of the youths, but not any longer.
Oh no, Mrs Warboise has snapped!
She has taken to leaving the house in her long white nightie and dressing gown and floating towards the indiscriminate youths with menaces in her eyes.
The indiscriminate youths, who may be young but are not foolish, have taken to scarpering with apologies tumbling from their mouths.
Rock on Mrs Warboise!
Quiet night in
'Silent Night Holy Night
All is Calm All is Bright,
Round yon virgin Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly Peace'
Sings Trotter, practising his solo piece for the Carol Concert from the top of the stairs.
'Silent Night Holy Night
Son of God Oh loves pure light
Radiant beams from thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace
Jesus Lord at Thy birth...Oh Jesus Lord at Thy birth'
He can hear a muted noise in the background which he takes to be applause so increases his volume for the final verse!
'Sleep
Sleep
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace'
Tragically it is not applause but an angry mob outside with pitchforks and burning effigy's who are shouting, 'HOW THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO SLEEP WITH THAT RACKET GOING ON?'
'Heathen's' sniffs Fing in disdain, peering out of the bathroom window.
All is Calm All is Bright,
Round yon virgin Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly Peace'
Sings Trotter, practising his solo piece for the Carol Concert from the top of the stairs.
'Silent Night Holy Night
Son of God Oh loves pure light
Radiant beams from thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace
Jesus Lord at Thy birth...Oh Jesus Lord at Thy birth'
He can hear a muted noise in the background which he takes to be applause so increases his volume for the final verse!
'Sleep
Sleep
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace'
Tragically it is not applause but an angry mob outside with pitchforks and burning effigy's who are shouting, 'HOW THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO SLEEP WITH THAT RACKET GOING ON?'
'Heathen's' sniffs Fing in disdain, peering out of the bathroom window.
Formal Apology
We at Trotter and Fing would like to make a formal apology to Rez, from Cuddesdon, who we have formally referred to as Res.
We did not intend to cause insult or injury by the misspelling and hope your viewing pleasure hasn't been impaired.
We did not intend to cause insult or injury by the misspelling and hope your viewing pleasure hasn't been impaired.
Friday, November 24, 2006
The Oracle at Delphi
Fing knows the meaning of everything, life, the universe, pork scratchings, everything.
If you look deep into his beautiful eyes you will find the answer. That or feel compelled to feed him.
It can work either way for me.
Today is the day that is
Lulu is guarding something in the bedroom. We don't know what and with every probability, she probably doesn't know either.
Faggot is laying in the bath on a towel that Marth puts there for him every morning.
Tutz is playing boules underneath the bed.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face is doing jury service in the crown court and is currently listening in on a very interesting fraud case. She has decided to find the man guilty as she finds his appearance very distasteful and is irritated by his ingratiating subservient manner.
Hercules is looking at his unfinished kennel with longing through the back door, it would be finished apart from the fact that some arsehole complained about the banging and a drilling in the dark and Andre has been forced to down tools.
At the pub Captain Jack and Lucas by Day (Duncan by Night) have a new exercise routine. They have a new treadmill and are taking it in turns to run whilst watching old Catherine Tate DVD's.
Tiny Margo has driven her Lamborghini to Biscester Village and is shopping for a new beaded collar and a satin jacket to keep out the cold.
Lou and Res are at Whittenham Clumps, just for a change, and are admiring the view of the Oxfordshire country side.
Ginge is asleep on his favourite blanket next to the attractive singing lobster that Uncle Ernie purchased for Varne from the Antique Market.
Trotter has made a comfy place for himself on the landing by dragging my dressing gown out of my bedroom and rouching it into an attractive heap by the bathroom door.
Fing, having no respect or care for the feeling of others, has pissed in it, and left it there to upset Trotter later.
Little bastard.
Faggot is laying in the bath on a towel that Marth puts there for him every morning.
Tutz is playing boules underneath the bed.
Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face is doing jury service in the crown court and is currently listening in on a very interesting fraud case. She has decided to find the man guilty as she finds his appearance very distasteful and is irritated by his ingratiating subservient manner.
Hercules is looking at his unfinished kennel with longing through the back door, it would be finished apart from the fact that some arsehole complained about the banging and a drilling in the dark and Andre has been forced to down tools.
At the pub Captain Jack and Lucas by Day (Duncan by Night) have a new exercise routine. They have a new treadmill and are taking it in turns to run whilst watching old Catherine Tate DVD's.
Tiny Margo has driven her Lamborghini to Biscester Village and is shopping for a new beaded collar and a satin jacket to keep out the cold.
Lou and Res are at Whittenham Clumps, just for a change, and are admiring the view of the Oxfordshire country side.
Ginge is asleep on his favourite blanket next to the attractive singing lobster that Uncle Ernie purchased for Varne from the Antique Market.
Trotter has made a comfy place for himself on the landing by dragging my dressing gown out of my bedroom and rouching it into an attractive heap by the bathroom door.
Fing, having no respect or care for the feeling of others, has pissed in it, and left it there to upset Trotter later.
Little bastard.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Together
We go together like
rama lama lama
ke ding a de dinga a dong
remembered for ever like
shoo bop shoo wadda wadda yipitty boom de boom
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang
shoo-bop
That's the way it should be
Wha oooh yeah!
We're one of a kind
Like dip di-dip di-dip
Doo-bop a doo-bee doo
Our names are signed
Boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy
boog-e-dy
Shoo-by doo-wop she-bop
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang
shoo-bop
We'll always be like one
Wa-wa-wa-waaa!
Ra-ma la-ma la-ma ka ding a da ding de dong
Shoo-bop sha wad-da wad-da yipp-it-y boom de boom
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang shoo-bop
Dip da-dip da-dip doo-wop da doo-bee doo
Boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-ed-y
Shoo-by doo-wop she-bop
Sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na yip-pit-y boom de boom
Ra-ma la-ma la-ma ka ding-a de ding de dong
Shoo-bop sha wad-da wad-da yipp-it-y boom de boom
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang shoo-bop
Dip da-dip da-dip doo-wop da doo-bee doo
Boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy
shoo-by doo-wop she-bop
Sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na yip-pit-ty boom de boom
A wop ba-ba lu-mop
A wop bam boom
rama lama lama
ke ding a de dinga a dong
remembered for ever like
shoo bop shoo wadda wadda yipitty boom de boom
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang
shoo-bop
That's the way it should be
Wha oooh yeah!
We're one of a kind
Like dip di-dip di-dip
Doo-bop a doo-bee doo
Our names are signed
Boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy
boog-e-dy
Shoo-by doo-wop she-bop
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang
shoo-bop
We'll always be like one
Wa-wa-wa-waaa!
Ra-ma la-ma la-ma ka ding a da ding de dong
Shoo-bop sha wad-da wad-da yipp-it-y boom de boom
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang shoo-bop
Dip da-dip da-dip doo-wop da doo-bee doo
Boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-ed-y
Shoo-by doo-wop she-bop
Sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na yip-pit-y boom de boom
Ra-ma la-ma la-ma ka ding-a de ding de dong
Shoo-bop sha wad-da wad-da yipp-it-y boom de boom
Chang chang chang-it-ty chang shoo-bop
Dip da-dip da-dip doo-wop da doo-bee doo
Boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy boog-e-dy
shoo-by doo-wop she-bop
Sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na yip-pit-ty boom de boom
A wop ba-ba lu-mop
A wop bam boom
28 days, later
The pets had an enormously exciting shopping spree and loaded up the trolley with boxes of Turkish delight, sets of smellies from Boots, slipper socks and all the other weird shit that you can only find at Christmas and no one really needs.
They decided that a little pat on the back was the order of the day so popped into HaHa and accidentally discovered that all bottles of wine and most cocktails were a 3rd off which was a recipe for disaster to be fair.
They staggered home, 2 hours later, having completely forgotten they were supposed to be buying a Chinese for everyone. When they did, eventually get home and looked at all they had bought, they realised it really wasn't all that much after all and were left feeling slightly tarnished by the whole affair.
They decided that a little pat on the back was the order of the day so popped into HaHa and accidentally discovered that all bottles of wine and most cocktails were a 3rd off which was a recipe for disaster to be fair.
They staggered home, 2 hours later, having completely forgotten they were supposed to be buying a Chinese for everyone. When they did, eventually get home and looked at all they had bought, they realised it really wasn't all that much after all and were left feeling slightly tarnished by the whole affair.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
28 days before
Fing is taking the other pets Christmas Shopping today. The other pets are very very excited.
Trotter is stood expectantly by the front door in his favourite woolly scarf and hat, wagging his tail. Tutz and Giggsey are in the shopping trolley, Faggot has a cashmere scarf and a Prada bag over one shoulder and Lulu is bringing up the rear in a lovely tartan jacket.
Fing has everyone's pocket money firmly in his grasp and they set off towards Primark singing the Pogues 'Fairytale', can you hear them?
'You scumbag, you maggot, you cheap lousy faggot' sing the cats in purrrfect harmony
'Happy Christmas you arse, I pray god it's your last!!!!' sing the dogs.
Oh, how we love Christmas
Trotter is stood expectantly by the front door in his favourite woolly scarf and hat, wagging his tail. Tutz and Giggsey are in the shopping trolley, Faggot has a cashmere scarf and a Prada bag over one shoulder and Lulu is bringing up the rear in a lovely tartan jacket.
Fing has everyone's pocket money firmly in his grasp and they set off towards Primark singing the Pogues 'Fairytale', can you hear them?
'You scumbag, you maggot, you cheap lousy faggot' sing the cats in purrrfect harmony
'Happy Christmas you arse, I pray god it's your last!!!!' sing the dogs.
Oh, how we love Christmas
Monday, November 20, 2006
Sting!
Its awful having a great big itchy sneeze up your nose that just wont go away.
Unfortunately Captain Jack happened to mention this aloud while Lucas by day (Duncan by Night) was having a lucid moment.
'I have heard', say Lucas by day (Duncan by night) that if you have a nasty itchy sneeze up your nose, that sniffing black pepper will help it to come out', then became distracted by absolutelty nothing at all and went to wag his tail whilst standing with his head to one side, looking expectantly into the corner of the room.
Why Captain Jack decided to listen to the words of of a dog who spends the best part of his day chasing shadows and looking at walls we will never know.
Poor Captain Jack.
FISH
Did you know that every year in December European Ministers meet to try and decide who can fish what from where, they make these decisions despite warnings from the scientific community that fishing should be suspended for fish stocks to recover.
For the past five years the International Council for the Exploration of the Sea (ICES) have advised that no cod should be fished from UK waters, so that populations have a chance to recover.
But since this advice was first issued in 2001, 437,000 tonnes of cod have been taken from the North Sea alone, leaving the population at one third the minimum safe level.
Scandalously, every year tens of thousands of tonnes of fish are thrown back into the sea, dead or dying, by fisherman targeting other fish species.
Over half of North Sea cod are simply discarded overboard because they are too small.
And it's not just cod. Numbers of adult fish across many of Europe's fish stocks are just 10% of what they were 30 years ago.*
(of course in Iceland, the whales are to blame for the decrease in the fish stock, it has nothing what so ever to do with the idiot fishermen at all, but I digress)
So anyway - please can you log on to
http://wwf.org.uk/stopoverfishing
And take a couple of minutes to send an email to the secretary of state asking him, politely, to put his fucking foot down and do not give in the the whinging, whining fishermen and do something about this.
Before its too late.
*Info from the WWF website
For the past five years the International Council for the Exploration of the Sea (ICES) have advised that no cod should be fished from UK waters, so that populations have a chance to recover.
But since this advice was first issued in 2001, 437,000 tonnes of cod have been taken from the North Sea alone, leaving the population at one third the minimum safe level.
Scandalously, every year tens of thousands of tonnes of fish are thrown back into the sea, dead or dying, by fisherman targeting other fish species.
Over half of North Sea cod are simply discarded overboard because they are too small.
And it's not just cod. Numbers of adult fish across many of Europe's fish stocks are just 10% of what they were 30 years ago.*
(of course in Iceland, the whales are to blame for the decrease in the fish stock, it has nothing what so ever to do with the idiot fishermen at all, but I digress)
So anyway - please can you log on to
http://wwf.org.uk/stopoverfishing
And take a couple of minutes to send an email to the secretary of state asking him, politely, to put his fucking foot down and do not give in the the whinging, whining fishermen and do something about this.
Before its too late.
*Info from the WWF website
Friday, November 17, 2006
Beyond Measure
People ask me how much I love Fing,
'How much do you love Fing?', they say
I love Fing so much, I reply, that when he pisses into my beautiful, BEAUTIFUL, brand new red shoes that I laugh, wash them, then put them on the shelves like some random ornaments to dry, and when I still can't get the smell out I borrow Milan's cedar shoe tree's and force them into my ruby slippers to try to get the smell out and even though nothing has worked and the piss has taken some of the coulour out, becuase I love them so much, I keep them on top of my wardrobe with the shoe tree's in in the vain, stupid hope that one day, one day, I will be able to wear them again.
Thats one fuck of a lot of love my friends.
'How much do you love Fing?', they say
I love Fing so much, I reply, that when he pisses into my beautiful, BEAUTIFUL, brand new red shoes that I laugh, wash them, then put them on the shelves like some random ornaments to dry, and when I still can't get the smell out I borrow Milan's cedar shoe tree's and force them into my ruby slippers to try to get the smell out and even though nothing has worked and the piss has taken some of the coulour out, becuase I love them so much, I keep them on top of my wardrobe with the shoe tree's in in the vain, stupid hope that one day, one day, I will be able to wear them again.
Thats one fuck of a lot of love my friends.
Unmeasurable
Some people have asked me how much I love Trotter.
'How much do you love Trotter?' they say.
I love him so much, I reply, that I do not mind when he sits on my bare feet and his little hairy testicles nestle against my skin.
Thats a lot of love my friends.
'How much do you love Trotter?' they say.
I love him so much, I reply, that I do not mind when he sits on my bare feet and his little hairy testicles nestle against my skin.
Thats a lot of love my friends.
Social Housing
There have been bangings on the estate of late, in the darkness.
Bangings, and drillings and sawing, all under cover of the night.
We all wondered what it could be that was causing the bang and drill and complained about the noisiness of the entire affair, we stood in our windows with nosy neighbour syndrome and twitched our nets in a dissatisfied way.
But last night all was revealed as Andre finally proudly uncovered Hercules new delux hand built kennel to stunned estate.
The kennel is 6feet tall and then four by four.It has a raised floor with underfloor heating, it has satelite TV and a jacuzzi for Hercules bitches (when he gets older of course).
Martha was so impressed by the kennel she asked Andre if there was any possibility that she could use it as her retirement bungalow, but I don't think Hercules will want to share.
Bangings, and drillings and sawing, all under cover of the night.
We all wondered what it could be that was causing the bang and drill and complained about the noisiness of the entire affair, we stood in our windows with nosy neighbour syndrome and twitched our nets in a dissatisfied way.
But last night all was revealed as Andre finally proudly uncovered Hercules new delux hand built kennel to stunned estate.
The kennel is 6feet tall and then four by four.It has a raised floor with underfloor heating, it has satelite TV and a jacuzzi for Hercules bitches (when he gets older of course).
Martha was so impressed by the kennel she asked Andre if there was any possibility that she could use it as her retirement bungalow, but I don't think Hercules will want to share.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Still
Trotter had a break from the old routine and tried calmness last night.
He stood quietly and looked at us.
He sat with inner peace and meditated.
He listened to whale songs and considered the power of crystals.
At bedtime he was tranquil and didn't bark at the doors.
All in all it was rather unsettling and we kept on asking if he was ok, as it was decidedly peculiar, especially if you consider that he has been on his hot line to the devil for the last week.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Why?
Have I told you that Fing has taken to waking me up just before 6am every morning?
I can only wonder at his motives and reasons.
Then, If I knew the reasons and motives behind all his odd behavioural patterns I could probably become a famous cat psychologist and travel the world persuading illmanned and unrepentant cats to behave in a seemly and pleasant manner.
Of course, the other option is that he's an artifact of an alien intelligence sent here to test me.
If so the aliens must think the worlds a totally fucked up place.
I can only wonder at his motives and reasons.
Then, If I knew the reasons and motives behind all his odd behavioural patterns I could probably become a famous cat psychologist and travel the world persuading illmanned and unrepentant cats to behave in a seemly and pleasant manner.
Of course, the other option is that he's an artifact of an alien intelligence sent here to test me.
If so the aliens must think the worlds a totally fucked up place.
Time and a place
Dogs do to not like it when humans play ball games without them.
There are places in the world where Dogs have become quite militant about this and have taken to forcing their way into pool halls and clambering onto the pool table.
Once on the table they like to show their dissatisfaction by barking at would be competitors and by licking their testicles in an openly defiant manner.
Dark or Light?
There is a real Christmas Spirit in the house and it's not the ghost of Christmas Past, Oh No!
In the kitchen Martha is furiously chopping dried fruits and making chutney in a frenzy, a large pot of simmering slop oozes over the top and the whole house smells of cloves and cinnamon.
In the sitting room the pets are practising their carols, they will be performing at the Royal Albert Hall on the 14Th December. Tickets are already sold out as they are the 'World Famous Preachers Lane Pet Choir' after all. Today they are practising the Calypso Carol but unfortunately Trotter keeps on getting the lyrics wrong,
'Concentrate Trotter!' snaps an irritated Fing, 'Its 'See him a lying on a bed of straw, a drafty stable with an open door, Mary cradling the babe she bore, the prince of glory is his name'
'But the prince of darkness sounds much more fun', sulks Trotter.
In the kitchen Martha is furiously chopping dried fruits and making chutney in a frenzy, a large pot of simmering slop oozes over the top and the whole house smells of cloves and cinnamon.
In the sitting room the pets are practising their carols, they will be performing at the Royal Albert Hall on the 14Th December. Tickets are already sold out as they are the 'World Famous Preachers Lane Pet Choir' after all. Today they are practising the Calypso Carol but unfortunately Trotter keeps on getting the lyrics wrong,
'Concentrate Trotter!' snaps an irritated Fing, 'Its 'See him a lying on a bed of straw, a drafty stable with an open door, Mary cradling the babe she bore, the prince of glory is his name'
'But the prince of darkness sounds much more fun', sulks Trotter.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Do Androids dream of Electric Cats?
Tutz lies asleep on top of the NTL box, warm and cozy, dreaming psychedelic dreams of pandemonium and chaos.
Inside her tiny mind she floats in big multicoloured bubbles over unusual landscapes made of giant scratchy poles and lollipops.
She sees giant bumblebees and dragon flies, blamange in the shape of pink rabbits, she sees drums and briefly, Snoop Dog Dog floats by on a magic carpet.
Suddenly she is tap dancing in ruby slippers, then belly dancing next to a blue elephant wearing a sequined dress, then she is wind surfing in the lake district.
She wakes up slowly and stretches, opens her eyes and finds Trotter standing looking at her.
Some things are just as insane awake as when you are dreaming.
Inside her tiny mind she floats in big multicoloured bubbles over unusual landscapes made of giant scratchy poles and lollipops.
She sees giant bumblebees and dragon flies, blamange in the shape of pink rabbits, she sees drums and briefly, Snoop Dog Dog floats by on a magic carpet.
Suddenly she is tap dancing in ruby slippers, then belly dancing next to a blue elephant wearing a sequined dress, then she is wind surfing in the lake district.
She wakes up slowly and stretches, opens her eyes and finds Trotter standing looking at her.
Some things are just as insane awake as when you are dreaming.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
War
In the Second World War it is estimated that 60 million people died, or which 6 million were Jews.
The Allied forces fought for 6 years in order to stop fascism taking over the world, in order that we might have freedom of speech, freedom of expression, freedom of religion. Freedom to be the people that we want to be.
From the Allied forces the United kingdom lost 306213 servicemen, Australia 29395, Canada 39319, China 1324516, India 36092, New Zealand 12612, The United States 297723 and the former Soviet Union 13 million.
Today is the day that we remember the sacrifice of the men and women of the armed services, who have no say in which battles they will fight, in which one they will be wounded or in which they might die.
We at Trotter and Fing wear our poppies with pride.
The Allied forces fought for 6 years in order to stop fascism taking over the world, in order that we might have freedom of speech, freedom of expression, freedom of religion. Freedom to be the people that we want to be.
From the Allied forces the United kingdom lost 306213 servicemen, Australia 29395, Canada 39319, China 1324516, India 36092, New Zealand 12612, The United States 297723 and the former Soviet Union 13 million.
Today is the day that we remember the sacrifice of the men and women of the armed services, who have no say in which battles they will fight, in which one they will be wounded or in which they might die.
We at Trotter and Fing wear our poppies with pride.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Joy
'God rest ye Merry Gentleman' sings Trotter from the top of the stairs, 'May nothing you dismayyyyyyyyy',
'Remember Christ our saviour was born on Christmas day' Sings Giggsey Girl the stupid Slug face from on top of the TV,
'To save our souls from Satan's power' Sings Lulu from the kitchen doorway,
'When we were gone astray' sings Fat Boy Faggot from the bathroom,
'PPPRRROOOT' harmonises Tutz from the bedroom on her scratchy pole,
'OH TIDINGS OF COMFORT AND JOY', They all sing together as Fing conducts, waving a tiny baton in the hallway, 'Comfort and Joy, OHHH TIDINGS OF COMFORT AND JOYYYYYY!!!'
When you're part of the world famous Preachers Lane Pet Choir you've got to practise early!
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Industrious
Fing has has a very busy night.
Once again he got into the food cupboard and hooked out the dog Iams, leaving a cascade on the floor. This time we have an interesting twist as Trotter went downstairs to see what the noise was and bought the bag of Iams back to bed for a midnight feast.
The small grainy nuggets that he missed were to be found by Martha when she woke up, embedded in the backs of her legs and up her nose.
'FING!' she cried in despair.
But Fing had remained in the cupboard, where with sheer brute force and bloody ignorance, had forced the lid off the tupperwear container filled with cat biscuits and had gorged until he was almost as fat as a boa constrictor full of sheep.
So fat that he fell asleep and stayed in the cupboard where Martha found him by accident when she went in for a tea bag.
'FING!' she screamed.
Sometimes I wonder what we have done to deserve all of this naughtiness.
Hasn't that cat always had everything he always wanted?
Manicures and peticures, dancing lessons and trips to Vienna?
He did want a copy of the National Dictionary of the National Biography but we had to put our feet down somewhere.
Once again he got into the food cupboard and hooked out the dog Iams, leaving a cascade on the floor. This time we have an interesting twist as Trotter went downstairs to see what the noise was and bought the bag of Iams back to bed for a midnight feast.
The small grainy nuggets that he missed were to be found by Martha when she woke up, embedded in the backs of her legs and up her nose.
'FING!' she cried in despair.
But Fing had remained in the cupboard, where with sheer brute force and bloody ignorance, had forced the lid off the tupperwear container filled with cat biscuits and had gorged until he was almost as fat as a boa constrictor full of sheep.
So fat that he fell asleep and stayed in the cupboard where Martha found him by accident when she went in for a tea bag.
'FING!' she screamed.
Sometimes I wonder what we have done to deserve all of this naughtiness.
Hasn't that cat always had everything he always wanted?
Manicures and peticures, dancing lessons and trips to Vienna?
He did want a copy of the National Dictionary of the National Biography but we had to put our feet down somewhere.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Ok Corral
'Did you know' Said Trotter to Fing, ' That on this day in 1887, Doc Holliday died?'
'who was Doc Holliday?' asks Fing in surprise,
'Why, ' says Trotter, 'Doc Holliday was a gentleman sir'
'who was Doc Holliday?' asks Fing in surprise,
'Why, ' says Trotter, 'Doc Holliday was a gentleman sir'
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
3 days
Its been a few days of Uppers, Downers and all arounders to be honest.
Saturday dawned cold and bright and found Trotter and Fing visiting a poorly Shane in Hospital. They sat on his bed and made him laugh, they pushed him around in a wheelchair but were forced to stop for fear it might induce vomiting. They then sat and watched the South Park firework display and 'ooohhhhhh'd' and 'aaahhhhhh'd' in all the appropriate places. They popped into the pub on the way home and ended up going clubbing at Cloud 9 before returning home and collapsing exhausted.
On Sunday Martha noticed one of the goldfish swimming upside down in the pond and decided that he must immediately be removed and placed in a bright orange bucket on the draining board. With Stuarts help she dismantled a pump and placed it in the bucket, which kind of created a Jacuzzi effect and left the poor fish hurtling around the bucket like he was caught in some hideous 100 miles an hour whirlpool. I managed to persuade Martha that this may be a little strong, so she switched it off and went and got Asia. Asia, it transpires, is the local authority on goldfish and came bearing swim bladder medicine, a smaller pump, and portents of doom. We would, she advised, best not get our hopes up, dashed some medicine in the bucket and left us all feeling rather pessimistic as we stared at the goldfish, upside down and still revolving in his bucket.
Later that night an assortment of youths landed on the estate from an alternate, hoody, reality and let fireworks off just outside Varne's. Martha went out full of concern for Hercules, but the Youths told her to Fuck off, then lit some squibs in open defiance. The fireworks were not well received by Lulu or Tutz. Tutz spent the entire evening in the airing cupboard while Lulu tried to drown out the fireworks by barking as loudly as she could.
Monday found the goldfish the right way up but with nose pressed against the pump like an oxygen junkie. We borrowed a tank from Authority Asia, and popped him in there instead, where he took to sucking pebbles and sudden bursts of speed.
Much later Fing and I went to bed where we started to watch Braveheart. I had forgotten Fings aversion to the Scottish, and so was a little surprised when he got off his pillow and went for a sleep in the airing cupboard. Sometime later there was a rattling from downstairs. Fing, bored of the airing cupboard, had gone downstairs, opened the cupboard and deliberately tipped the dog Iams all over the floor. Not content with this he also opened all the other cupboard doors to see if there was any more mischief to be had, none found he came back upstairs and stared at me with a steely glare until I was forced to switch off Mel Gibheart and lay down and give him a cuddle.
Today it is Tuesday and I don't know what the pets are up too. I would imagine that most of the cats are asleep, Trotter will be sat at the bottom off the stairs waiting for Martha to come home and Lulu will be watching a crap film on channel 5, or looking for new cake recipe's or some such jazz.
Saturday dawned cold and bright and found Trotter and Fing visiting a poorly Shane in Hospital. They sat on his bed and made him laugh, they pushed him around in a wheelchair but were forced to stop for fear it might induce vomiting. They then sat and watched the South Park firework display and 'ooohhhhhh'd' and 'aaahhhhhh'd' in all the appropriate places. They popped into the pub on the way home and ended up going clubbing at Cloud 9 before returning home and collapsing exhausted.
On Sunday Martha noticed one of the goldfish swimming upside down in the pond and decided that he must immediately be removed and placed in a bright orange bucket on the draining board. With Stuarts help she dismantled a pump and placed it in the bucket, which kind of created a Jacuzzi effect and left the poor fish hurtling around the bucket like he was caught in some hideous 100 miles an hour whirlpool. I managed to persuade Martha that this may be a little strong, so she switched it off and went and got Asia. Asia, it transpires, is the local authority on goldfish and came bearing swim bladder medicine, a smaller pump, and portents of doom. We would, she advised, best not get our hopes up, dashed some medicine in the bucket and left us all feeling rather pessimistic as we stared at the goldfish, upside down and still revolving in his bucket.
Later that night an assortment of youths landed on the estate from an alternate, hoody, reality and let fireworks off just outside Varne's. Martha went out full of concern for Hercules, but the Youths told her to Fuck off, then lit some squibs in open defiance. The fireworks were not well received by Lulu or Tutz. Tutz spent the entire evening in the airing cupboard while Lulu tried to drown out the fireworks by barking as loudly as she could.
Monday found the goldfish the right way up but with nose pressed against the pump like an oxygen junkie. We borrowed a tank from Authority Asia, and popped him in there instead, where he took to sucking pebbles and sudden bursts of speed.
Much later Fing and I went to bed where we started to watch Braveheart. I had forgotten Fings aversion to the Scottish, and so was a little surprised when he got off his pillow and went for a sleep in the airing cupboard. Sometime later there was a rattling from downstairs. Fing, bored of the airing cupboard, had gone downstairs, opened the cupboard and deliberately tipped the dog Iams all over the floor. Not content with this he also opened all the other cupboard doors to see if there was any more mischief to be had, none found he came back upstairs and stared at me with a steely glare until I was forced to switch off Mel Gibheart and lay down and give him a cuddle.
Today it is Tuesday and I don't know what the pets are up too. I would imagine that most of the cats are asleep, Trotter will be sat at the bottom off the stairs waiting for Martha to come home and Lulu will be watching a crap film on channel 5, or looking for new cake recipe's or some such jazz.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Grim
The news this week has been grim indeed.
No fish in the worlds oceans within the next 40 years.
The worlds oceans to rise, displacing 40 million people.
No water to drink.
All the worlds animals will die.
Will it make a difference if you recycle? Will it matter if you remember to switch off all your electrical appliances when you are not using them?
It will, but probably not in your lifetime.
I don't have any children, but I have a niece and I would like her to grow up in a world where there are Polar Bears and Penguins, Gorillas and Chimpanzee's, Giraffes and Hyena's, Whales and Dolphins. In a World where people are not warring over water or where millions of people have no where to live.
So, if all of us just do one thing.
Switch off the plugs, recycle empty bottles, if all of us did one thing then maybe there will be a beautiful world left behind for our children, whether they be son's or daughter's, niece's or nephew's, God Children or the Children next door.
We at TrotterandFing are going to stop eating fish from non-sustainable sources.
Remember, Cod made us in his own image.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Percy Thrower
'PPRRROOOTTTT!!!' She says! 'PPRRROOOTTTTT'! Yes, I'm afraid that teeny, tiny, insane Tutz has escaped, unsupervised, into the garden.
She stands beside the metal cat and pretends to be unnoticed.
She watches Selby the squirrel hide some nuts in the rubbish heap from her watching place on top of the gazebo, then after he has gone, digs them up and hides them elsewhere.
She sits by the side of the pond and watches the fish with a professionally disinterested eye, then dips an idle paw into the water on the offchance that a fish will be stupid enough not to notice her enourmous orange eyes, millometres away from the water, peering in. Unfortunately for Tutz, all the fish are member's of Mensa, and are discussing philosophy with the fresh water mussels who live in the weed at the bottom of the pond.
No fun there she thinks and sits on top of the rubbish heap watching the world go by.
She practises some bunny hops, she persuades Selby to play hopscotch, she sleeps for a while in the sunny place underneath the bench by the window.
She 'ppprrroootttts' to herself softly as she potters around in the garden, and if she is feeling brave, the ground beneath Thelma's bush that lays just outside the fence. But she doesn't go too far in case the mean stripy cat that lives across the way spots her and steals her pocket money. She hates the stripy cat.
When she is exhausted of the day she sits on top of the trellis and waits for someone to come home so that she can play her favourite game of all, pretending that she wants to be let in. She sits and waits, as patient as the Sphinx.
She stands beside the metal cat and pretends to be unnoticed.
She watches Selby the squirrel hide some nuts in the rubbish heap from her watching place on top of the gazebo, then after he has gone, digs them up and hides them elsewhere.
She sits by the side of the pond and watches the fish with a professionally disinterested eye, then dips an idle paw into the water on the offchance that a fish will be stupid enough not to notice her enourmous orange eyes, millometres away from the water, peering in. Unfortunately for Tutz, all the fish are member's of Mensa, and are discussing philosophy with the fresh water mussels who live in the weed at the bottom of the pond.
No fun there she thinks and sits on top of the rubbish heap watching the world go by.
She practises some bunny hops, she persuades Selby to play hopscotch, she sleeps for a while in the sunny place underneath the bench by the window.
She 'ppprrroootttts' to herself softly as she potters around in the garden, and if she is feeling brave, the ground beneath Thelma's bush that lays just outside the fence. But she doesn't go too far in case the mean stripy cat that lives across the way spots her and steals her pocket money. She hates the stripy cat.
When she is exhausted of the day she sits on top of the trellis and waits for someone to come home so that she can play her favourite game of all, pretending that she wants to be let in. She sits and waits, as patient as the Sphinx.
Why?
I was lucky the other day, in so much that when I picked up my umbrella, which had been left open and upside down by the side of the mop bucket by Stuart the night before, that I happened to notice a small spillage of urine to the side.
Had I of just whisked it up over my head and opened it I would have been showered with Trotters urine, but as I say, I was lucky this time.
Unlike the time that Martha's waterproof jacket was lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs and I grabbed it intending to hang it up and got covered from head to toe by the pool of cats pee that had been nestleing unnoticed on top of it.
That time I stood there for a moment, as the pee dripped off the end of my nose and wondered what, exactly, i'd done to deserve this life.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Mines a chocolate eyeball
There was great excitement as the Pets prepared for Halloween, the biscuits were baked, the pumpkins carved and filled with candles and the Trick or Treat? sweets all ready in the bowl.
Fing had agreed that he would stay at home and dispense the sweets so that the others could go out in fancy dress.
Tutz was dressed as a tiny pumpkin, grey face and big yellow eyes staring out for underneath a little orange and green bonnet.
Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest Dog in the West, was dressed as a spider, with 4 extra legs poking out the side.
Trotter, of course, was DRACULE!!! and had his favourite cape and false vampire teeth in.
Fat Boy Faggot was dressed as a zombie and had covered himself in face paints and was a rather unattractive mottled green and grey.
Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug face has wrapped herself in lengths and lengths of bandages and was a Mummy.
And so they went out and knocked on doors and shouted 'TRICK OR TREAT' when people opened the doors, they said 'Thank you very much' when they were given sweets then raced on to the next house full of high spirits and happiness.
At home Fing endured the constant knocking and the shouts of 'TRICK OR TREAT!' secure in the knowledge that every treat was in fact a trick, as he had pissed in the biscuit mixture when Lulu wasn't watching, because, after all, that's just the sort of bastard that he is.
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