What the pets are doing, right now...

In the sitting room Fing is dusting listening to Martha's Dr Hook CD.

In the bedroom Tutz is watching a documentary on the indigenous peoples of the South American Rainforest.

In Martha's room Giggsey Girl the Stupid Slug Face is putting up some new curtains and changing the bed clothes.

In the bathroom Fat Boy Faggot is plucking his eyebrows before washing the immac of his back, sack and crack.

In the kitchen Truly Scrumptious Lulu is making pancakes and drinking Jack Daniels with orange.

And in the hallway Trotter is waiting for Martha to get home.

Street Ducks

As you are aware, homeless ducks have become a major problem in Oxford, unfortunately, the rivers are so full of pleasure cruisers and punters, swans, coots, old cars and shopping trollies that the ducks have been forced to live on the harsh concrete streets.

In some area's of Oxford the ducks have taken to squatting in University Buildings and peck in an embittered fashion at the feet of passing office workers.

So next time you think about going on a boat trip or laugh causually as you push an old car down the river bank, think.

Think about street ducks and the rising level of drug abuse and alcoholism in ducklings. Think of their tiny webbed feet all meant for water going crispy on the concrete.

Just Think!

Together we can work it out.

Trotwear

For Standard Lamps Savaged with Love.

Trotwear can be found in a Pound Paradise near you!

In a seperate time zone.......

Meanwhile, an overly excited Fat Boy Faggot, Tutz, Truly Scrumptious Lulu and Giggsey Girl the Stupid slug face are driving to London in Lulu's mini minor, on route to a Madonna concert.

What can I say?

Fat Boy Faggot screamed himself hoarse with adoration as his idol strutted her stuff up and down the stage.

Truly Lu spent most of the concert bouncing up and down trying to see the stage.

But Tutz and Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face found the entire concert overly contrived and were irritated by Madonna's buttocks.

The Northern Lights

Trotter and Fing drove to Blackpool in Fing's ferrari on Saturday morning. On Fat Boy Faggots suggestion they booked into a delightful camp hotel opposite the Flying handbag, they polled up, booked in, unpacked and went down and had a glass of wine.

The boys had never been to Blackpool and set off to the front to look for donkeys and were sorely disappointed when all they could find were obese people in motorized wheelchair's.

They went to the pleasure beach and purchased buckets and spades and were very disappointed when they were made to leave the beach due to the 'No Dogs April - September' policy. There was a little consternation as the sign did not say 'no cats' so Fing stayed on the beach and pissed on everyone's parade before he was chased off by an irate holiday maker with a wet towel in his hand.

Laughing to themselves about their naughtiness they went back to the hotel and ordered more wine.

After a small snack the boys set off to Funny Girls, where they had previously booked a table. They found themselves sitting next to an ex miner from Cardiff who's wife had run off with his brother, they told him that they really weren't interested thank you very much, and would he mind shutting the fuck up so they could watch the show?

After the show they went to Flamingoes and danced like spastics on acid before returning to the hotel to collapse in bed.

Fing awoke with the most terrible blisters from his new white brogues and found it so difficult to walk that the hotel's proprietor asked if he'd been gang raped in the night.

Sunday was another day of heavy drinking interspersed with a show by Fings favorite drag act - Kitty Litter. Trotter can't remember very much of this evening as he went back to the hotel for some pro plus and woke up the next morning on top of the bed, still fully dressed.

The next day Fing's ankles had still not calmed down so the boys got back in the ferrari and wove their weary way home.

Fangs for the Memory

Fing reads to Trotter from the Guardian,

"Guard dog mauls Elvis's teddy in rampage -

When Barney met Mabel, there was an instant - and fatal - chemical reaction.
On Tuesday night the doberman pinscher guard dog, after six years' blameless service, went berserk: within minutes Mabel, a 1909 German-made Steiff teddy bear once owned by Elvis Presley, more recently the pride and joy of an English aristocrat, lay mortally wounded.

Barney went on to rampage through hundreds of rare teddies, all on loan to Wookey Hole Caves in Somerset, and so valuable that the insurers had insisted on a guard dog to protect the premises at night. The aftermath, according to shocked staff, was appalling: shattered limbs, gouged eyes, ears torn off, and pools of sawdust everywhere."

Fing looks at Trotter over the top of his bi-focals and asks,

"Is he a relative?"

http://www.guardian.co.uk

Tiny One

Tutz bounces around the bedroom like bambi.

She thunders around like a herd of enraged baby elephants.

Occaisionally she will stop - dead in her tracks - with a look of complete amazement on her face. Where is she? Who are these other cats? Why is SHE a cat? She will stand in the silence and PRROOOTTT to herself before racing out of the door at a hundred miles an hour to tackle the rest of the upstairs.

She hides in the airing cupboard until Trotter has walked past.

She leaps like a flying bat from the top layer of her scratchy pole. She knocks over pictures in frames and knocks hats from on top of the shelves.

She puts on 50 Cent and then some G Unit and chants some offensive rap at Fat Boy Faggot who is lying in the bath with a face pack on.

She trys on shoes and chases flies, she slithers from layer to layer of her pole.

Then she curls up into a tiny ball and sleeps the sleep of the dead, conserving her energy for the next assault on the house.

Strike him off

My boy Fing, as you aware, has recently returned from a trip to the vets.

The Scottish vet, questioning my sanity, said he had 'probably hit himself in the eye with a stick or some such stuff'.

Question my sanity?

So how come the fucker missed the massive great big bite mark under Fings eye that has now become apparent now the eye is no longer swollen?

I'd call up and give them a piece of my mind, but there isn't much left that isn't addled with drink and drugs.

much ado about nothing.

Trotter is bored.

He is bored of chewing up the furniture, bored of pooing upstairs.

Bored of chasing Fat Boy Faggot and bored of harrassing Tutz.

He is bored of barking at Thelma and bored of party manifesto's.

He is bored of being locked in the kitchen when people leave the house and bored of being kept on a lead when he has been too naughty.

(It is not his fault, he beleives, that he has just too much naughtiness inside him all waiting to burst out)

He is bored of Karen Carpenter and bored of chedder cheese.

He is bored of Ice Hockey and bored of Bumble Bees.

Bored.

He lies on the sofa in a dejected heap and sighs.

Rose Garden

In some places Cowboys like to aggravate their herds by line dancing in an mad and frenetic fashion.

Unfortunately this can be fatal as horses detest line dancing and will trample you to death without so much as a by your leave or a beg your pardon.

Death by trampling is more likely to happen if you aggravate your herd in the open, as Horses do not frequent bars, night clubs or village halls.

Machine.

Fing was very interested to read that the largest object to be found in the universe resembles nothing so much more than a swarm of giant green jellyfish.

Not only this, but as the object is 200 million light years away, astronomers are actually looking back in time, at something 12 billion years ago.

He is amazed.

Who ever would have imagined that Jellyfish could time travel?

Sunshine

Trotter was very confused about the article he read about the Python who ate an electric blanket in America.

He thought it was hot in America.

Ouchy

...needlepoint?' I asked, 'he does enjoy a spot of embroidery and I wondered, in your opinion, if he may have slipped and caught himself in the eye with his needle?'

The Scottish vet looked at me for a moment, and said

'In my professional opinion Ms Hartley, I think it likely that he has perhaps caught his eye on a twig, or some such stuff, while in the garden. Also, that you might consider professional help yourself'

Fing

I don't know what Boy has done, but he has the gammiest eye in creation. I think he may of been fighting, been jabbed by a sharp stick as he came over the garden fence, or has inadvertently poked himself in the retina with a sewing needle, in a horrific needlepoint accident.

Vets at 7.20.

Maelstrom

Trotter did not like the thunder last night. Originally the roiling noise in the background had left him undisturbed until a massive crack awoke him and the chubbiest dog, who started to bark in distress.

Trotter, convinced we were perhaps being burgled, ran downstairs to run around aimlessly barking at the darkness.

In the end I had to have him in bed with me where he grumbled unhappily for quite some time.

Poor Trotter.

A Descent of Woodpeckers.

'Fing', asks Trotter,' what would you call it if it was a group of sharks, is it a shaol?'

'No', says Fing, 'That would be a Shiver of sharks'

'It is?' says Trotter, then thinks for a while. 'And hippo's, what is a group of Hippo's called'

'A Bloat', says Fing, casting a sideways glance at Truly Scrumptious Lulu, the chubbiest Dog in the West.

'Bears?'

'a Sloth

'Giraffes?'

'a Tower

'Ravens?'

'an Unkindness

'And Me, Fing, what would a group of me be?'

'Well now Trotter, I think you'll find that would be a Chaos', says Fing, before swanning out of the door in his new leather swimming trunks and black afro wig.

Dead Men Tell No Tails

Captain Skipjack is patrolling the beer garden, he is trying to walk with a rolling gait to feel like he is at sea. Unfortunately the hard concrete does not feel like wood. Tragically there are no sails flapping overhead, no sea air in his whiskery face. He sighs and sticks his head through the gate for an experimental sniff, no. No tuna.

But wait! What was that?

Shiver me timbers! There's only a scurvy riddled rat edging its way incautiously down the side of the fence by the beer barrels!

Captain Jack calls fall his trusty, if distracted, bosun Lucas by day, Duncan by Night!

Lucas by day, Duncan by night had been standing and wagging his tail at the corner of the sitting room since breakfast so was more than prepared for the challenge. He raced down the stairs and harried the scurvy riddled rat! He chased him round the barrels, he caught him by the tail and killed him all of a sudden with not even so much as an apology!

'WOOF' barks the Captain! 'WOOF' and him and the Bosun run like maniacs round and round the garden to celebrate.

Crazy like a FOX!

Fing practises his crazy Samba rythms to Shakira's 'Whenever Wherever'

As he weaves across the floor he sings at the top of his voice,

'Lucky that my lips not only mumble
They spill kisses like a fountain
Lucky that my breasts are small and humble
So you don't confuse them with mountains
Lucky i have strong legs like my mother
To run for cover when i need it
And these two eyes are for no other
The day you leave will cry a river'

And can't help but wonder if the poor woman has a drug problem.

They couldn't touch us even if they tried

The pets are laying in the garden in small, hot, furry heaps, Fing has purchased a paddling pool for everyone and they are taking it in turns to dangle their paws in the water.

They are listening to Stevie Wonder's 'Hotter than July' and wondering how it could possibly be hotter without the world bursting into flame.

'I wish I was a Fish'. says Trotter and, for once, everyone agree's with him.

A Tall Tale

'Racoons are the most dangerous animals in the world. They are more dangerous than a charging bull elephant, more lethal than a hippo playing water polo.

They are more menacing than a pride of lions, tackling with them is more perilous than poking a cobra with a stick.

They will break into your house and raid the fridge, they will turn on your telly and watch the superbowl, then they will crap in your cupboard, trash the bin, rip up your clothes and then get trapped somewhere by accident.

It is at this point that they are most dangerous because when you find them in their trapped place they will probably be wearing your underwear and they are so embarrassed at being caught that they react with extreme violence - leaping from the trapped place and attacking your ankles'.

Fing looks at Trotter with a sceptical eye and asks, 'Are you sure you're not making this up as you go along?'

'No,' says Trotter. 'I know this for a fact as I am distantly related to them'

'Saints preserve us' mutters Fing and gets back to his broidery anglaise.