Daisy's revenge!

The Zombie cat awoke from the anaesthetic after having his severed head sewn back on. Daisy was very proud of her surgery. She always knew tha Haynes manual for her Honda ss50 would come in handy.

Zombie cat seemed to be feeling the after-effects of the 5 minute operation and was stumbling around, crashing into things and eventually falling down the stairs. Daisy put him in the garden while she made lunch. After a few minutes Daisy noticed a lot of birds dancing in front of Zombie cat, chirping wildly, pecking at him. This was unusual, as Zombie cat was normally a nasty bastard to the birds (as all cats are) and they never used to get so close to him...............but when your head's been sewn on backwards!...

Rise of the Zombie Cat

"Ohmygod, I thought you were dead!" exclaimed Daisy, "I've been so worried about you. Where have you been? Here, let me brush your fur."

Zombie Cat curled up in Daisy's lap as she started to brush him, then as her hand came close, he sank his teeth into her arm.

"Ow! That's not a very nice way to say hello. I think you've drawn blood. Hey, stop chewing me you naughty kitty! I mean it. Ow! Get off me!"

But Zombie Cat kept gnawing at her, struggling against her as she fought him off with her brush while still trying to smooth his fur.

"Mraow, braaaains!"

"No brains for you, bad kitty! You'll have tuna and like it. Have you been fighting? Your fur's coming out in lumps. And you seem to be missing a leg. Where's my first aid kit? And my samurai sword?"

Zombie Cat was still gnawing at her as she lopped off his head, but after that he relaxed enough for her to pick him up, wash the blood off and start brushing his fur again.

"There, that's better. Now just wait here while I find my sewing kit and some air freshener and I'll soon have you looking - and smelling - as good as new."

A wee bit o' Seuss, for the end of 2010

Oh, up on high
on the top of Mount Mousie,
our Cat Hero now lives
wearing waistcoat and trousies.

His computer woes
were all finally sorted
CTRL-ALT-DELETE
and the processes were aborted.

With suitcase of beer
and curry take-away,
he hiked up yon mountain
he did it today.

And now he's well hidden
on top of Mount Mousie.
The view is astounding
when the weather's not lousy.

He's abandoned the missus
the wretched old sod
he lives now on liver
and salted dried cod.

Why did he do this?
You ask, so I'll tell ya:
Our Cat Hero boy
Is in love with a fella.

The realization quite boggled him,
He's quite puzzled, true.
And so he's retreated,
to think these things through.

What will Jimmy Cat do?
How will his life play out?
I don't know for sure,
That cantankerous old trout.

In the meantime he's stationed
on Mount Mousie's top,
doing his best Grinch impersonation
(I wish he would stop).

And that is the latest,
of Jimmy Cat and his beer.
If you know any more,
Please write it down here.

Alas

There are no more. They have gone.

We must carry on.
With suitcases.
And a beer.

O,h my ears and whiskers...

The time. It gets away from me. It's been almost a week since the last post, I am shocked to realize.

So. Wrestling the new computer into submission has been time-consuming. 2003 versions of software aren't so compatible with Windows 7. Who knew?

Yeah. Me, too. But I had to give it a shot.

And that's all I've got to say about that. Chocolate, anyone?

Auld Lang's Whine

"It's been a feckin' year since anyone's paid us any mind," said Jimmy.

And the Mrs. had to admit, it was the feckin' truth.

"Shite, then. Sure an' how about a bit o' Fellatio to stave off the boredom," said Jimmy.

"What? At this time o' the night?" howled the Mrs..

"I'm not singin' feckin' opera at this hour, ya feckless twat!"

Roddy Doyle

- Eejit.

Jimmy Cat was enjoying breakfast. The sardines were a taste, though the juice had made a bit of a dribble on the floor. No matter, he'd lick it up when Mrs. Cat wasn't looking.

Jimmy was giving out about the other cat in the house, a patchy porker who was visiting Mr. and Mrs. Upstairs. Something about Mrs. Upstairs' sister's piles being worked on in a hospital in Sligo. Any rate, old baldy was in the house to stay, and he was, as Jimmy said, an eejit.

- Now, then, he's not so bad.

Mrs. Cat, taking the side of the guest.

- He's taken a dump in the pantry.
- Not his fault he ate all that leftover curry.
- Eejit.
- Now, now.

Jimmy didn't care. He didn't care if baldy heard him. He was in a foul mood, what with this and the sardine juice down his chin and Jimmy Junior getting his ear ripped the other night by some tough from Dunblane. Barrytown wasn't fit to live in with all this going on, foreign cats and all.

- I'm going out.
- Don't go looking for that Dunblane cat.

Fuck. How did she know?

- I know what you're thinking of. Leave it be. Wee Jimmy'll have to fight his own fights.

What the bloody hell was the world coming to? Now the woman was telling him not to meddle, to let the kid fight it out. That was completely backwards. It was supposed to be the ma giving out to the kiddies about not messing, staying out of fights, not encouraging them. It was getting so that Jimmy had no clue what a da was supposed to do any more.

- Alright, I'm going to Bertie's. He's some fish bones need seeing to.

Jimmy left, scanning the road for that Eejit dog Rover and making sure there was no dog poo in his path. Barrytown. What a dump. And now he was sharing it with a balding mog from Kinsale, who gobbled leftover curry and deposited the remains inside the house.

Jimmy hoped Bertie had something better than fish bones to take his mind off it all.