tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787410086592515592024-03-19T02:53:24.463+00:00All-New 21st-Century Online Collaborative NovelWe all have a great novel inside us, but if you're anything like me, you can't be arsed to write more than a chapter or so before giving up and pissing off down the pub.
Fear not, for the solution is now at hand!
In the All-New Twenty-First Century Online Collaborative Novel(tm), anyone can write one chapter of any length, then bugger off and forget all about it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-52589840343313134322012-05-04T20:13:00.002+01:002012-05-17T15:40:20.834+01:00<p>Zombie cat has been mulling things over ever since Daisy sewed his head on backwards and the birds kept teasing and pecking at him. Eventually he came up with a cunning, Baldrick style plan! He bent over and stuck his head between his legs so he could see the birds taking the piss.</p><p>However, he didn't count on the next door neighbours queer Rottweiler being loose. The scream could be heard from miles around!!</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11346682505354790114noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-64362065594966533052011-06-09T20:39:00.003+01:002011-06-09T21:01:19.381+01:00Daisy's revenge!<p>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.</p><p>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!...</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11346682505354790114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-59972732923201216002011-05-19T23:01:00.003+01:002011-05-19T23:22:13.895+01:00Rise 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."<br /><br />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.<br /><br />"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!"<br /><br />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. <br /><br />"Mraow, braaaains!"<br /><br />"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?"<br /><br />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.<br /><br />"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."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-57866954876381559952010-12-18T22:43:00.004+00:002010-12-18T22:53:57.540+00:00A wee bit o' Seuss, for the end of 2010Oh, up on high<br />on the top of Mount Mousie,<br />our Cat Hero now lives<br />wearing waistcoat and trousies.<br /><br />His computer woes<br />were all finally sorted<br />CTRL-ALT-DELETE<br />and the processes were aborted.<br /><br />With suitcase of beer<br />and curry take-away,<br />he hiked up yon mountain<br />he did it today.<br /><br />And now he's well hidden<br />on top of Mount Mousie.<br />The view is astounding<br />when the weather's not lousy.<br /><br />He's abandoned the missus<br />the wretched old sod<br />he lives now on liver<br />and salted dried cod.<br /><br />Why did he do this?<br />You ask, so I'll tell ya:<br />Our Cat Hero boy<br />Is in love with a fella.<br /><br />The realization quite boggled him,<br />He's quite puzzled, true.<br />And so he's retreated,<br />to think these things through.<br /><br />What will Jimmy Cat do?<br />How will his life play out?<br />I don't know for sure,<br />That cantankerous old trout.<br /><br />In the meantime he's stationed<br />on Mount Mousie's top,<br />doing his best Grinch impersonation<br />(I wish he would stop).<br /><br />And that is the latest,<br />of Jimmy Cat and his beer.<br />If you know any more,<br />Please write it down here.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-59456934218424575702010-11-02T11:12:00.002+00:002010-11-02T11:14:37.836+00:00AlasThere are no more. They have gone.<br /><br />We must carry on.<br />With suitcases.<br />And a beer.Sewmousehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01698392521648800227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-9428633757403282792010-10-26T02:55:00.006+01:002010-10-26T03:24:02.299+01:00O,h my ears and whiskers...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkqqmTWWQR1fWQ36qRscJKjEFVlMaFh8ySuOHxULhNupU-kJuVFKSa2es_AqY3bXGx0xP30cMakX85RjQPJB2PuI9Picy2ZjqjH9dcW_QQsJv26OxJM1kgJfxGBE3vERD5wJsSH26e83qm/s1600/white_rabbit.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 209px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532174138217465666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkqqmTWWQR1fWQ36qRscJKjEFVlMaFh8ySuOHxULhNupU-kJuVFKSa2es_AqY3bXGx0xP30cMakX85RjQPJB2PuI9Picy2ZjqjH9dcW_QQsJv26OxJM1kgJfxGBE3vERD5wJsSH26e83qm/s320/white_rabbit.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><div>The time. It gets away from me. It's been almost a week since the last post, I am shocked to realize. </div><br /><div></div><div>So. Wrestling the new computer into submission has been time-consuming. 2003 versions of software aren't so compatible with Windows 7. Who knew? </div><br /><div></div><div>Yeah. Me, too. But I had to give it a shot.</div><div> </div><div>And that's all I've got to say about that. Chocolate, anyone?</div><div> </div><div> </div></div></div>WrathofDawnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16321334611073822953noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-17010995132799302212010-01-02T04:59:00.003+00:002010-01-02T05:07:08.307+00:00Auld Lang's Whine"It's been a feckin' year since anyone's paid us any mind," said Jimmy.<br /><br />And the Mrs. had to admit, it was the feckin' truth.<br /><br />"Shite, then. Sure an' how about a bit o' Fellatio to stave off the boredom," said Jimmy.<br /><br />"What? At this time o' the night?" howled the Mrs..<br /><br />"I'm not singin' feckin' opera at this hour, ya feckless twat!"WrathofDawnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16321334611073822953noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-81430839375701291842009-01-01T15:06:00.003+00:002009-01-23T19:40:53.680+00:00Roddy Doyle- Eejit.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />- Now, then, he's not so bad.<br /><br />Mrs. Cat, taking the side of the guest.<br /><br />- He's taken a dump in the pantry.<br />- Not his fault he ate all that leftover curry.<br />- Eejit.<br />- Now, now.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />- I'm going out.<br />- Don't go looking for that Dunblane cat.<br /><br />Fuck. How did she know?<br /><br />- I know what you're thinking of. Leave it be. Wee Jimmy'll have to fight his own fights.<br /><br />What the bloody hell was the world coming to? Now the woman was telling <em>him</em> 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.<br /><br />- Alright, I'm going to Bertie's. He's some fish bones need seeing to.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Jimmy hoped Bertie had something better than fish bones to take his mind off it all.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-11423505210890229872008-09-04T18:00:00.003+01:002008-09-04T18:04:55.689+01:00<a href="http://www.rusek.org/stefan/"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242212875529929010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="166" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIsttF56LdK-Z8gmuYRnoIV23Iz42ma7jM-PqEyeJvvcTncmLP0birPlOUveZDYItBCBafVHyifHJX0ryNIKPkKNg-767Pgnr70DbRZ-TvPa9yEWy4OH5TsYAXEjbkDrPdgxaoRPRXn_a/s320/cat+burgers.jpg" width="247" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://www.rusek.org/stefan/"></a><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">With apologies to Joyce Kilmer.<br /></span></strong><br /><br /><strong>Kittees<br /></strong>I think that I shall never see<br />A human clever as a cat.<br />A cat whose hungry eyes will stare<br />At that sweet cheezburger sitting there.<br />A cat that watches for his chance<br />To steal that burger while you glance<br />At other kitteh over there<br />Who's hacking up a ball of hair.<br />Upon your carpet he has lain,<br />A knarly icky glob to stain. <br />Humans are just fools you see,<br />Can be distracted, meanwhile we...<br />Can haz cheezburger.<br /><br />Om nom nom hey nonny nonny.</div>WrathofDawnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16321334611073822953noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-31456982576371266722008-08-31T04:01:00.007+01:002008-08-31T04:54:56.124+01:00Jenasis<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNpaIxkH-kjFEbiG4dv1vvTakuBvNql_yllOBuv18Ts2hON_TG3CLVUknoBBtMz8FrpURlVOu_n0uzz0XUKwjN2dejiRmXMYrhNqp9Sdl4lspa1qTSOxjsOm9FE3ECaUKR-An2ccfvctrG/s1600-h/ceiling+%26+basement+cat.JPG"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240514470025529842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 257px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px" height="210" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNpaIxkH-kjFEbiG4dv1vvTakuBvNql_yllOBuv18Ts2hON_TG3CLVUknoBBtMz8FrpURlVOu_n0uzz0XUKwjN2dejiRmXMYrhNqp9Sdl4lspa1qTSOxjsOm9FE3ECaUKR-An2ccfvctrG/s320/ceiling+%26+basement+cat.JPG" width="286" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#ffffff;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc66cc;"><strong><a href="http://www.lolcatbible.com/index.php?title=Main_Page">Jeniasus 1:1-3</a></strong></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;">Oh hai. In teh beginnin Ceiling Cat maded teh skiez An da Urfs, but he did not eated dem. Da Urfs no had shapez An haded dark face, An Ceiling Cat rode invisible bike over teh waterz. At start, no has lyte. An Ceiling Cat sayz, i can haz lite? An lite wuz.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">An Basement Cat LO</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Led.</span></span></div>WrathofDawnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16321334611073822953noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-76453779195964484822008-04-28T02:52:00.003+01:002008-04-28T03:10:11.939+01:00bill bissett[for reference, <a href="http://www.library.utoronto.ca/canpoetry/bissett/">bill bissett</a>]<br /><br /><br /><br />nd th cat's n my hed<br /><br />but that's alright, n evrythng<br /><br />cos maybe he's ded, n maybe he isnt<br />it's uncertn, see? with tht giger cntr n all<br /><br />friggin Heisnbrg. I lrnd it n school, but it<br />didnt do me no good now, did it?<br /><br />so, nyway, here's the cat deal.<br />He's lost, n the dark more or less,<br />lookin at th parchmnt<br />thinkn bout onions<br />n stuff<br />n then there's this big noise<br />sounds like Montreal on a Tuesday<br />after th Habs win<br />nd he scats<br />not scats like crap, but like outta here, man<br />leavin the darkness<br />leavin the parchmnt<br />leavin, always leavin<br />lik m leavin u now<br />not fr gud, just fr nowUnknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-78480786385052982802008-03-10T22:05:00.006+00:002008-03-10T22:43:20.526+00:00419From: Lady Hypnos Pearly Pandora.<br />No:36 Old Shrewberry Street,<br />London England.<br /><br /><br />Beloved,<br />I am Lady Hypnos Pearly Pandora, suffering from cancerous ailment.I used to be married to Sir Rosjoy Goldentouch an English aristocat of very high breeding who is dead and resting peacefully. My husband was an able-bodied seaman all his life before he passed. Our life together as man and wife lasted for three minutes without offsprings. My husband died after a protracted illness in an accident he got from Africa while on humanitarian duties. He was shot while scavenging from dustbins, then cooked and eaten. My husband,while he was alive made a vow to uplift the down-trodden and the less-privileged individuals as he had passion for persons who can not help themselves due to physical disability or financial predicament.I can adduce this to the fact that he needed a Child from the marriage, which never came. <br /><br /><br />When my late husband was alive he deposited the sum of Twenty Million Pounds (20,000,000.00 Million Great Britain Pounds Sterling)which were derived from his vast estates and investment in capital market with his bank here in UK. Presently, this money is still with the Bank. Recently, my Doctor told me that I have limited days to live due to the cancerous problems I am suffering from. Which effect my grammer; syntax and speling.<br /><br /><br />Though what bothers me most is the Tennis Elbow that I have in addition to the cancer. With this hard reality that has befallen me, I have decided to donate this fund to you and want you to use this gift which comes from my husbands effort to fund the upkeep of widows, widowers, orphans, destitute, the down-trodden, physically challenged children, barren-women and persons who prove to be genuinely handicapped financially, such as people who are obliged to live <a href="http://rillysuper.blogspot.com/">Up North</a>.<br /><br /><br />I took this decision because I do not have any child that will inherit this money and my husbands relatives are bourgeois and very wealthy individuals and I do not want my husbands hard earned money to be misused or invested into ill perceived ventures such as dolphin-flavoured catfood. I do not want this money to be misused hence the reason for taking this bold decision. I am not afraid of death hence I know <a href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/02/funny-pictures-preaching-about-lolcats.jpg">where I am going</a>. I do not need any telephone communication in this regard due to my deteriorating health and because of the presence of my husbands relatives around me. I do not want them to know about this development because i want the money used for the Less Previledged. Also, holding a telephone is quite tricky in my predicament. <br /><br /><br />My happiness is that I lived a life worthy of emulation. Please assure me that you will act just as I have stated herein. Hope to hear from you soon.You can contact me through my personal email address at: pandorafunds419@hotmail.scam<br /><br /><br />Thanking you in advance for everything,<br />Sincerely yours,<br /><a href="http://www.supremecatshow.org/supwin98.html">Lady Hypnos Pearly Pandora</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-34512477045477207072008-03-05T20:25:00.003+00:002008-03-05T20:48:39.482+00:00Dungeon CatYou find yourself in a large chamber dimly lit by flickering torches.<br />Passages lead off to the north and east.<br />A spiral staircase leads up into darkness.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Look.<br /></span><br />Looking around, you see:<br />* A large, glittering emerald.<br />* A short, bronze sword inscribed with mysterious runes.<br />* A wooden box.<br />* A collection of small, coloured polyhedrons.<br />* A sheet of parchment.<br /><br />You hear a meowing sound coming from the box.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Get box.<br /></span><br />You pick up the wooden box. It shifts in your hands.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Open box.</span><br /><br />You open the wooden box.<br />Inside the box, you see:<br />* A small, glowing lump of metal.<br />* A geiger counter.<br />* A vial marked "Poison".<br />* A small, black cat.<br /><br />The cat leaps from the box and disappears up the spiral staircase.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Get parchment.</span><br /><br />You pick up the sheet of parchment. It bears an inscription.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Read parchment.</span><br /><br /><em>R.I.P. Gary Gygax, co-creator of D&D.</em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com81tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-9095249196284305522008-02-25T21:35:00.002+00:002008-02-25T21:41:41.699+00:00King James VersionAnd so it was, that the days were accomplished, that she would be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and then a daughter, then two more sons and another daughter.<br /><br />Verily I say unto you, the children she did clasp to her bosom, and did give suck, for unto this time had she awaited. But the Tom had forsaken her, and lo! she was wroth and exceedingly distressed.<br /><br />Blessed be the kit who doth know his father, and his father's name. Unto him shall come much milk and kibble. But woe to the fatherless kit who comes not with mice to instruct the young and favor his spouse.<br /><br />And when the time was passed, and the kits weaned from her bosom, then did the cat seek the Tom, for his place in their instruction was ordained by the prophets, but he came not, neither could she find him.Sewmousehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01698392521648800227noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-36833547908680141342008-01-28T02:23:00.000+00:002008-01-28T02:33:47.537+00:00miss cat, beat poet& then that cat cat flew outta my head and outta my crib & then he was gone leaving me with adam's rib 'cos it's soooooo like the way the artichokes ramble on and on but then mysteriously he was gone it was said that he came back but i never saw it happen so he's still gone and it's all whack<br /><br />whatever the place is empty like blue orbits of the moon and when it happens like that it's the middle of june i can't find him no more so i went to the store and stored up more so sore my head's so sore thinking about that cat and his mat and where my head's at i wish and i wish that my thinking weren't flat<br /><br />mister cat you're tiring me out i need a dish of trout to fill my belly out what you did when you left me last wednesday night it ain't right I'm contrite and my eyes in the light can't see anything anything anything new so what do I do and so man i flew from the door to the store and i can't buy no more this materialism is making me sore<br /><br />so i say mister cat you making me ache give me a break you just come and you take so you better be back mister cat and that's thatUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-34168263244339212962008-01-13T20:54:00.000+00:002008-01-13T21:02:58.853+00:00The Mass Spectrometrists CatMeanwhile.....<br /><br />The Mass Spectrometrists Cat <br /><br />Sat on the <a href="http://www.chem.umn.edu/services/massspec/mat95.HTML">Finnigan Mat</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-78445179632306617762008-01-10T19:38:00.000+00:002008-01-10T19:46:28.519+00:00Singleton chicklitThursday 10th Jan. Still single. <br /><br />Was hoping to be writing about my new man, Tom, but the fucker decided to run off after our date last night.<br /><br />FUCKER!<br /><br />Had so much fun (note to self: too much fun? Is this bad?) and felt like we really clicked. Disgracefully, let him shag me on our first date. Am dreadful old sleazy floozy.<br /><br />Obviously was not hard enought to get, as once he'd got he legged it.<br /><br />Did I give him my number? Can't remember. Damn, damn, damn.<br /><br />Ha. Will ignore him if (when?) he calls, and pretend have many other gorgeous possible dates after me. That'll teach him. He will then keep calling me and professing undying love. Need to work on my sexy rejection voice for the first few calls.<br /><br />(Later)<br /><br />Unless (horrible thought!) he calls round. FUCK! He might turn up on the doorstep, calling for me! I look like shit! <br /><br />Need a serious grooming session...my hair is a disgrace! <br /><br />(Much later, much, much later)<br /><br />Oh, what's the point?<br /><br />Fuck it.<br /><br />Where's those sardines?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-30442872220609305482008-01-08T21:14:00.000+00:002008-01-08T21:57:25.177+00:00Trashy PornShe woke up in darkness, yawned and stretched. It was warm in here, but stifling in more ways than one. Pushing open the door, she stepped briefly into the glow of a streetlight and glanced around. What she needed, she decided, lay towards the less salubrious quarter of town. <br /><br />Slinking along in the shadows, taking shortcuts through the back alleys, she followed her nose to the fishy smell of the docks. And there, swaggering off the gangplank of a trawler, powerful muscles rippling with every step, was just the fellow she was after. <br /><br />"Hey, Tom," she called. They always answered to Tom. "Looking for a good time?" <br /><br />His head jerked around as if he'd been punched on the jaw. "Well, hey there, Kitty," he smiled, showing a dazzling array of teeth. His gaze quickly travelled from her green eyes, taking in the sleekness of her waist before coming to rest on her firm thighs. "What did you have in mind?"<br /><br />"Do I really need to answer that?"<br /><br />Moments later, their bodies were locked together in a tangle of limbs, thrusting and grinding and that. "Boy, you don't waste any time, do you? You must have been on that boat a loooooooong time. Ah! Yes! Yes! Oooooooooooooohhhhhh! Baby, yes! etc."<br /><br />A boot came flying past her ear. "Shut the fuck UP! Bloody cats!"<br /><br />Before she could draw breath, Tom was gone, tail disappearing behind a packing crate.<br /><br />"Call me!" she yowled hopefully, before heading back towards the bright lights of town.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-67342355273631504562007-12-14T04:23:00.000+00:002007-12-14T04:26:24.440+00:00E.E. Cummingsbut<br /><br />&thisis the<br /><br /><br />(in the manner of)<br /><br />and so the<br />hat flying furiously<br /><br />:as it will,<br /><br /><br />when all feline friends are interwoven<br />brokenly;<br /><br />and over the hill<br />comes<br /><br /><br />(I share the cream)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-81433748920358634632007-12-11T18:54:00.000+00:002007-12-11T19:35:53.861+00:00Legal Document.<p> 'A HAT LAY ON THE DUSTY MAT'.<br />This is not acceptable, too much risk of asthma.<br /><br />'INSIDE THE HAT, THERE SAT A CAT'.<br /><br />No,no. You cannot have a cat sat inside a hat, think of the allergy ramifications!<br /><br />'THE MAT WAS GREY'.<br /><br />Safe, neutral colour.<br /><br />'THE HAT WAS GREY'.<br /><br />Camouflage, I like this!<br /><br />'THE CAT WAS HOLDING A BASEBALL BAT.'<br /><br />Now, you're running a fine line,threatening behaviour!<br /><br />'WHO GIVES A DAMN WHERE THE MAT CAT SAT?'<br /><br />The jury's out........<br /><br /></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11346682505354790114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-8385055626965069512007-12-11T15:39:00.000+00:002007-12-11T15:41:34.413+00:00Dr. SeussA hat lay on the dusty mat<br />Inside the hat there sat a cat<br />The mat was grey<br />the hat was grey<br />the cat was holding a baseball bat<br />Who gives a damn where the mat cat sat?Sewmousehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01698392521648800227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-24971636156329357502007-12-03T20:49:00.001+00:002007-12-04T11:50:53.136+00:00Agony AuntDear "Felix"<br /><br />Thank you so much for your long and very interesting letter. It did take me a while to decipher it, though. Perhaps you could use a keyboard next time, as your writing is a little difficult to read. <br /><br />I couldn't make head nor tail of some of it!<br /><br />As requested, I am replying through my column (oh, I do hate having to use that term!) to protect your privacy.<br /><br />You certainly have some interesting issues to deal with.<br /><br />First things first.<br /><br />The man who is cutting holes in your door. You didn't mention whether you know him, or if he is some sort of wandering madman, trying to get in. If it is the latter. I advise you VERY STRONGLY to call the police IMMEDIATELY. <br /><br />Yes, immediately. <br /><br />No, no trying to talk to him. If he is using power tools to break in, dial 999. It's for the best, lovie.<br /><br />Secondly, you say that you feel that nobody listens to you. Oh, my dear, my dear. We all feel that way sometimes. Are you using the right language? Simply changing the tone of your voice might be all it needs to make people sit up and take notice.<br /><br />However, it worries me rather that you talk about jumping onto your housemates' laps to get their attention. This is not constructive behaviour, sweetie. You'll get a reputation if nothing else! And you might end up hurting someone. I know it makes you feel better in the short term, but think about it...is it the kind of thing that you can carry on indefinitely?<br /><br />Finally, the destructive behaviour. You didn't go into much detail about this, and to be honest your writing was rather hard to understand here. Were you getting very excited when you wrote this part of your letter? <br /><br />I made out the words "kitteh skrach skrach skrach" I think. And "Ah luvs mah klaus!!111!!!" but I was left a little bewildered by this, I must confess. Were you referring to a dreadful experience at a childhood Christmas perhaps? <br /><br />Anyway, I think you need to try to get out into the fresh air and take your mind off things.<br /><br />Maybe meet a nice girl or two?<br /><br />Have you thought about taking up a new activity? What about singing? It is TERRIBLY good for cheering oneself up, sweetie. You might discover a voice you never knew you had! <br /><br />Please let me know how you get on. <br /><br />Auntie Maudie.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-40087164923062602472007-11-30T21:40:00.000+00:002007-11-30T22:15:35.056+00:00Chaucer<span style="font-family:Excalibur SF, Times New Roman, Ariel;">Forsooth, and that, sayeth ye churl, thatte catte be exceeding fatte to fitte through yonder hole. Methinks Ich shall haue to fetch me a deuice for to make ye catte smaller, or mayhaps make ye hole bigger? Sikerly it be as Maister Murphy hath proclaimed, that an hole cutte to fitte shalle not be fitte for its purpose. Fol de rol. Ich haue made an japerye.<br /><br />Swyve thys for an game of soldiery, Ich haue an better idea by far! Ich shall give ye catte to mine gude freende Johannes Gowere and get mineself an hounde!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-26586872836338206482007-11-24T18:42:00.000+00:002007-11-24T19:31:17.319+00:00Technical manual.When Mat came back from his nightly excursion, and landed successfully in the lounge via the window he had craftily left open, Cat crapped on him. It was not a malicious crap, but one much needed as Mat had flown off with the kitty litter, and during his victory roll it fell off and landed on some poor bloke two doors down the street who was busily reading a technical manual on how to fit a cat flap in his back door.<br /><br />The work was not going too well, and the last thing he needed was somebody elses' cat crap landing on him. Unmoved, he carried on.<br /><br />Step 1: Measure door width to ensure correct centralisation of hole to be cut.<br />Step 2: Cut hole by drilling four holes, one in each corner, then use saw to make cuts between holes.<br />Step 3: Before fitting cat-flap check cat fits through hole.<br />Step 4: If cat is too big for hole................?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11346682505354790114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1578741008659251559.post-39413065569050009602007-11-21T11:22:00.000+00:002007-11-21T11:30:10.442+00:00Meanwhile back at the ranch…Mathew had been lying about all day. Because that’s what he did, all day, everyday, except on the days when his mistress decided he needed a good beating. Today though was a normal sort of day, she was out and the large paddle remained hanging in the cupboard. So Mathew spent his day lying around on the cold stone floor. Well, that’s what mats do innit.<br /><br />The cat had been gone a long while. Mat was used to the comings and going of the cat and was always there to welcome and enjoy her warm, furry closeness as she curled up on top of him. This time it was different, it felt different, the cat had been gone too long, far too long.<br /><br />Mat was a good and decent mat and he was getting worried. Very worried. What could have happened. She must be in some kind of trouble. Bad trouble. He thought to himself. In short sentences. Because that’s how mats think. And speak.<br /><br />If only I could get away. I could find her. Rescue her. From whatever peril. She may have encountered. I am worried.<br /><br />Now, most people are unaware that mats and related species have the ability to move by themselves, albeit not very far at any given time. People will notice that mats have moved but jump to the wrong conclusion and they always blame someone else. Usually the kids. <br /><br />Mat had tried to move on several occasions, however, he had never managed more than a few inches without his mistress shouting “Stop running around and will somebody straighten that bloody mat”.<br /><br />He had even tried exercising. But as everyone knows it is not that easy to get a decent carpet fitter.<br /><br />If only he could fly! All mats knew the legend of the flying carpet, and all believed that the utterance of a single magical word could induce levitation and give aeronautical freedom to any form of floor based upholstery.<br /><br />“I wish I knew The Magic Word “ He said aloud.<br /><br />“We do” Chorused back several voices from around the house.<br /><br />“What” exclaimed Mat. “You carpets. You know the magic word”<br /><br />“Of course we do. Why else do you think that they keep our edges fastened down” (Carpets can manage much longer sentences. It’s a pro-rata thing)<br /><br />“What is it then? Please tell. I need to rescue the cat”<br /><br />“We are not allowed to tell you”<br /><br />“Please. It’s important. Very Important.”<br /><br />“I suppose we can give him clues, and he could work it out for himself, and then we won’t have broken the carpet code of conduct” Said the stair carpet (Who could manage the longest sentences of all)<br /><br />“Well OK” said the lounge carpet. It’s got 5 syllables, the last two are the same as the first two”<br /><br />“Okayyy” replied Mat thoughtfully.<br /><br />“First syllable vowel” came the quiet voice of the fitted carpet behind the closed door of the cloakroom.<br /><br />“Ahhh” thought Mat. “Hooray” cheered the carpets.<br /><br />“Oh??” said Mat” <br /><br />“Noooooo” said the carpets<br /><br />“Got It” Said Mat. <br /><br />“Second syllable mistress underwear” wafted our from under the door of the upstairs toilet.<br /><br />“Knickers!” Exclaimed Mat.<br /><br />“Noooo” chorused the carpets. “Keep trying”<br /><br />“Third syllable”. “Master’s Job”<br /><br />“Now you have all the information you need” Said the lounge carpet.<br /><br />Mat thought hard.<br /><br />“A - Thong – Computer Aided Design” He announced, much to the amusement of all the other carpets.<br /><br />“I’ll never get it”, he berbered as the piles of laughter died away. <br /><br />“Get a gripper on yourself man. Try again. Think acronyms”<br /><br />“OK, ermmmmm” “A – Thong – CAD”<br /><br />“Almost, other kinds.”<br /><br />Mat tried hard to think of the underwear owned by his mistress, the problem was that he was only really familiar with the items that he was able to see from his position on the floor. (There are some advantages to being a mat)<br /><br />Suddenly he remembered one particular night when his mistress came home in a very excited state and he had found himself completely covered in her clothes a few seconds after her arrival.<br /><br />He thought hard. Dress. Stockings. Suspender belt. Thong. What was it, something else, yes? …..YES, …..YES!!!*. He remembered. A Bra!. <br /><br />“A - Bra – CAD!”<br /><br />All of a sudden he felt very peculiar and if asked would have described the feeling of being light headed. If he had one. <br /><br />“Remember the five syllables, Last two the same as the first”<br /><br />Mat took a deep breath and announced….<br /><br />“A-Bra-CAD-A-Bra!”<br /><br />He rose from the floor, a bit wobbly at first, but soon he was floating majestically in mid air. <br /><br />The rest of the carpets cheered. “Now go and find the cat”<br /><br />With a wave of his label Mat performed an impromptu victory roll, shot upstairs and flew out through an open window into the big wide world.<br /><br /><br /><em>*Which, strangely enough, was exactly what his mistress had said.</em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4