Category: Uncategorised

Just a brief post as it’s damn late and I’m knackered. I just got in from seeing Twisted Sister and Alice Cooper. Old school(‘s Out) or what?

The whole of Sister and Alice himself are in (or near) their 50’s. You’d think they’d know better. Thank **** they don’t.

And now, to bed, with ears-a-ringing. Got to be up to get Ed to the vet for pod-snippage. The poor bugger’s currently starving (couldn’t feed him after 8pm because he’s going to be anaesthetised) and tried to swipe some of my beans on toast a few minutes ago. I’m glad I’m planning on getting rid of this carpet…

Healthy dinner

Last night I ate mostly a 6-egg chicken-and-baked-bean omelette. The eggs were only 2 weeks (ish) out of date, but only carried a faint green tinge and didn’t smell much.

Would you please send all condolence cards for the person who sits next to me in the office to the usual address.

Things you want to hear when you’re in bed with a really fit bird you just pulled in the pub

“My sister would like to join in… she’s always fancied you.”

“Bondage? Mmmm… yes! I love being tied up and used!”

“Oh, yes! Yes! You’re the daddy!”

“That noise? It’s the cat trying to get into the room.”

“I shaved, just for you.”

“You make me tingle inside.”

“Of course I swallow.”

“Cum deep inside me, oh yeah!”

“Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah AHHHH YES!”

Things you don’t want to hear when you’re in bed with a really fit bird you just pulled in the pub

“My brother would like to join in… he’s always fancied you.”

“Bondage? Mmmm… yes! I’ve a lovely 10-inch strap on I could **** you up the arse with!”

“Oh, yes! **** me like daddy does!”

“That noise? It’s my jealous ex-convict husband trying to break into the house.”

“I’m going to get it removed, just for you. Just as soon as I get the date from the sex-change clinic.”

“I hope I don’t make you tingle with that rash I passed onto my last boyfriend.”

“I used to swallow, but now it dribbles out of my tracheotomy hole.”

“I want your babies!!!”

“You can see that bit on the ceiling where the rain leaked in last year. Are you not finished yet?”

Here’s a story that some of you know already. I thought I’d share it with the rest of you.

About 6 years ago, give or take, I went on holiday with Psycho Ex. We weren’t technically "together" at the time or anything, at least not as far as her friend who fancied me was concerned. Still at the point a psycho, but a few months away from being the ex. Anyways…

It was the last day and we’d all packed to head back home. The coach picked us up from the hotel (eventually – it was almost 2 hours late) and dropped us off at the airport. On the way, we got the usual lecture about not having guns, fireworks, knives and so on in our carry on luggage. Replicas were fine in the luggage to be stored in the hold. This was pre-11/9 so the warnings weren’t as strict as they are now.

The usual queues ensued at the airport as all those people we’d not talked to for a week in the hotel started asking how the holiday had been and so on. Boredom does that to a person. Gradually, we worked our way down the queue and placed our luggage on the conveyor belt. Cases first, then handbags and stuff.

My bag went *PING* as it went through the x-ray machine. Oohfuck. All of a sudden, a guard is by my side and he doesn’t speak English. He does, however, have a ******* big gun.

My mind races. Could anyone have got near my bag after I packed it? No. Not at all. Had I inadvertantly bought an alarm clock stuffed with plasticene as a gift for someone? Not that I could recall. Perhaps I’d accidentally bundled a hotel towel in there and Spain is really strict on nicking stuff like that?

The guard starts babbling in Spanish to me, gesticulating at his waist. ****, he’s going to get his gun!

No… no. He’s threatening to cuff me. Holy ****, I’m going to jail. No… he’s just pointing at.. the… cuffs… Aaaaahhshit.

Nobody on the bus told me I couldn’t take novelty fur-covered handcuffs onto the plane in my hand luggage. I’d kind of bought them for Psycho Ex as a surprise when we got home.

Oops.

They ended up going back through the hold, all on their tod. This little square box rolling down the luggage conveyor with the huge suitcases and rucksacks. Amazingly, they made it all the way back to Manchester. Of all the things not to get lost somewhere near Bermuda.

I am an ungrateful bastard

One of our customers gave us a whacking big tin of Celebrations yesterday as a “thank you”. The selfish, *******. It’s sat next to my desk (there’s a spare desk next to mine) and I think I’ve eaten half of them.

I’ve hardly touched chocolate for a month and now I’ve eaten more in two days than I used to eat in a week. Gah!

Pussy revenge

I think Ed’s sussed that I’m having his knackers whipped off. I was having a slash earlier today when I felt a sharp pain in the back of my right leg. I jerked away, squealed like a girl and shot a stream of piss down my left trouser leg.

It was Ed, stretching and treating my lower limbs like a scratching post.

On top of this, he now chews my toes and ankles if I walk around barefoot. There is no ******* way I’m going to traverse the house bollock naked at the moment. Too much temptation for a vindictive kitty.

Message for Damo

Fella, get in touch with Colin/CABD (linked on my blog). I went to school with him, he also now lives in Cambridge and he’s one smart bastard. He could be the secret weapon you need…

I’d have left a comment on your blog, but you’ve got comments set to “team members only”.

Not that kind, you ******* perverts.

I was in Morrisons getting some shopping the other day when I paused at the cat food aisle. I’m trying to get KK onto dry food as it’s apparently cheaper (my arse – it’s twice the price of canned stuff), so I was stood staring for a while.

Up walks (well, hobbles) a little old lady. “Have you got a fussy pussy, too?”

Oh dear. It was one of those moments that had I had a mouthful of drink it’d have gone everywhere. I managed to engage her in polite conversation without making any reference to Mrs Slocombe, or slappers.

You should be proud.

On the subject of cats, Ed’s having his bollocks whipped off next week. Shh. Don’t tell him.