The big news here in the Warsaw has been the Madonna concert and she was playing just down the road at the airfield at Bemowo.
Personally, I'm not a fan although Like an Urchin, Papa don't belch and Ray, fix the light are not too bad.
I would have given her the benefit of the doubt were it not for her antics yesterday. On the way to the airfield, she kept circling above us in her helicopter, waving and shouting out of the window 'CooWee!'
'Bugger off!' I said. 'We're wooden cats and we've no interest in football. We're not Stanley Mathews. We want to eat chicken.' It took a while but she eventually took the hint. Some people are such attention seekers.
We had a quiet night in and listened to Delius. We're very sophisticated wooden cats. 'Touched for the very first time. Like an ur, ur, ur, ur chin with your trousers, on the line.' You have to admit it is quite catchy and Delius does go on a bit. See how it all began.
Name day:
Tight socks that stop your circulation
Cat News
Here is the news
Cat police tune in, but not to Police Station
Last week, I lost my mind. I reported it to the Cat Police but of course, they did nothing. I think they don’t do anything but sit on their dormant derrieres in the Cat mobile, listening to Radio Daft. Quite Fredly, cat policing has gone to the dogs and I shall be speaking to my MEP (Member of the European Purrlement) about it.
Scoop for Meow, fish for everyone else
Our celebrity couple, Marek and Dorota have announced their wedding date as 11th of July to coincide with the birthday of Jussi 69, their favourite Finnish drummer. They’ve sold their story to Meow Magazine for an undisclosed some of sardines.
Return of the God Hamster
Now for some very worrying news. Lady of the House reported seeing a Giant Hamster cage being moved in next door. Yes, it looks like the Hamster Mafia are back and it’s The God Hamster all over again. They’ve a particularly ugly scam going on at the moment selling lawn mowers to people in apartments. The old, naïve and gullible are suckered into buying a swanky, all singing, all dancing lawn mower. By the time they realise they don’t have a lawn, it’s too late and their life savings are already on their way to Oswaldtwistle.
Cat lovers turn ugly
Complaints. Some of our readers have complained that this isn’t a catblog at all as there are barely any real cats in it and the stories don’t appeal to genuine cat lovers. Ohhh get you! Scratch your eyes out!
As the editor, I have to remain resilient, stick to my principles and not panda bear to the lowest sugared mice tastes. Still, no point in antagonising your audience, so here are some cute little kittens. Ahh.
Next week: Recipes
Roast kitten with mice in a spicy lizard sauce (Yumski - my favourite)
Name day
Toodle pip
Claude Makalele
Cat police tune in, but not to Police Station
Last week, I lost my mind. I reported it to the Cat Police but of course, they did nothing. I think they don’t do anything but sit on their dormant derrieres in the Cat mobile, listening to Radio Daft. Quite Fredly, cat policing has gone to the dogs and I shall be speaking to my MEP (Member of the European Purrlement) about it.
Scoop for Meow, fish for everyone else
Our celebrity couple, Marek and Dorota have announced their wedding date as 11th of July to coincide with the birthday of Jussi 69, their favourite Finnish drummer. They’ve sold their story to Meow Magazine for an undisclosed some of sardines.
Return of the God Hamster
Now for some very worrying news. Lady of the House reported seeing a Giant Hamster cage being moved in next door. Yes, it looks like the Hamster Mafia are back and it’s The God Hamster all over again. They’ve a particularly ugly scam going on at the moment selling lawn mowers to people in apartments. The old, naïve and gullible are suckered into buying a swanky, all singing, all dancing lawn mower. By the time they realise they don’t have a lawn, it’s too late and their life savings are already on their way to Oswaldtwistle.
Cat lovers turn ugly
Complaints. Some of our readers have complained that this isn’t a catblog at all as there are barely any real cats in it and the stories don’t appeal to genuine cat lovers. Ohhh get you! Scratch your eyes out!
As the editor, I have to remain resilient, stick to my principles and not panda bear to the lowest sugared mice tastes. Still, no point in antagonising your audience, so here are some cute little kittens. Ahh.
Next week: Recipes
Roast kitten with mice in a spicy lizard sauce (Yumski - my favourite)
Name day
Toodle pip
Claude Makalele
Family Tree
The Prodigal started it when Parsnip was born and he wanted to find out who her forefathers were. I was confused because I thought humans could only have one father but now it seems you can have up to four. This must make it really complicated when you try to trace your roots and draw your family tree.
Bartek suggested we should trace our family tree and foolishly, I agreed but we soon ran into difficulties. The first was that because we live in an apartment, (with Skup view) we don’t have a tree, let alone a family one. Instead, we decided to adopt a tree that wasn’t owned by a family and we chose one on Plocka. Next, we tried to trace it but it’s quite a big tree and we had to stick a lot of pieces of tracing paper together and tangled up our paws in taszma. Even so, the end result was more of a brass-rubbing than a tracing and I’m not sure what we learnt apart from ‘don’t try to trace a tree.’ Some people spend hours going through church records but usually, they don’t have much of a collection - not even any Elvis Presley. They say that, ‘God moves in a mysterious way’, but no Elvis?
Anyway, it’s a well known fact that wooden cats come from two ancient families and originate in Thailand. The first is the ‘Cat’ family as featured in Chinese astrology and Al Stewart’s ‘Year of the cat.’ The other line is Tiger Woods, the golfer who wrote our family song; it goes like this:
We don’t have a tree
But a freezer full of ice-cream
We don’t have leaves
But a Thai sports stream
We ain’t that bad
But we ain’t that good
We’re all made ‘o woooooood (yo)
In the cat neighbourhood (shudup already!)
Name day:
False moustache
Wig glue
Bartek suggested we should trace our family tree and foolishly, I agreed but we soon ran into difficulties. The first was that because we live in an apartment, (with Skup view) we don’t have a tree, let alone a family one. Instead, we decided to adopt a tree that wasn’t owned by a family and we chose one on Plocka. Next, we tried to trace it but it’s quite a big tree and we had to stick a lot of pieces of tracing paper together and tangled up our paws in taszma. Even so, the end result was more of a brass-rubbing than a tracing and I’m not sure what we learnt apart from ‘don’t try to trace a tree.’ Some people spend hours going through church records but usually, they don’t have much of a collection - not even any Elvis Presley. They say that, ‘God moves in a mysterious way’, but no Elvis?
Anyway, it’s a well known fact that wooden cats come from two ancient families and originate in Thailand. The first is the ‘Cat’ family as featured in Chinese astrology and Al Stewart’s ‘Year of the cat.’ The other line is Tiger Woods, the golfer who wrote our family song; it goes like this:
We don’t have a tree
But a freezer full of ice-cream
We don’t have leaves
But a Thai sports stream
We ain’t that bad
But we ain’t that good
We’re all made ‘o woooooood (yo)
In the cat neighbourhood (shudup already!)
Name day:
False moustache
Wig glue
Piano playing cat takes centre stage
Personally, I blame Lady of the House.
As if we hadn’t had enough stress with the bird siege, the other night, the Council vans came round with Cat Hoovers. They drive along the road making an awful noise, sucking up stray cats from the gutter. Naturally, we were all pretty scared but Harvey was petrified, ran into the bedroom and hid under the covers.
Lady of the House was Brucing it on Youtube. After twenty seven discordant choruses of ‘have you ever seen a one legged dog?’ (Of course not, it would fall over) she finally went to powder her nose.
Harvey sneaked onto the computer and typed in ‘Nora’ which was a strange choice but luckily came up with a cat. I say luckily but actually, it’s a complete catcophony. The keyboard kitty is meant to be catuoso but I think she’s a fur ball. Most cats play piano and Cat Lee Whiskers Lewis, Lick Wakeman and ‘Four paws’ Peterson are all much better.
Harvey sits glued to the screen dribbling down his chin. How to unglue him without damaging the screen is the question. He knocked over the glue pot jumping up. I’d look up solvents but the mouse has gone into hiding. No good ever came of Brucing it.
As if we hadn’t had enough stress with the bird siege, the other night, the Council vans came round with Cat Hoovers. They drive along the road making an awful noise, sucking up stray cats from the gutter. Naturally, we were all pretty scared but Harvey was petrified, ran into the bedroom and hid under the covers.
Lady of the House was Brucing it on Youtube. After twenty seven discordant choruses of ‘have you ever seen a one legged dog?’ (Of course not, it would fall over) she finally went to powder her nose.
Harvey sneaked onto the computer and typed in ‘Nora’ which was a strange choice but luckily came up with a cat. I say luckily but actually, it’s a complete catcophony. The keyboard kitty is meant to be catuoso but I think she’s a fur ball. Most cats play piano and Cat Lee Whiskers Lewis, Lick Wakeman and ‘Four paws’ Peterson are all much better.
Harvey sits glued to the screen dribbling down his chin. How to unglue him without damaging the screen is the question. He knocked over the glue pot jumping up. I’d look up solvents but the mouse has gone into hiding. No good ever came of Brucing it.
I'm a mod
Bob lives! Thanks to your kind donations, the chocolate famine is behind us and with the bird siege over, everything is hanky-panky-mimby-jimby. To celebrate, we all went down to Wedels which is The Warsaw’s premier chocolate boozer. I had lashings of drinking chocky which was yumski. Well, we rather over-indulged and more than one of us needed a tummy rub when we got home. Have you ever smelt chocolate burps? They’re quite nice actually.
As you probably know, next to Wedels is a Vespa shop and being in the middle of the Tomcat menopaws, I needed to let my fur down and feel the wind in my whiskers. I’ve bought one and now I’m a mod!
Do you have a problem with that? Do you want a fight? Are you calling me a dog? Have you got any Small Faces or Jam? Are you going to the Isle of Mice?
Name Day
Squirrel droppings
Anything wet
Help Bob Now!
Saved! Builder’s Bum below got so fed up with Mr Ploppy landing on his motor that he shot at the fiendish fowl until the feathered felons flew the nest. Hooray! Botty for President! But this has only exposed a further crisis. As you know, during the siege, chocolate stock levels plummeted and the reduced cocoa intake has left me dangerously weak which is why I am appealing to you directly.
Bob needs chocolate
Without it, he will perish
Don’t let it be on your conscience
Send chocolate now (No white - it sucks)
Any solid bar is good and in particular, bounty, kit-kat, twix and snickers
Bob needs chocolate now
Please give generously
Don’t send money, just chocolate
Help a cat today
Help Bob
Bob needs your chocolate
NOW!
SEND THE FECKIN’ CHOCKY NOW YU IJUT!
Name day:
Rotunda
Peel off face mask
Belly fluff
The Birds
We’ve been in hiding and it’s embarrassing for a cat to admit but we’re being terrorised by birds. It started on one of the few sunny days in May. Lady of the House was ‘having a hot one’ and opened the window. Harvey had been counting his loot and foolishly left the lid of his treasure chest open. The next thing we knew, psychopathic Magpies were pecking at the shiny coins like ferrets in a rucksack.
But it didn’t stop there. Oh no. Barney was beaten up by The Crow Twins on the way home - they gave him a right beaking. Even the Cat Police don’t want to know and the neighbourhood is ungovernable. Skup Monsters are being mugged of their beer cans and the Ravens have set up a brothel in the shed below. They’ve imported some illegal immigrant Flamingos for a bit of naughty (- say no more squire) exotic dancing - if you get my drifting lilo.
We’ve had no milk for days (only breast milk) and I’m down to my last bounty. I don’t know what I shall do if I run out of chocolate - it doesn’t bare thinking about.
In case this is my last post, I officially donate my ears to scientific research.
Tell the children, Daddy loves them.
Yours always
Bob
P.S. They’re pecking at the windows as I speak. We’re done for. God help us all.
Name day
Catastrophe
But it didn’t stop there. Oh no. Barney was beaten up by The Crow Twins on the way home - they gave him a right beaking. Even the Cat Police don’t want to know and the neighbourhood is ungovernable. Skup Monsters are being mugged of their beer cans and the Ravens have set up a brothel in the shed below. They’ve imported some illegal immigrant Flamingos for a bit of naughty (- say no more squire) exotic dancing - if you get my drifting lilo.
We’ve had no milk for days (only breast milk) and I’m down to my last bounty. I don’t know what I shall do if I run out of chocolate - it doesn’t bare thinking about.
In case this is my last post, I officially donate my ears to scientific research.
Tell the children, Daddy loves them.
Yours always
Bob
P.S. They’re pecking at the windows as I speak. We’re done for. God help us all.
Name day
Catastrophe