Hooray! We're back. How long has it been? 3 months? Wow.
We were wickedly tricked. We took advantage of what appeared to be a new, large, rather generous saucer of milk and when we bent down to drink from it, it was in fact a flying saucer.
Yes, you've guessed it; we were abducted by aliens. Well it happens from time to time.
Our hosts were quite kind and didn't mistreat us. On the first day, they asked what we ate and wondering what Paddington Bear would do in such a situation, I rather impulsively said 'marmalade sandwiches.' This was a big mistake as for the duration of the stay, that was all we got. OK up to day 16 but a little sickly thereafter.
I think Babs irritated them somewhat and they decided to move on to another galaxy with fewer dents de lapin. Luckily, only wooden cats have returned to the Warsaw and we are as good as a Woody Woodpecker.
Only Barney escaped abduction and in our absence seems to have reverted back to his old ways. He is off milk and back on to Spiritus. He's been listening to a lot of hip hop and tells me that he's now 'in the hood,' whatever that means.
I have named today, 'Independence day,' to mark our release. This is quite fortunate as it is the same as in the Poland so it will already be marked on calendars. Such coincidences suggest that there really is a God and he loves wooden cats too.
If you are wondering where we were abducted to, it was Planet Claire. It's quite well known and the B52's even made a song about it, so you can find out all you need to know here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1EPP3gkh_00
That's all for now. Lady of the House has been busy but I have got quite a lot of my own mouse work to catch up on so I'd better get started. See you soon if I don't get abducted again. Touch wood!
Name day - quite a busy day with a number of liberty related themes
Free introductory offer day
Free handcream day
Free Willy (now available on the national health) day
Yesterday's cat conundrum
No answers given today as this will be contrary to labour law
Yesterday's cat conundrum will be today's cat conundrum and the answer will be given in Punjabi
Babs
I am pleased to say that MATH has made a complete recovery but cleaning up all the shoe polish from around the house has been quite a job. This has not been made any easier by Bill. LOTH has made him a small shed on the Balkon so that he can do useful things with pieces of wood.
Added to this, LOTH is now an infamous author and has a circle of friends larger than the rings of Saturn so she had to place an ad in Gazeta Wyborcza. At first, she put it in the female seeking female section and got some rather strange and interesting replies but not really what she was looking for. It was more succesful in the Praca section.
Lady of the House seeks other lady to help with mousework, shopping, general doings and domestic repairs. (Man about the House hasn't got a clue!) Must be cat lover.
A number of Polish women phoned but who knows what they said? - Not LOTH, so she was limited to the one that spoke English although even that was dubious.
LOTH maybe needs some help with interviewing because Babs sort of employed herself.
The doorbell rang and Babs bounced in almost flattening LOTH. She wore a bright yellow floral dress which rather inflating her already ample wobbling bossoms and spare rubber ring stomach tyres.
'My name's Babs!' She announced enthusiastically and then rather cryptically, added,
'Ave yow got buck teeth?'
Lady of the House looked rather worried and bewildered.
'Hahaha!' Babs roared. 'No, yow 'aven't but oy 'ave!' More piercing laughter followed.
'I once met a French boy,' she continued, 'well actually, 'e was from Walsall but let's not spoil it and 'e said to me, Babs, yow is viry byowtiful 'cos yow 'ave got dents de lapin. Oooh ow romintic oy thought. Well this won't bath any babies, 'oy 'ope yow've got the kittle on. Any kyke? oym famished. Hahahahahahahahah!'
Babs won't do any ironing on account of her 'Athur-roytis. In fact, she does very little but at least she talks to Bill and is surprisingly knowledgeable about birds having once been a member of the Halesowen Racing Pigeon Club. Most of the time she eats Madeira Kyke, dropping crumbs and treading them into the carpet. LOTH now does more mousework than before she employed her.
Can cat's be driven up the wall? They certainly can? Can you hear her? She's on the balkon now talking to Bill.
'So this French boy said, Babs, he said, well actually 'e was from Walsall but let's not spoil it, Babs he said, yow is viry byowtiful cos yow 'ave got dents de lapin. How romintic! Dents de lapin is French for buck teeth. Not many people know that. Hahahahahahaha!
She'll have to go. I swear on my whiskers, she'll have to go!
Name day: today is:
Right indicator day -remember only to turn left today!
Second hand day (clocks not purchases) It's a bit confusing and we are hoping to get them both aligned but we're waiting until we move to the eight day week. Running a cat kingdom isn't as easy as it looks.
Yesterday's cat conundrum
Where is Babs from?
Answer Bydgoszcz - she just has a brummie accent because she lived there (unlucky- bit of a trick question)
Today's Cat Conundrum
What is Harvey's new catch phrase?
Added to this, LOTH is now an infamous author and has a circle of friends larger than the rings of Saturn so she had to place an ad in Gazeta Wyborcza. At first, she put it in the female seeking female section and got some rather strange and interesting replies but not really what she was looking for. It was more succesful in the Praca section.
Lady of the House seeks other lady to help with mousework, shopping, general doings and domestic repairs. (Man about the House hasn't got a clue!) Must be cat lover.
A number of Polish women phoned but who knows what they said? - Not LOTH, so she was limited to the one that spoke English although even that was dubious.
LOTH maybe needs some help with interviewing because Babs sort of employed herself.
The doorbell rang and Babs bounced in almost flattening LOTH. She wore a bright yellow floral dress which rather inflating her already ample wobbling bossoms and spare rubber ring stomach tyres.
'My name's Babs!' She announced enthusiastically and then rather cryptically, added,
'Ave yow got buck teeth?'
Lady of the House looked rather worried and bewildered.
'Hahaha!' Babs roared. 'No, yow 'aven't but oy 'ave!' More piercing laughter followed.
'I once met a French boy,' she continued, 'well actually, 'e was from Walsall but let's not spoil it and 'e said to me, Babs, yow is viry byowtiful 'cos yow 'ave got dents de lapin. Oooh ow romintic oy thought. Well this won't bath any babies, 'oy 'ope yow've got the kittle on. Any kyke? oym famished. Hahahahahahahahah!'
Babs won't do any ironing on account of her 'Athur-roytis. In fact, she does very little but at least she talks to Bill and is surprisingly knowledgeable about birds having once been a member of the Halesowen Racing Pigeon Club. Most of the time she eats Madeira Kyke, dropping crumbs and treading them into the carpet. LOTH now does more mousework than before she employed her.
Can cat's be driven up the wall? They certainly can? Can you hear her? She's on the balkon now talking to Bill.
'So this French boy said, Babs, he said, well actually 'e was from Walsall but let's not spoil it, Babs he said, yow is viry byowtiful cos yow 'ave got dents de lapin. How romintic! Dents de lapin is French for buck teeth. Not many people know that. Hahahahahahaha!
She'll have to go. I swear on my whiskers, she'll have to go!
Name day: today is:
Right indicator day -remember only to turn left today!
Second hand day (clocks not purchases) It's a bit confusing and we are hoping to get them both aligned but we're waiting until we move to the eight day week. Running a cat kingdom isn't as easy as it looks.
Yesterday's cat conundrum
Where is Babs from?
Answer Bydgoszcz - she just has a brummie accent because she lived there (unlucky- bit of a trick question)
Today's Cat Conundrum
What is Harvey's new catch phrase?
When you're not yourself, who are you?
He'd been acting strangely for a while. Lady of the House spotted it first when she said to Man about the House,
'Are you sure you're alright? You don't seem to be yourself lately. He just looked at her rather pityingly and replied,
'No matter, no matter colour; you will always be my brother.' He then slid open the cupboard doors and started playing his keyboard.
'You'll be late for work', she emplored. Man about the House was oblivious to the warning,. Holding down the rhythm button, he said, 'Everybody's got to live together. Why can't we live together?'
Lady of the House was exasperated. This nonsense had gone on long enough. There was only one thing to do. Call for an Emergency Psychiatrist! She marched down the stairs to the entrance hall, looked on the noticeboard and scanned the information. Administration, Taxis, Cable TV, Police, Fire, Ambulance - ah! Emergency Psychiatry. Two ads in fact but then it is Wola. She entered both numbers into her mobile and called the first.
'Hello? Is that Pani Wanda?
'Yeeees' - came a slow mystical voice.
'Are you an emergency psyciatrist?'
'Yeeees'
'It's my husband. He's gone Crackerdog. Doolally Dave, Barking, Nutty as a Fruitcake,'
'Indeed?'
'Can you come quickly?'
'Yeees.' She hung up.
Lady of the House went upsatiars to find a large, round woman waiting at the door.
'Can I help you?' Lady of the house asked.
'Yeees. Pani Wanda'.
She handed over her card which said Pani Wanda - Instant Emergency Psychiatry.
Well, she was certainly quick.
' We'd better go in.'
To Lady of the House's embarrassment, Man about the House was in the bathroom but with the door open. What little hair he had had been combed upwards in the style of boxing promoter Don King and he'd managed to cover most of his body in black shoe polish except for the middle of his back which was proving problematic. Lady of the House went to apologise but Pani Wanda, raised her hand.
'Say nothing.' she ordered. 'It's clear. The worst case of David Dickinsonitis I've ever seen. Keep him away from antiques and definitely no chips. He should be back to normal in a week. Here's my bill. '
Pani Wanda handed Lady of the House a small soft toy in the style of Postman Pat.
'His name's Bill. He likes racing pigeons and old motorbikes. Goodbye.'
Lady of the House is not pleased. Bill follows her around all day talking about Delbars whilst she's trying to get on with her mousework and Man about the House has shown no sign of improvement. Today in desperation (LOTH) (new exciting abbreviation) called the second emergency psychiatrist - Gordon Bennett who turned out to be Scottish. He was, as entered, midway through a conversation but with whom, I couldn't say.
'Aye. I just see Jeremy. My radiator went and I phoned Jeremy. Jeremy, I said, my radiator's gone -can you help me out? Ah ye can? I'll be right over. Aye. he'll sort me out, so he will.
Ah! Lady of the House, pleased to meet you. See, I've got a pen drive, my little stick, I call it. I've got thousands of patient records on there so I'll have no trouble sorting your old man out. Now, let the dog see the rabbit!
Reluctantly, LOTH opened the bedroom door. Math (second exciting abbreviation) was now completely black, shirt open to the waist, flared trousers and playing the keyboard.
'Very interesting', said Gordon Bennett. 'And what do you say he is being treated for? 'Dickinsonitis? That's terrible. A really bad misdiagnosis. Unplug his headphones so I can hear wat he's playing. 'Oh. A classic! Now I see it all. Mrs. Lady of the House, your husband's not himself but neither is he David Dickinson, he's Timmy Thomas.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ikrz4RFDhjA
You see, not many psychiatrists are trained in musical disorders of the early 1970's and the Pani Wanda's a bit of a cowboy. She's quick - I'll give her that, but stupid. I bet wwhen she gave you her Bill it was awee toy that talks about pigeons and get's under your feet when you're doing mousework? Aye - that's how stupid she is.
I'm afraid your husband's in quite a bad way. If only you'd called me earlier. Still don't despair after all we can always call Jeremy and in my little stick -I've a wee dose of modern music that might just wean him off the hard stuff.
http://www.myspace.com/thepigunit
Don't try to force it on him. Just play it whilst you're doing your mousework and see how he responds. Oh aye, and just to be on the safe side, I wouldn't buy any more shoe polish for a while.
Today is: Left indicator day
Angle Grinder Day (remember that's a half day for builders too!)
Last Cat Conundrum
Q. Who are you when you're not yourself?
A. Timmy Thomas.
Today's Cat Conundrum
Q. LOTH hires a cleaner, where is she from?
a) Bydgoszcz b) Bhagdad c) Birmingham d) Belize.
'Are you sure you're alright? You don't seem to be yourself lately. He just looked at her rather pityingly and replied,
'No matter, no matter colour; you will always be my brother.' He then slid open the cupboard doors and started playing his keyboard.
'You'll be late for work', she emplored. Man about the House was oblivious to the warning,. Holding down the rhythm button, he said, 'Everybody's got to live together. Why can't we live together?'
Lady of the House was exasperated. This nonsense had gone on long enough. There was only one thing to do. Call for an Emergency Psychiatrist! She marched down the stairs to the entrance hall, looked on the noticeboard and scanned the information. Administration, Taxis, Cable TV, Police, Fire, Ambulance - ah! Emergency Psychiatry. Two ads in fact but then it is Wola. She entered both numbers into her mobile and called the first.
'Hello? Is that Pani Wanda?
'Yeeees' - came a slow mystical voice.
'Are you an emergency psyciatrist?'
'Yeeees'
'It's my husband. He's gone Crackerdog. Doolally Dave, Barking, Nutty as a Fruitcake,'
'Indeed?'
'Can you come quickly?'
'Yeees.' She hung up.
Lady of the House went upsatiars to find a large, round woman waiting at the door.
'Can I help you?' Lady of the house asked.
'Yeees. Pani Wanda'.
She handed over her card which said Pani Wanda - Instant Emergency Psychiatry.
Well, she was certainly quick.
' We'd better go in.'
To Lady of the House's embarrassment, Man about the House was in the bathroom but with the door open. What little hair he had had been combed upwards in the style of boxing promoter Don King and he'd managed to cover most of his body in black shoe polish except for the middle of his back which was proving problematic. Lady of the House went to apologise but Pani Wanda, raised her hand.
'Say nothing.' she ordered. 'It's clear. The worst case of David Dickinsonitis I've ever seen. Keep him away from antiques and definitely no chips. He should be back to normal in a week. Here's my bill. '
Pani Wanda handed Lady of the House a small soft toy in the style of Postman Pat.
'His name's Bill. He likes racing pigeons and old motorbikes. Goodbye.'
Lady of the House is not pleased. Bill follows her around all day talking about Delbars whilst she's trying to get on with her mousework and Man about the House has shown no sign of improvement. Today in desperation (LOTH) (new exciting abbreviation) called the second emergency psychiatrist - Gordon Bennett who turned out to be Scottish. He was, as entered, midway through a conversation but with whom, I couldn't say.
'Aye. I just see Jeremy. My radiator went and I phoned Jeremy. Jeremy, I said, my radiator's gone -can you help me out? Ah ye can? I'll be right over. Aye. he'll sort me out, so he will.
Ah! Lady of the House, pleased to meet you. See, I've got a pen drive, my little stick, I call it. I've got thousands of patient records on there so I'll have no trouble sorting your old man out. Now, let the dog see the rabbit!
Reluctantly, LOTH opened the bedroom door. Math (second exciting abbreviation) was now completely black, shirt open to the waist, flared trousers and playing the keyboard.
'Very interesting', said Gordon Bennett. 'And what do you say he is being treated for? 'Dickinsonitis? That's terrible. A really bad misdiagnosis. Unplug his headphones so I can hear wat he's playing. 'Oh. A classic! Now I see it all. Mrs. Lady of the House, your husband's not himself but neither is he David Dickinson, he's Timmy Thomas.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ikrz4RFDhjA
You see, not many psychiatrists are trained in musical disorders of the early 1970's and the Pani Wanda's a bit of a cowboy. She's quick - I'll give her that, but stupid. I bet wwhen she gave you her Bill it was awee toy that talks about pigeons and get's under your feet when you're doing mousework? Aye - that's how stupid she is.
I'm afraid your husband's in quite a bad way. If only you'd called me earlier. Still don't despair after all we can always call Jeremy and in my little stick -I've a wee dose of modern music that might just wean him off the hard stuff.
http://www.myspace.com/thepigunit
Don't try to force it on him. Just play it whilst you're doing your mousework and see how he responds. Oh aye, and just to be on the safe side, I wouldn't buy any more shoe polish for a while.
Today is: Left indicator day
Angle Grinder Day (remember that's a half day for builders too!)
Last Cat Conundrum
Q. Who are you when you're not yourself?
A. Timmy Thomas.
Today's Cat Conundrum
Q. LOTH hires a cleaner, where is she from?
a) Bydgoszcz b) Bhagdad c) Birmingham d) Belize.
Serek's job hunt
Like many students in The Warsaw, Serek has been looking for a job in order to pay for his next term's study fees. Languidly leafing through the pages of Gazeta Wyborcza, he came across an ad that looked interesting.
Vacancy for Madman shouting from a fourth floor balcony
Central location, flexible hours and immediate start.
Well, you'd be a fool not to go for it and being smarter than the average woodencat, Serek applied.
He caught a 24 tram to Plac Zawiszy and then walked 100 metres along to where the flat was situated. He took the lift to the fifth floor and then walked down a flight - just in case an ambush had been planned. (that's how smart he is!)
He rang the bell of the apartment and an unshaven man with no shirt came to the door and beckoned him in.
'Please, make yourself at home. A lemon tea perhaps?'
Serek was puzzled and suspicious. 'I hope you don't mind me saying but you don't seem very mad - quite sane in fact.'
'What? Are you crazy!' The Madman snapped. 'Of course I'm not mad. It's just an act. I did it once for a joke and then for a while, I enjoyed it but I've been doing it for 20 years now and it's become a real burden. People congregate at the tram stop below; some shout back, some laugh, some look away in embarrassment but they've all come to expect it and I'm tired. My brother has a summer house up near the lakes and has invited me to stay. Maybe I won't come back at all - so I need a replacement. What do you say?'
Serek was cautious and gave a rather quizzical look like Ron Mael from Sparks and then declared:
'Serek: Second Officer; 4279!'
'Ah, you've a fine set of lungs but can you shout really loud, like 97 units of insanity? At rush hour, there's a lot of traffic and noise and there's no point being a madman shouting from the fourth floor of a balcony if no one can hear you.'
'Serek: Second Officer; 4279!'
(At this point, I should explain that Serek believes that he is a Polish pilot in the World War 2 RAF and is under interrogation - permanently. 303 Squadron of course!)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No._303_Polish_Fighter_Squadron
'Yes. It's a nice act but I'm still worried about the volume.'
'Serek: Second Officer; 4279!'
'OK, OK, you can have the job. Call by tomorrow morning. Right now I need to go. Tram Number 9's just pulled in and I always like to put on a good show for them.'
He got up and walked out onto the balcony.
'Vermin! Sod-beetles! Cattle knacker ear wipes. Going going gong bong Evonne Goolagong!'
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Evonne_Goolagong
He popped his head back through the door and said.
'Close the door on your way out. I'll call you next week.'
Serek returned, looking a little despondent.
'Well? How did it go?' I asked
He took a breathe and for a moment, I thought he was about to speak but then he just gave a rather quizzical look like Ron Mael from Sparks.
Today is: Handle Day and Peach Halves in Syrup Day.
Last blog's conundrum answer: 97 (If you answered sausage, you must really be mad - it's not even a number!)
Today's Woodencat Conundrum is:
When you're not yourself, who are you?
Vacancy for Madman shouting from a fourth floor balcony
Central location, flexible hours and immediate start.
Well, you'd be a fool not to go for it and being smarter than the average woodencat, Serek applied.
He caught a 24 tram to Plac Zawiszy and then walked 100 metres along to where the flat was situated. He took the lift to the fifth floor and then walked down a flight - just in case an ambush had been planned. (that's how smart he is!)
He rang the bell of the apartment and an unshaven man with no shirt came to the door and beckoned him in.
'Please, make yourself at home. A lemon tea perhaps?'
Serek was puzzled and suspicious. 'I hope you don't mind me saying but you don't seem very mad - quite sane in fact.'
'What? Are you crazy!' The Madman snapped. 'Of course I'm not mad. It's just an act. I did it once for a joke and then for a while, I enjoyed it but I've been doing it for 20 years now and it's become a real burden. People congregate at the tram stop below; some shout back, some laugh, some look away in embarrassment but they've all come to expect it and I'm tired. My brother has a summer house up near the lakes and has invited me to stay. Maybe I won't come back at all - so I need a replacement. What do you say?'
Serek was cautious and gave a rather quizzical look like Ron Mael from Sparks and then declared:
'Serek: Second Officer; 4279!'
'Ah, you've a fine set of lungs but can you shout really loud, like 97 units of insanity? At rush hour, there's a lot of traffic and noise and there's no point being a madman shouting from the fourth floor of a balcony if no one can hear you.'
'Serek: Second Officer; 4279!'
(At this point, I should explain that Serek believes that he is a Polish pilot in the World War 2 RAF and is under interrogation - permanently. 303 Squadron of course!)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No._303_Polish_Fighter_Squadron
'Yes. It's a nice act but I'm still worried about the volume.'
'Serek: Second Officer; 4279!'
'OK, OK, you can have the job. Call by tomorrow morning. Right now I need to go. Tram Number 9's just pulled in and I always like to put on a good show for them.'
He got up and walked out onto the balcony.
'Vermin! Sod-beetles! Cattle knacker ear wipes. Going going gong bong Evonne Goolagong!'
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Evonne_Goolagong
He popped his head back through the door and said.
'Close the door on your way out. I'll call you next week.'
Serek returned, looking a little despondent.
'Well? How did it go?' I asked
He took a breathe and for a moment, I thought he was about to speak but then he just gave a rather quizzical look like Ron Mael from Sparks.
Today is: Handle Day and Peach Halves in Syrup Day.
Last blog's conundrum answer: 97 (If you answered sausage, you must really be mad - it's not even a number!)
Today's Woodencat Conundrum is:
When you're not yourself, who are you?
Dorota's Charity
Dorota is an only cat. She was made in The Taiwan and then exported to The Poland where she sat in a window in a gift shop at Dom Towarowa Wola. Luckily, Lady of the House often passed this way and thought that she would make a nice Christmas present for Man about the House. So now she is an owned cat and her spirit has been liberated. Sadly, not all cats are so fortunate and that's why Dorota has founded a new charity.
For cats that haven't been thought of.
We just don't know how many cats haven't been thought of because nobody has ever thought about it but there must be thousands or at least six who don't yet exist because nobody ever thought of them. If you never think about them, they'll never know what a life they could have had because they won't have had the chance to think about it. Think about it!
I think you can see what a desperate situation it is and we haven't even got on to the cat biscuit famine in Tesco's. (In this case, it's best not to think about it)
You can help in three ways:
Think of a cat - any cat, any time, any place - that's Martini - and one will be liberated from purgatory.
If you see a woodencat, don't leave it melting its varnish in a shop window - give it a home.
Finally, send money. This is not for Dorota's charity but for me so that I can afford a pad on a 1 metre 43cm shelf and get that illusive Tigger Likes to Bounce Card.
Today is Mobile Phone Ring tone Day, Car Alarm Day and Badge with Ochrona Written on Day.
Also, as from today, I'm introducing a new exciting feature, the woodencat conundrum. This is a question, the answer of which will appear in the subsequent blog. You can guess the answer and check it in the following episode.
Today's Woodencat Conundrum:
How loud does a madman shout? (In units of insanity of course!)
As this is the first one, I'm going to make it really easy and give you a choice of three; is it?
a) 23 b) 97 c) sausage
For cats that haven't been thought of.
We just don't know how many cats haven't been thought of because nobody has ever thought about it but there must be thousands or at least six who don't yet exist because nobody ever thought of them. If you never think about them, they'll never know what a life they could have had because they won't have had the chance to think about it. Think about it!
I think you can see what a desperate situation it is and we haven't even got on to the cat biscuit famine in Tesco's. (In this case, it's best not to think about it)
You can help in three ways:
Think of a cat - any cat, any time, any place - that's Martini - and one will be liberated from purgatory.
If you see a woodencat, don't leave it melting its varnish in a shop window - give it a home.
Finally, send money. This is not for Dorota's charity but for me so that I can afford a pad on a 1 metre 43cm shelf and get that illusive Tigger Likes to Bounce Card.
Today is Mobile Phone Ring tone Day, Car Alarm Day and Badge with Ochrona Written on Day.
Also, as from today, I'm introducing a new exciting feature, the woodencat conundrum. This is a question, the answer of which will appear in the subsequent blog. You can guess the answer and check it in the following episode.
Today's Woodencat Conundrum:
How loud does a madman shout? (In units of insanity of course!)
As this is the first one, I'm going to make it really easy and give you a choice of three; is it?
a) 23 b) 97 c) sausage
Tigger likes to Bounce
Here in the Warsaw there are hundreds of banks. Thousands maybe. Possibly even three hundred billion, zillion, BobDylian but not one of them catering for woodencats. Luckily, we have a genius in our ranks.
Mog has created the first online bank exclusively for woodencats. It's called EMBANK. (Electronic Mog) and it has lots of funky new products and an introductory offer of a can of furniture polish that has certainly got me interested.
By far the most innovative product is the 'Tigger likes to bounce' card. It's a card for young, woodencats who say 'funky, yeah, afterka and Grrrr!' (I have advised against giving one to Harvey as he only counts to four and Barney because...... well, I don't need to explain)
The card has a perpetually rising credit limit which goes up and up until you just can't afford to pay it, at which point, you 'bounce' it! However, it was important to find out, just how high the Tigger likes to bounce card, should bounce.
We took the card and bounced it 473 times. It was difficult as the card is not very paw friendly. The average height of bounce was 1m. 43cm. I'm on a shelf 2 metres off the ground so I can't have one. It was disappointing and I phoned to complain. Unfortunately, as Mog is running the business single pawed, there is an answering machine saying:
'All of our Catorators are busy at the moment, SO GO SNIFF A DOG'S BUTT - LOSER!'
I was shocked and I will raise the matter at the next lesson.
The other problem is that despite thorough research on the money markets, (including Tubbytext) none of us can find any information on the centimetre to zloty exchange rate. Until then, all transactions are on hold.
Perhaps I'll invest in furniture polish.I believe reserves are running low and rising prices have already caused French cleaning ladies to burn their dusters. When I've cleaned up on the cleaning materials market, I'll get a better shelf; one the doesn't overlook the Skup. A shelf of 1m 43 - low enough for the Tigger likes to bounce card. 'Funky, Yeah!, Afterka, Grrrr!
Sorry - I forgot to mention. Today is Furniture Polish and Cat Litter Day.
Mog has created the first online bank exclusively for woodencats. It's called EMBANK. (Electronic Mog) and it has lots of funky new products and an introductory offer of a can of furniture polish that has certainly got me interested.
By far the most innovative product is the 'Tigger likes to bounce' card. It's a card for young, woodencats who say 'funky, yeah, afterka and Grrrr!' (I have advised against giving one to Harvey as he only counts to four and Barney because...... well, I don't need to explain)
The card has a perpetually rising credit limit which goes up and up until you just can't afford to pay it, at which point, you 'bounce' it! However, it was important to find out, just how high the Tigger likes to bounce card, should bounce.
We took the card and bounced it 473 times. It was difficult as the card is not very paw friendly. The average height of bounce was 1m. 43cm. I'm on a shelf 2 metres off the ground so I can't have one. It was disappointing and I phoned to complain. Unfortunately, as Mog is running the business single pawed, there is an answering machine saying:
'All of our Catorators are busy at the moment, SO GO SNIFF A DOG'S BUTT - LOSER!'
I was shocked and I will raise the matter at the next lesson.
The other problem is that despite thorough research on the money markets, (including Tubbytext) none of us can find any information on the centimetre to zloty exchange rate. Until then, all transactions are on hold.
Perhaps I'll invest in furniture polish.I believe reserves are running low and rising prices have already caused French cleaning ladies to burn their dusters. When I've cleaned up on the cleaning materials market, I'll get a better shelf; one the doesn't overlook the Skup. A shelf of 1m 43 - low enough for the Tigger likes to bounce card. 'Funky, Yeah!, Afterka, Grrrr!
Sorry - I forgot to mention. Today is Furniture Polish and Cat Litter Day.
Harvey's Song
Harvey has asked if I will publish his song on the blog. It goes like this:
I'm a very friendly cat called Harvey
And I've got a little friend called Barney
But he's nothing like Robert Mugabe
In fact, he's never even been to Zimbabwe
That's it. Only four lines but Harvey can only count to four and he thought he would forget anything more. It's not brilliant but you have to be encouraging and it's not so different from Dylan Thomas when you think about it; Under Milk Wood in particular, which featuring Captain Cat and Mog Edwards is naturally a big favourite in the Woodencat household.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Under_Milk_Wood
Today is Stale Cheese and Dog Blanket Day
I'm a very friendly cat called Harvey
And I've got a little friend called Barney
But he's nothing like Robert Mugabe
In fact, he's never even been to Zimbabwe
That's it. Only four lines but Harvey can only count to four and he thought he would forget anything more. It's not brilliant but you have to be encouraging and it's not so different from Dylan Thomas when you think about it; Under Milk Wood in particular, which featuring Captain Cat and Mog Edwards is naturally a big favourite in the Woodencat household.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Under_Milk_Wood
Today is Stale Cheese and Dog Blanket Day
Kelly Marie Spacedrum Syndrome
Well it's a bit of a mixed bag of news that I have for you today. Firstly, let me apologise for the fact that it's been so long since I last posted but the truth is that we've all been rather ill.
We've traced it back to the pizza delivery man on Tuesday. He was singing, 'It feels like I'm in love' as he rang the doorbell and there can be no doubt that we caught it off him. All of us have been suffering with a severe bout of Kelly Marie Spacedrum Syndrome and it's been hard to get any sense out of any wooden cat.
For example, I tried to run a class with K3 the other day on the subject of whether advances in science proved or disproved the existence of God.
'Ping-ping! Bing, bing!' came the universal reply.
Exasperated, I decided to try them on something simpler like Tubby collocations. They'd only got as far as Tubby toast and Tubby custard when to a cat, they all chorused,
'My heart beats like a drum. Bing-bing! Bong-bong!'
It was hopeless but it could have been worse I suppose. None of us have developed any symptoms of Crazy Frog complications that have proved to be fatal in cases where people have thrown themselves off balconies. Anyway, we're all recovering slowly. Ping.
On a brighter note, Barney has cleaned up his act but I'm still worried about his sanity. Now he says that he wants to be a monk and that it's just a matter of changing his habits. As a start, he's shaved a circle on the centre of his head. It's pretty bizarre I can tell you but at least he's back on milk so we have to be grateful for small mercies.
Finally, the French ladies have been on strike and are refusing even to gossip. When I asked them what it was about, they went berserk and tipped out all of the frozen fish from the freezer onto the floor, shouting,
'Peut-être maintenant, vous comprendrez!'
Frankly, I don't but then I don't speak French.
Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you that today is Trouser Day and Tin of Peas Day. I've started doubling up in order to get more things in. Soon, we'll all have to move to an eight day week.
All in all, it's been a funny old week but it's spring, the birds are singing, the sun is shinning, my head is in a spin, my feet don't touch the ground, because you're near to me, my head goes round and round. My knees are shaking baby; my heart it beats like a drum. (Ping-Ping! Bing-bing!)
It feels like; it feels like I'm in love.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9-HkQGvut8
We've traced it back to the pizza delivery man on Tuesday. He was singing, 'It feels like I'm in love' as he rang the doorbell and there can be no doubt that we caught it off him. All of us have been suffering with a severe bout of Kelly Marie Spacedrum Syndrome and it's been hard to get any sense out of any wooden cat.
For example, I tried to run a class with K3 the other day on the subject of whether advances in science proved or disproved the existence of God.
'Ping-ping! Bing, bing!' came the universal reply.
Exasperated, I decided to try them on something simpler like Tubby collocations. They'd only got as far as Tubby toast and Tubby custard when to a cat, they all chorused,
'My heart beats like a drum. Bing-bing! Bong-bong!'
It was hopeless but it could have been worse I suppose. None of us have developed any symptoms of Crazy Frog complications that have proved to be fatal in cases where people have thrown themselves off balconies. Anyway, we're all recovering slowly. Ping.
On a brighter note, Barney has cleaned up his act but I'm still worried about his sanity. Now he says that he wants to be a monk and that it's just a matter of changing his habits. As a start, he's shaved a circle on the centre of his head. It's pretty bizarre I can tell you but at least he's back on milk so we have to be grateful for small mercies.
Finally, the French ladies have been on strike and are refusing even to gossip. When I asked them what it was about, they went berserk and tipped out all of the frozen fish from the freezer onto the floor, shouting,
'Peut-être maintenant, vous comprendrez!'
Frankly, I don't but then I don't speak French.
Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you that today is Trouser Day and Tin of Peas Day. I've started doubling up in order to get more things in. Soon, we'll all have to move to an eight day week.
All in all, it's been a funny old week but it's spring, the birds are singing, the sun is shinning, my head is in a spin, my feet don't touch the ground, because you're near to me, my head goes round and round. My knees are shaking baby; my heart it beats like a drum. (Ping-Ping! Bing-bing!)
It feels like; it feels like I'm in love.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9-HkQGvut8
Hamster Day
Even those who didn't know about Television Day can't fail to have noticed that today is Hamster day. In fact, here in the Warsaw it always has been. Those little fur balls are the zeitgeist of our age. Who can forget the drama of THE GODHAMSTER or the immortal line, 'I've got a hamster and I'm not afraid to use it!'
Much vodka has been drunk and many a chomik toasted today not least by Barney who I have to tell you, has gone off the rails a bit lately.
It all started when Barney found a bag of discarded words on a local building site. They were quite rough and dirty but he thought that they might be worth something so he took them to the Skup. Well, of course, the Skup Baron was unimpressed saying that such words were commonplace and that their overuse had diminished their value.
Nevertheless, he exchanged them for a bottle of Spiritus that Barney shared with some bin cats. In return, a rather mangy, ginger tom called Wojtek, gave him some bright red headphones - no MP3 player, just headphones with a dangling cord. Barney wears them with pride. Personally, I think he looks ridiculous.
So now, he has become a full-time Skuper and he's been looking for rarer, more valuable words. Yesterday, he hit the jackpot. Inside a bin and underneath a pizza box, yogurt carton and empty jar of Bigos, he discovered a package marked 'Ken Dodd's chuckle muscles.' He didn't dare open it in broad daylight but instead, stealthily sneaked it back into a nearby shed. By the light of one of the candles from Television day, he unclipped the case and peered inside.
'Well pull my nose and call me a dog!' He exclaimed.
The container was stashed full of big, fat, delicious words the likes of which you'd never tasted. It was all he could do to prevent himself from devouring them there and then but he resisted and carefully pulled them out one by one sniffing each syllable and inhaling the intoxicating ink.
'Tickling stick'
'Doddy'
'Diddy Men'
'Tattifilarious'
and best of all,
'Discomknockeration'
He shoved them back into the box and rushed down to the Skup before it closed. At first, the Baron didn't believe that they were real words, not having come across them before and it was necessary to search Wikipedia to resolve the matter.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ken_Dodd
That done, Barney was rewarded handsomely with Spiritus, cat biscuits and Mouse stickers.
He's been quite drunk since and keeps falling out of trees. He staggers around with his headphones cocked at a cavalier angle, shouting, 'Spoko!' to passers by. When they ignore him, he becomes belligerent and calls out, 'I've got a Hamster and I'm not afraid to use it!'
I'll be glad when Hamster day's over.
Much vodka has been drunk and many a chomik toasted today not least by Barney who I have to tell you, has gone off the rails a bit lately.
It all started when Barney found a bag of discarded words on a local building site. They were quite rough and dirty but he thought that they might be worth something so he took them to the Skup. Well, of course, the Skup Baron was unimpressed saying that such words were commonplace and that their overuse had diminished their value.
Nevertheless, he exchanged them for a bottle of Spiritus that Barney shared with some bin cats. In return, a rather mangy, ginger tom called Wojtek, gave him some bright red headphones - no MP3 player, just headphones with a dangling cord. Barney wears them with pride. Personally, I think he looks ridiculous.
So now, he has become a full-time Skuper and he's been looking for rarer, more valuable words. Yesterday, he hit the jackpot. Inside a bin and underneath a pizza box, yogurt carton and empty jar of Bigos, he discovered a package marked 'Ken Dodd's chuckle muscles.' He didn't dare open it in broad daylight but instead, stealthily sneaked it back into a nearby shed. By the light of one of the candles from Television day, he unclipped the case and peered inside.
'Well pull my nose and call me a dog!' He exclaimed.
The container was stashed full of big, fat, delicious words the likes of which you'd never tasted. It was all he could do to prevent himself from devouring them there and then but he resisted and carefully pulled them out one by one sniffing each syllable and inhaling the intoxicating ink.
'Tickling stick'
'Doddy'
'Diddy Men'
'Tattifilarious'
and best of all,
'Discomknockeration'
He shoved them back into the box and rushed down to the Skup before it closed. At first, the Baron didn't believe that they were real words, not having come across them before and it was necessary to search Wikipedia to resolve the matter.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ken_Dodd
That done, Barney was rewarded handsomely with Spiritus, cat biscuits and Mouse stickers.
He's been quite drunk since and keeps falling out of trees. He staggers around with his headphones cocked at a cavalier angle, shouting, 'Spoko!' to passers by. When they ignore him, he becomes belligerent and calls out, 'I've got a Hamster and I'm not afraid to use it!'
I'll be glad when Hamster day's over.
Television Day
Today is Television Day. We got a bowl of water, sprinkled some rose petals on the surface and lit some floating scented candles. Mog and Dorota wrapped the TV casing in tinsel and the French ladies made a tarte au pommes.
Sadly, Television said nothing. In fact, he didn't seem at all switched on today. He's very obedient and only really listens to Man about the House who asks for Euronews and Love Boat. Lady of the House doesn't talk to him as he doesn't speak English.
Tout a la Mer is a lighthouse that lives 30cms away from me and it was his idea. To be honest, I didn't realise he could talk but he's made of wood so I suppose it makes sense. Here in the Warsaw, there is a strange habit of naming days after people. So if your name is Magda or Piotr you have a name day, sometimes more than one; even teachers have name days but I'm not sure about vets.
Tout a la Mer said that it was typically egotistical of humans to assume that only they should have name days and that anything with a soul should have one. A committee was formed to decide who should have name days but after much noisy debate, the Meowists convinced us that this was reactionary and all objects animate or otherwise should have their day.
So now I am drawing up a list. It's a very long list with at least four things on so far. Today is Television Day.
Sadly, Television said nothing. In fact, he didn't seem at all switched on today. He's very obedient and only really listens to Man about the House who asks for Euronews and Love Boat. Lady of the House doesn't talk to him as he doesn't speak English.
Tout a la Mer is a lighthouse that lives 30cms away from me and it was his idea. To be honest, I didn't realise he could talk but he's made of wood so I suppose it makes sense. Here in the Warsaw, there is a strange habit of naming days after people. So if your name is Magda or Piotr you have a name day, sometimes more than one; even teachers have name days but I'm not sure about vets.
Tout a la Mer said that it was typically egotistical of humans to assume that only they should have name days and that anything with a soul should have one. A committee was formed to decide who should have name days but after much noisy debate, the Meowists convinced us that this was reactionary and all objects animate or otherwise should have their day.
So now I am drawing up a list. It's a very long list with at least four things on so far. Today is Television Day.
The Karaoke Party
Last night, Man about the house and Lady of the house went out. Mimi suggested that we have a karaoke party as she still had the equipment left over from the Commotion Club from the time that we lived in Portugal.
I thought that it was a bit risky but Harvey said that he would sit on the window-ledge and look out for the return of the humans.
We all agreed that each of us could choose some of our favourite music but this proved to be rather controversial!
I started off with 'Son of my father' by Chicory Tip which went down very well. Fifi, exclaimed, 'Sacre bleu Monsieur. L'homme avez un grand mullet!'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rowbf-0tCcA
So it was all going swimmingly when Kiki put on 'Non, je ne regrette rien.' Serek went completely catalistic, hissing that he wasn't going to listen to that bloody (excuse my French) Edith Piaf gargle her way through the French resistance song book all night. See what you think.
I thought that it was a bit risky but Harvey said that he would sit on the window-ledge and look out for the return of the humans.
We all agreed that each of us could choose some of our favourite music but this proved to be rather controversial!
I started off with 'Son of my father' by Chicory Tip which went down very well. Fifi, exclaimed, 'Sacre bleu Monsieur. L'homme avez un grand mullet!'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YnTse_Hoa10
'Oui - c'est vrai!'
'Incroyable! Manifique!' responded the other French minxes.
Mog selected Runaway Boys by The Stray Cats which was an excellent choice. Wow, that cat's fur's amazing!http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rowbf-0tCcA
So it was all going swimmingly when Kiki put on 'Non, je ne regrette rien.' Serek went completely catalistic, hissing that he wasn't going to listen to that bloody (excuse my French) Edith Piaf gargle her way through the French resistance song book all night. See what you think.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFRuLFR91e4
Well, I have to tell you that things turned rather ugly and there was a bit of a cat fight between Kiki and Serek. If wooden cats had fur, they'd both be as bald as coots by now but luckily, there was only minor paint damage.
Eventually, a compromise was reached when we agreed that Edith Piaf was out but a little Charles Aznavour (in moderation) would be acceptable.
We rounded off the evening friends and in high spirits as we all joined in to 'Tiger Feet' by Mud.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z7tpz3NAr6k
We have a small shrine dedicated to Les Gray - the singer from Mud. He often used to come into The Cataleiro Restaurant where we worked, with Noddy Holder from Slade. As I recall, they were both partial to steak and kidney pudding.
God bless you Les. It'll be lonely this Christmas without you.
Finally, we are building up our collection of cat music. If you have any suggested additions, let me know.
Here is the list so far:
Catatonia Road Rage
Cat Stevens Mathew and son
Stray Cats Runaway Boys
Ertha Kitt Old Fashioned Girl
Mud Tiger Feet
Mud The cat crept in
Squeeze Cool for cats
Tom Jones What's new pussycat?
Meow's apartment
Meow has his own apartment but it's very small. In fact, it's so small that if you are not careful, you will be outside again before you've gone in. It looks smaller than it is and in reality it actually is smaller than it is, which is very small indeed.
Meow has made a number of space saving adaptations. His best idea was the One Sock Washer. This is a miniaturised washing machine that is just large enough to wash one sock at a time. However, as cats have four paws, that's four days to wash a complete set. Being a very clean cat, he has two sets of socks but this means that he has had to move to an eight day week.
He calls the eighth day Rondo ONZ which is fair enough but now his other days are out of sync. with those of us operating on a seven day week. It makes arrangements very difficult as we have to clarify, for example, whose Tuesday we mean.
Meow's worst idea was the Space Saving Bowl. I don't think he gave it enough thought. He simply cut his bowl in half which saved half the space but lost all of the milk. Of course, you could lick it off the floor but he's not a bin cat. Now he uses an egg cup and a straw which I think is an improvement and saves on milk, particularly as he is yet to master the technique.
Meow has made a number of space saving adaptations. His best idea was the One Sock Washer. This is a miniaturised washing machine that is just large enough to wash one sock at a time. However, as cats have four paws, that's four days to wash a complete set. Being a very clean cat, he has two sets of socks but this means that he has had to move to an eight day week.
He calls the eighth day Rondo ONZ which is fair enough but now his other days are out of sync. with those of us operating on a seven day week. It makes arrangements very difficult as we have to clarify, for example, whose Tuesday we mean.
Meow's worst idea was the Space Saving Bowl. I don't think he gave it enough thought. He simply cut his bowl in half which saved half the space but lost all of the milk. Of course, you could lick it off the floor but he's not a bin cat. Now he uses an egg cup and a straw which I think is an improvement and saves on milk, particularly as he is yet to master the technique.
Welcome to my world
Hello. My name's Bob and I'm a wooden cat. Blogging isn't really my bowl of milk but lately, I've had a lot of time on my paws and I'm still only on my first life.
I live in the Warsaw, which is in Poland, half way between Catalunya and Katmandu. I have a vantage point on a high shelf from where I can see outside and down to the Skup.
Skup monsters run on alcohol and the area is awash with them. Each day, a tide of them drift in, picking over the rubbish and collecting bags full of beer cans to be taken to the skup and converted into more beer. It's called recycling.
In our apartment, there are other wooden cats; Mimi, Fifi and Kiki are three French cats who sit on a green floral sofa gossiping and giggling. They are very pretentious and will only speak french - Parisian at that.
Then there's Dorota, a Polish Siamese who is rather over-decorated and wears too much make up for any self-respecting wooden cat (cheap perfume too). Quite different from K3. That's Meow, Mog and Serek, a group of intellectuals that I have been teaching Catalan to at the University of Koreki. In fact, most of the time we never start the lesson but discuss notions, potions and pussy cat lotions.
There is also a black furry, moving animal here. Too big for a hamster but smaller than a horse. It's name is Harvey and he could be a cat but the lady of the house refers to him as 'the rodent', which is about the most insulting thing that you can say to a cat. He has an imaginary friend called Barney who, he asures me is nothing like Robert Mugabe and has never even been to Zimbabwe but apparently, smokes, swears and has many nights on the tiles.
I have to go now as the Man about the house has just come in and if he knows I'm writing a blog, he will be jealous.
I live in the Warsaw, which is in Poland, half way between Catalunya and Katmandu. I have a vantage point on a high shelf from where I can see outside and down to the Skup.
Skup monsters run on alcohol and the area is awash with them. Each day, a tide of them drift in, picking over the rubbish and collecting bags full of beer cans to be taken to the skup and converted into more beer. It's called recycling.
In our apartment, there are other wooden cats; Mimi, Fifi and Kiki are three French cats who sit on a green floral sofa gossiping and giggling. They are very pretentious and will only speak french - Parisian at that.
Then there's Dorota, a Polish Siamese who is rather over-decorated and wears too much make up for any self-respecting wooden cat (cheap perfume too). Quite different from K3. That's Meow, Mog and Serek, a group of intellectuals that I have been teaching Catalan to at the University of Koreki. In fact, most of the time we never start the lesson but discuss notions, potions and pussy cat lotions.
There is also a black furry, moving animal here. Too big for a hamster but smaller than a horse. It's name is Harvey and he could be a cat but the lady of the house refers to him as 'the rodent', which is about the most insulting thing that you can say to a cat. He has an imaginary friend called Barney who, he asures me is nothing like Robert Mugabe and has never even been to Zimbabwe but apparently, smokes, swears and has many nights on the tiles.
I have to go now as the Man about the house has just come in and if he knows I'm writing a blog, he will be jealous.