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
Barney goes Doolally Dave
Barney’s gone Doolally Dave again - not that he was ever compos mentis in the first place. He discovered that he’d missed St. Patrick’s day - by a month to be precise. Undeterred, he toddled off to Jimmy Bradley’s and got somewhat lubricated on Guinesss. Drunk as a lord, he staggered home and fell into to a hole in Mlynarska, where they are relaying the tramline.
He would have been buried alive if he hadn’t been rescued by a passing, travelling Pork Pie seller from Wigan. Not satisfied with his good fortune, he tried to half inch some of the tram track and sell it down at the Scup. Well it wasn’t long before the Cat Police were on to him.
Now he’s on the run and disguised as George Melly in a ridiculous outfit that only draws attention in my opinion.
Non Wooden Cats have no sense at all unlike us solid Wooden Cats who have woody minds full of wisdom built on years of Oak, Pine and Elder. Some days, I wish I was a tree - a lovely big tree with branches swaying in the wind, leaves shimmering and birds tickling me with their feathers.
It’s obvious to see how Doolally Dave Barney is in comparison.
Name day
Empty crisp packet
Broken biscuits
Clicking your pen in an irritating way
The identity crunch
No doubt you’ve heard about the worldwide identity crunch and how it’s finally hit the Warsaw. Sadly, I have to report that we too, have been affected.
As you know, it all started last year in Bognor Regis when unscrupulous identity sharks started giving away identities to any Tomcat, Dick or Harold Robins with absolutely no collateral such as loud noises or Tommy Cooper impersonations.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2e9mIj32Bgs&feature=related
They then sold on the risk to make-up farmers in Venezuela who tried to hide the extent of the identity debt with extra lippy and blusher. By the time that it was revealed that Kylie Minogue was actually Rolf Harris, all confidence was lost me kangaroo down sport.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_D-LmRNdQiQ
Our own crisis started when Catko’s at Dave Totoloto Wola ran out of cat litter. Lady of the house bought straw as a substitute. After playing with it and then eating a bit, Harvey started hopping around, shouting, ‘where’s dat wabbit?’ But it didn’t stop there - oh no. Thurber announced that he is in fact a repressed cat and now he feels comfortable enough with himself to release the ‘inner cat.’ Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, woof, that’s what I say.
There’s worse still. Even my own family has been affected. By brother thinks he’s a chicken. We’d tell him he isn’t but we need the eggs.
Sleep if you dare and wait for Dawn’s knock three times on the ceiling if you love me; twice on the pipe; means you ain’t gonna show.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LmBzqQPTGs
Name day
Horizontal lines
Choking
As you know, it all started last year in Bognor Regis when unscrupulous identity sharks started giving away identities to any Tomcat, Dick or Harold Robins with absolutely no collateral such as loud noises or Tommy Cooper impersonations.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2e9mIj32Bgs&feature=related
They then sold on the risk to make-up farmers in Venezuela who tried to hide the extent of the identity debt with extra lippy and blusher. By the time that it was revealed that Kylie Minogue was actually Rolf Harris, all confidence was lost me kangaroo down sport.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_D-LmRNdQiQ
Our own crisis started when Catko’s at Dave Totoloto Wola ran out of cat litter. Lady of the house bought straw as a substitute. After playing with it and then eating a bit, Harvey started hopping around, shouting, ‘where’s dat wabbit?’ But it didn’t stop there - oh no. Thurber announced that he is in fact a repressed cat and now he feels comfortable enough with himself to release the ‘inner cat.’ Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, woof, that’s what I say.There’s worse still. Even my own family has been affected. By brother thinks he’s a chicken. We’d tell him he isn’t but we need the eggs.
Sleep if you dare and wait for Dawn’s knock three times on the ceiling if you love me; twice on the pipe; means you ain’t gonna show.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LmBzqQPTGs
Name day
Horizontal lines
Choking
Bartek's tail
Luckily, after a few hot numbers on the radio, the glue melted and we were able to return to our shelves. It’s a good time to tell you a bit more about Bartek who arrived while we had been abducted. I didn’t realise at first on account of his modestly but he is in fact ‘the’ Bartek of Zakopane! Yes, that’s right, the famous wooden cat ski jumper. Being brought up in the meowntains, it came catrally to him. Many a time we have watched in awe as he jumped prodigious distances to out leap his arch rival, Adam Meowisz. Although in the last Wooden Olymipicats, he only beat him by a whisker, this secured his financial future and he was able to retire comfortably.
As you might expect, it had always been his dream to escape the meowntains and leave that ugly environment full of hills, trees and babbling brooks in favour of the squalor of Wola. Well, like most cats, he’s landed on his feet and acquired an apartment with a Skup view. He’s taken a photo from his window, from were he enjoys panoramic views of the litter and Skup below. How I envy him! This is the same area that Harvey has to watch for naughty cats and inform the cat police, so there is activity as well as beauty.
Seeing as he is such a star, we’ve allowed him to choose the music this week. It’s his favourite - Cat out of Hell by Milk loaf.
Looking at the view whilst listen to the track is as good as it gets - some cats have all the luck. Goodnight.
Name day
Ouch, couch and slouch
Better get slouching!
Radio Daft
Here in the Warsaw we’ve been busy this week catching up on all the cat news. Marek has discovered a new radio station and we’ve been glued to the radio all week. This was an accident, as a tin of glue spilt over as we were turning it on and in fact we couldn’t change the station now if we wanted to. Luckily it’s a great channel.
Radio Daft! Broadcasting to Daft as a brush, Daft on the hill, daft on the wold, daft on a stick and Wola. They have a lot of interviews with feline celebrities - not just alley cat gossip but high whiskered programmes too. For example, only yesterday there was an interview with the famous scientist Albert Catsteine who explained that the amount of biscuits you get is relative to the proportion of cat meat in the bowl. Then we were treated to a reading by the Catalan surrealist poet Meow Rodriguez.
Your ears are like milk
Tram 24
All blue
All gone
Like milk
And slowly my piano drowns
Like herrings in milk
To be honest, it’s so intellectual I don’t understand it. Thank God then for Tom Cat Jones. They play his record every hour. Give it a go. Tune into Radio Daft but watch out for glue pots, jam jars, honey, treacle and bogus milk salesmen disguised as herrings.
Name day
Relativity (relatively speaking - I mean it depends what you compare it to and what exactly is a day, or speaking, for that matter)
Toast - hurray, a nice simple one!
Abducted by aliens again! - Can the cat police save us?
Abducted by aliens again - can you believe it? Twice in the space of a few months. That’s a worry because clearly the part of outer space called ‘A few months’ is a risky place to be. I had a word with Man about the house but he couldn’t give a monkey’s. All he wants to do these days is teach Harvey to be a circus cat - personally, I think it’s rather degrading.He’s devised a number of games such as ‘Rolly polly puss’ which seems to involve a lot of tummy and foot tickling - Yuk! Then we have the futile activity called, ‘Where’s that cat?’ Man about the house puts a jumper over him and asks, ‘where’s that cat? Pretty bloody obvious I’d say.’ He’s barking and it’s no co-incidence that insanity is connected to dogs - ‘Mad dogs and Englishmen’ for example.
Lady of the house has also lost the plot. On our return from ‘the space of a few months’ we discovered she had allowed in an intruder - not a wooden cat but a wooden dog - frankly, I didn’t think such a thing existed. He’s called Thurber and he sits on the window ledge next to another new arrival called Bartek from Zakopane. That’s his whole name. At least he’s a cat. The ledge is overcrowded and is almost a slum dwelling now. Harvey has a large wooden box there full of drobne which he guards fiercely but also Man about the house has given him an extra responsibility. This is an evening job in which he has to watch the garden below for signs of naughty cats - if there’s any sign of a kafuffle, he has to call the Cat Police immediately. It’s as well that he has never done it as Barney would be in clink most nights.
Well it’s a nice clear night to look out for naughty cats and I can even see some stars - or is that a spaceship? If it carries on, I will relocate to a space of a few years - I’ve heard it’s much safer there.
Name day - the sound, ‘twang’
Muchy na Riby
Fabric Conditioner
(Barney’s sure to get drunk with so many celebrations on one day!)
Independence day
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
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