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
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.