Warren was watching one of his programs on Cbeebies the other day and they were going on about dragons. At the end of the program, they made sure to point out that dragons don’t really exist. It got me wondering. I think I have a closeted obsession with dragons. I have a big dragon tattoo on my back, I love films that have anything to do with dragons, I love looking at pictures of dragons. I wouldn’t call myself a fantasy fanatic, as in, into Dungeons and Dragons, Magic, Star Trek, etc. But I do have a penchant for the ol’ fantasy. I’m quite obsessed with the Harry Potter films and the Lord of the Ring films. I don’t go to conventions or anything and I most certainly don’t dress in Hogwarts school attire or as a hobbit. But, I do quite like the films, I’ve seen them all more than three times anyway.
What I was really pondering though, was if dragons really existed or not. I’d like to believe that they did. They want us to buy the ‘fact’ that massive lizard-like creatures ( or bird-like if you believe ‘Jurassic Park’ films) existed and roamed the earth. Big old lizards with massive teeth, huge muscular legs and teeny tiny little arms, ruled the roost. Yet, massive lizards that could fly and breathed fire, didn’t. Where’s the sense in that? Oh, I know, I know, they have found fossils of the dinosaurs and have never found fossils of dragons. I reckon, dragon’s fire breathing ability was also their downfall. I reckon that they never find dragon fossils because they all spontaneously combusted! How can they ever find fossils of creatures that spontaneously combusted? Seriously, at the end of the day, if you have the capability to produce and breath fire… It’s going to come back to bite you in the ass some day. They had to reach maturity before they got their fire, so they did have a short window to reproduce. Eventually, they just ceased to exist. How sad, I’d love to have a loyal pet dragon…. I’d call it Shishkebab. Mind you, I already had a semi pet hedgehog living in my garden that I called Shishkebab, but I’d recycle the name because I love it that much.. I just rolls off the tongue.
Another thing I’ve been pondering lately… They’ve been showing a lot of reruns of the Wonder Years on telly here. The Wonder Years really takes me back. I think the Wonder Years was like the soap opera of every child and teenager growing up during it’s airing. I remember how lovely Nikki Blick, a girl I went to school with, was constantly told, ’You look just like that Winnie Cooper on the Wonder Years!’ Now, I know that was a compliment in it’s own way, but poor Nikki Blick must have got sick of it! Nikki Blick and Derek Dummermuth… They were the Winnie and Kevin of our elementary school. Anyway, the Wonder Years was like a bible to every pre-pubescent youth that watched it! We looked up to that show, we watched it to guide us in current or future situations and encounters. The Wonder Years had all the answers!
Life just never pans out like fantasy does. We’ll never find that perfect, loyal, flying, fire breathing massive lizard, just waiting to be tamed, as our pet.. And we’ll never find our Kevin Arnold to our Winnie Cooper, perfectly flawed as they might have been. I can hope that the younger generations dare to believe in their own pet Shishkebab’s and that they catch reruns of the Wonder Years. Maybe they’ll hang on to that hope. It’s like a band that I absolutely hate once said, ‘Don’t stop believing, hold onto that feeling.’
Did you picture two lesbians roller skating when you read that? One being a battle axe looking prostitute serial killer? Ah, you watch too many fantasy movies!
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Imagine
When I was a kid, I had a pair of red star shaped earrings. When times were particularly hard, I used to press on my earrings and call for Synergy (as in Jem and the Holograms) to come and save me. She never came to help me... bitch! Just a sidenote here, I blame Jem and the Holograms for the popularity of the name Kimber at some point in time in the 80's. It's just obviously one of those silly made up names that caught on. No offense to any Kimber's out there, only your parents.
Just the same as I used to press on my red star shaped earrings as hard as I could when times were bad; I used to take one of my books out into bushes beside my house and type as hard as I could on it pretending it was like Penny's computer book in Inspector Gadget. It never happened either, but it never stopped me from still trying and believing in it. I figured if I just kept trying, one day, Synergy would come save me or my book would finally turn into a computer like Penny's.
Thing is, when did we stop imagining and pretending like we did as kids? When did we stop believing? I love to live in my imagination now and I don't ever want to wake up because I don't want to stop dreaming. My dreams are so much better than the reality of bills, bills and more bills... and I have some pretty bad nightmares sometimes! If someone told me then that becoming an adult meant that you stopped imagining and pretending, I would have refused to grow up!
What made me start remembering and pondering all of these things is the shows Warren watches. Warren loves watching telly. I've made decisions as to what I think is and isn't alright for him to watch. He watches Playhouse Disney for the most part. I like the shows on Playhouse Disney because they encourage kids to use their imagination, teach them problem solving and teach them moral lessons. Warren also loves to watch Spongebob Squarepants. While Spongebob may not possess the qualities of the other shows on Playhouse Disney, it definitely has imagination, but lacks in consistency. But it doesn't matter because I love Spongebob as well. As much as I believe in using your imagination, there is this little girl in Higgley Town Heroes that annoys me! She always uses her imagination to come up with these outlandish solutions to problems and when she's told it won't work for whatever reason, she always says, 'Aw pickles.' God she annoys me, but Higgley Town Heroes in general annoys me, I can't stand that show! I digress...
I envy Warren and his childhood. His days of pretending and using his imagination ahead of him. I wish I could be on the same level as him. Although, I suppose there has to be that parent child boundary for obvious reasons. I just hope I'll be able to get on the same level as him to play with him. I'm refraining from saying, 'DOWN' on his level, because I don't think children are below us. I think they all have the upperhand. We should all be more like children. Then again, there's always that immature guy we all know that pretends he can get girls and imagines the day that he'll move out of his parents house... when he's 35! Maybe those immature guys hold the key to our future. Then again, maybe they just hold the key to their mom's minivan and go cruising for girls in it to bring them back to 'their' place, while their parents are on vacation!
Michael Jackson had the right idea, 'I believe that children are our future, let them laugh and let them lead the way'. He believed that so much that he put it to verse and had a hit with it. Or maybe he didn't, maybe someone else wrote it, who knows? Anyway, I don't know what was going through Jacko's head when singing that, but it's not a bad idea. Let children be our future, let them lead the way, let the children lead the world. The adults have had their chance and look how bad they've messed it up! I think the voting age should be lowered to 10 (but not the drinking age, that would be a bad idea). Just think, a 10 year old, all that newly acquired knowledge from school would be fresh in their heads. Their brains would be like sponges just waiting to soak up all kinds of new information. They'd be smarter than us! And, they'd know how to spell potato! No E! Just think of how wars would be fought if the world was ruled by 10 year olds? All we would need is a big cafeteria or alley as a war venue and make sure to have the school nurse at hand! Then again, everyone will be wanting to vote for their child, grandchild, niece, nephew, etc. I'm sure we could figure out a way around that.
Regardless, I'm nominating my niece Adena for president. She's a better candidate then any of them out there! She has a great imagination, and she'd rule with an iron fist and boss everyone around. She might even throw in some potty mouthed fighting words! Adena for president!
In summary, here are some words to live by, and I quote: I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys R Us kid, there's a million toys at Toys R Us that I can play with, from bikes to trains to video games, the biggest toy store there is, I don't wanna grow up, cause if I did, I couldn't be a Toys R Us kid.
I knew that by heart, I didn't even have to look it up! Sad, you say? I don't think so. Unfortunately, we were too poor to shop at Toys R Us when I was a kid.... That's where my vivid imagination came in.
Just the same as I used to press on my red star shaped earrings as hard as I could when times were bad; I used to take one of my books out into bushes beside my house and type as hard as I could on it pretending it was like Penny's computer book in Inspector Gadget. It never happened either, but it never stopped me from still trying and believing in it. I figured if I just kept trying, one day, Synergy would come save me or my book would finally turn into a computer like Penny's.
Thing is, when did we stop imagining and pretending like we did as kids? When did we stop believing? I love to live in my imagination now and I don't ever want to wake up because I don't want to stop dreaming. My dreams are so much better than the reality of bills, bills and more bills... and I have some pretty bad nightmares sometimes! If someone told me then that becoming an adult meant that you stopped imagining and pretending, I would have refused to grow up!
What made me start remembering and pondering all of these things is the shows Warren watches. Warren loves watching telly. I've made decisions as to what I think is and isn't alright for him to watch. He watches Playhouse Disney for the most part. I like the shows on Playhouse Disney because they encourage kids to use their imagination, teach them problem solving and teach them moral lessons. Warren also loves to watch Spongebob Squarepants. While Spongebob may not possess the qualities of the other shows on Playhouse Disney, it definitely has imagination, but lacks in consistency. But it doesn't matter because I love Spongebob as well. As much as I believe in using your imagination, there is this little girl in Higgley Town Heroes that annoys me! She always uses her imagination to come up with these outlandish solutions to problems and when she's told it won't work for whatever reason, she always says, 'Aw pickles.' God she annoys me, but Higgley Town Heroes in general annoys me, I can't stand that show! I digress...
I envy Warren and his childhood. His days of pretending and using his imagination ahead of him. I wish I could be on the same level as him. Although, I suppose there has to be that parent child boundary for obvious reasons. I just hope I'll be able to get on the same level as him to play with him. I'm refraining from saying, 'DOWN' on his level, because I don't think children are below us. I think they all have the upperhand. We should all be more like children. Then again, there's always that immature guy we all know that pretends he can get girls and imagines the day that he'll move out of his parents house... when he's 35! Maybe those immature guys hold the key to our future. Then again, maybe they just hold the key to their mom's minivan and go cruising for girls in it to bring them back to 'their' place, while their parents are on vacation!
Michael Jackson had the right idea, 'I believe that children are our future, let them laugh and let them lead the way'. He believed that so much that he put it to verse and had a hit with it. Or maybe he didn't, maybe someone else wrote it, who knows? Anyway, I don't know what was going through Jacko's head when singing that, but it's not a bad idea. Let children be our future, let them lead the way, let the children lead the world. The adults have had their chance and look how bad they've messed it up! I think the voting age should be lowered to 10 (but not the drinking age, that would be a bad idea). Just think, a 10 year old, all that newly acquired knowledge from school would be fresh in their heads. Their brains would be like sponges just waiting to soak up all kinds of new information. They'd be smarter than us! And, they'd know how to spell potato! No E! Just think of how wars would be fought if the world was ruled by 10 year olds? All we would need is a big cafeteria or alley as a war venue and make sure to have the school nurse at hand! Then again, everyone will be wanting to vote for their child, grandchild, niece, nephew, etc. I'm sure we could figure out a way around that.
Regardless, I'm nominating my niece Adena for president. She's a better candidate then any of them out there! She has a great imagination, and she'd rule with an iron fist and boss everyone around. She might even throw in some potty mouthed fighting words! Adena for president!
In summary, here are some words to live by, and I quote: I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys R Us kid, there's a million toys at Toys R Us that I can play with, from bikes to trains to video games, the biggest toy store there is, I don't wanna grow up, cause if I did, I couldn't be a Toys R Us kid.
I knew that by heart, I didn't even have to look it up! Sad, you say? I don't think so. Unfortunately, we were too poor to shop at Toys R Us when I was a kid.... That's where my vivid imagination came in.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Big Hair
Big Hair Current mood: crazy Category: Blogging
I used to have big hair. Well, big, frizzy, disgusting hair. But, big none the less. The big hair motto: The bigger the bangs the better. I went through so much environmentally unfriendly hairspray like water. The hairspray of choice: Aquanet. Dear God did that stuff stink too! With big ol' hair, you could only pray that it didn't rain. If your hairspray saturated bangs got wet, not only did they flatten, but they were reduced to this sticky, glue like substance. When you raked the brush through this sticky mess, you came out with gobs of sticky, white goo… white flakes when it dried. Then you could only start the whole merciless, curling, teasing and spraying process all over again.
My 6th grade teacher told me that I pulled out valuable brain cells when I did my hair.
I loved the 80's, I loved my youth. But the 80's style is one I never wanted to see return. Even more than the 80's style, the early 90's style is one I hope I never see again! Yet some people are just trapped in an era. I went to college, yes college, with this girl that was permanently stuck in the late 80's early 90's. She would come to class in her stone washed denim jeans with her matching stone washed denim jacket, complete with the pink lace filled cutouts. She even wore those terrible scrunchy socks and those witchlike looking, flat, pointy shoes. Her clothes weren't retro either, nuh uh, she was wearing vintage baby! You could tell she clung desperately to that era, the same as she clung to the clothes that she never bothered to throw out… even into the new millennium.
I see the young girls at the pubs on a Sat. night here. Sadly, they are trying to revive what is long dead. They think they are so cool and that their ensemble is complete when they find the big, dangly, electric blue earrings to match their electric blue top and electric blue high heels. All to compliment their stone washed denim skirts of course. I say, if they are going to do it, do it right for fuck's sake! If you are going to try to be 80's then break out the legwarmers, wear some crazy, bright makeup, with loads of eyeliner, curl, tease and spray your hair like there's no tomorrow!!
My big hair is gone, the 80's are gone and so is my youth. But I could still show these girls a thing or two about big hair! Just give me a curling iron, a brush and some Aquanet!
I used to have big hair. Well, big, frizzy, disgusting hair. But, big none the less. The big hair motto: The bigger the bangs the better. I went through so much environmentally unfriendly hairspray like water. The hairspray of choice: Aquanet. Dear God did that stuff stink too! With big ol' hair, you could only pray that it didn't rain. If your hairspray saturated bangs got wet, not only did they flatten, but they were reduced to this sticky, glue like substance. When you raked the brush through this sticky mess, you came out with gobs of sticky, white goo… white flakes when it dried. Then you could only start the whole merciless, curling, teasing and spraying process all over again.
My 6th grade teacher told me that I pulled out valuable brain cells when I did my hair.
I loved the 80's, I loved my youth. But the 80's style is one I never wanted to see return. Even more than the 80's style, the early 90's style is one I hope I never see again! Yet some people are just trapped in an era. I went to college, yes college, with this girl that was permanently stuck in the late 80's early 90's. She would come to class in her stone washed denim jeans with her matching stone washed denim jacket, complete with the pink lace filled cutouts. She even wore those terrible scrunchy socks and those witchlike looking, flat, pointy shoes. Her clothes weren't retro either, nuh uh, she was wearing vintage baby! You could tell she clung desperately to that era, the same as she clung to the clothes that she never bothered to throw out… even into the new millennium.
I see the young girls at the pubs on a Sat. night here. Sadly, they are trying to revive what is long dead. They think they are so cool and that their ensemble is complete when they find the big, dangly, electric blue earrings to match their electric blue top and electric blue high heels. All to compliment their stone washed denim skirts of course. I say, if they are going to do it, do it right for fuck's sake! If you are going to try to be 80's then break out the legwarmers, wear some crazy, bright makeup, with loads of eyeliner, curl, tease and spray your hair like there's no tomorrow!!
My big hair is gone, the 80's are gone and so is my youth. But I could still show these girls a thing or two about big hair! Just give me a curling iron, a brush and some Aquanet!
The Problem with the Middle East
The Problem with the Middle East Current mood: contemplative Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes
The Problem With the Middle East
By Leah Dunne
The problem with the Middle East is that it suffers from 'middle child syndrome.' Ancient and steeped in history as this part of the world may be, the problem lies within the name itself, 'Middle' East. It suffers from identity crisis. They are not a continent on their own, yet they're not European, they're not African, and although they are considered part of Asia, they are hardly Asian. They just don't know who they are! Poor souls. They're kind of like Central America, not quite North America and not quite South America. Confusingly enough, they're considered part of North America, although they're more like South Americans? At least they had the decency to call Central America 'Central' and not 'Middle' America! You don't see them terrorising other countries and starting wars with the world because they're confused about who they are! They are respecting enough to keep the fighting amongst themselves.
In researching this matter a little further, I found some interesting and coincidental people that were/are also middle children. Namely, Adolf Hitler, Saddam Hussein, Osama Bin Laden and Martha Stewart. Come on, the results speak for themselves! Mind you, there were plenty of other candidates I researched, but most of them turned out to be firstborns. That speaks for itself as well (bullies). Middle children all suffer from identity crisis, they're not the responsible (bully) eldest child, and they're not the free spirited (spoiled) youngest child. They are the monkey in the middle! These monkeys always feel they need to prove something to the world, make their mark. They start out going through a rebellious period to get attention, then they get a bit older and realise they are going to have to attain grandeur somehow to get that negative attention they so crave. They become tyrants to the weak and younger siblings, then they start invading their rooms or countries, the power goes to their head and they just start killing and bombing everyone. Well, Martha Stewart is a little more subtle and cunning about it, she baked cakes, did a mean ass grilled cheese and started some insider trading. All in all, you see the pattern here.
The question is: How do you deal with middle child syndrome? It's just as perplexing trying to deal with a middle child as it is a middle child part of the world. Everyone shaking their heads saying, 'What are we ever going to do with him/her?' Since I'm fresh out of Austrian nuns (that werent actually Austrian) to sing, 'How do you solve a problem like Maria' right now, I guess I'm going to have to come up with my own solution. Which, BTW, they never did 'solve' the problem of Maria, they just sent her off to get married to some militant type and left it up to him to solve her as a problem. Which, when you think about it, is not so dissimilar to the present situation in the 'Middle' East.
You see, not everyone in the 'Middle' East are middle children, just the problem few. It's hardly fair to punish so many others for the errant ways of the few. The best solution is usually to just ignore them. But if we ignore them, then we're leaving them to their own devices to pick on everyone. So, we round them up, spank them all, (spank in the 'Ow, that really hurts, Im gonna cry way', not spank in the 'Ohhh that hurts, do it again way') and send them all to 'time out' in Antarctica. Since we're dealing with a big crowd here, we're dealing with a bigger 'time out' time than say, 5 minutes. So, we'll have to make 'time out' more like 15 years. Yeah, I know they have words for these things like corporal punishment and exile. But, since were dealing with immature middle children here, we're going to do things like spanking (see above for exact kind of spanking) and time out. I know the poor people of Antarctica didn't do anything to deserve these bratty middle children being put on their continent for 'time out'. Since Antarctica is so big and the population so few, I figure we will be able to find a good, barren, populace less area to put them all in. they won't even know they're there.
While these problem middle children are gone, we'll be able to treat the poor people that have been tyrranised for years. We'll build them a 'Middle' East Disney and let them all have a free day to enjoy Mickey, Minnie, all the other characters and the rides . We'll make sure to make videos of this to send to the middle children in 'time out' in Antarctica and say , 'See, everyone else is having fun while you're gone! You were the problem all along!' After their 15 years are up, we'll do a little test run and see if they are fit to be part of the rest of the world again or not. If they aren't, we'll put them back in 'time out Antarctica' for another while. Don't feel bad for the middle children though, they'll have Martha Stewart with them, I'm sure she'll make a mean ass snow cone for them all. They just better hope when their re-evaluation comes up that Martha Stewart has to go back with them if they have to go back. Otherwise, they'll just be shit out of luck!
So that, boys and girls, is the problem with the 'Middle' East and my solution. Recapping: Middle children suffer identity crisis and start wars, so spank them (not in the enjoyable way) and send them to 'time out' in Antarctica (to eat Martha Stewart snow cones and hopefully get eaten by a polar bear).
The Problem With the Middle East
By Leah Dunne
The problem with the Middle East is that it suffers from 'middle child syndrome.' Ancient and steeped in history as this part of the world may be, the problem lies within the name itself, 'Middle' East. It suffers from identity crisis. They are not a continent on their own, yet they're not European, they're not African, and although they are considered part of Asia, they are hardly Asian. They just don't know who they are! Poor souls. They're kind of like Central America, not quite North America and not quite South America. Confusingly enough, they're considered part of North America, although they're more like South Americans? At least they had the decency to call Central America 'Central' and not 'Middle' America! You don't see them terrorising other countries and starting wars with the world because they're confused about who they are! They are respecting enough to keep the fighting amongst themselves.
In researching this matter a little further, I found some interesting and coincidental people that were/are also middle children. Namely, Adolf Hitler, Saddam Hussein, Osama Bin Laden and Martha Stewart. Come on, the results speak for themselves! Mind you, there were plenty of other candidates I researched, but most of them turned out to be firstborns. That speaks for itself as well (bullies). Middle children all suffer from identity crisis, they're not the responsible (bully) eldest child, and they're not the free spirited (spoiled) youngest child. They are the monkey in the middle! These monkeys always feel they need to prove something to the world, make their mark. They start out going through a rebellious period to get attention, then they get a bit older and realise they are going to have to attain grandeur somehow to get that negative attention they so crave. They become tyrants to the weak and younger siblings, then they start invading their rooms or countries, the power goes to their head and they just start killing and bombing everyone. Well, Martha Stewart is a little more subtle and cunning about it, she baked cakes, did a mean ass grilled cheese and started some insider trading. All in all, you see the pattern here.
The question is: How do you deal with middle child syndrome? It's just as perplexing trying to deal with a middle child as it is a middle child part of the world. Everyone shaking their heads saying, 'What are we ever going to do with him/her?' Since I'm fresh out of Austrian nuns (that werent actually Austrian) to sing, 'How do you solve a problem like Maria' right now, I guess I'm going to have to come up with my own solution. Which, BTW, they never did 'solve' the problem of Maria, they just sent her off to get married to some militant type and left it up to him to solve her as a problem. Which, when you think about it, is not so dissimilar to the present situation in the 'Middle' East.
You see, not everyone in the 'Middle' East are middle children, just the problem few. It's hardly fair to punish so many others for the errant ways of the few. The best solution is usually to just ignore them. But if we ignore them, then we're leaving them to their own devices to pick on everyone. So, we round them up, spank them all, (spank in the 'Ow, that really hurts, Im gonna cry way', not spank in the 'Ohhh that hurts, do it again way') and send them all to 'time out' in Antarctica. Since we're dealing with a big crowd here, we're dealing with a bigger 'time out' time than say, 5 minutes. So, we'll have to make 'time out' more like 15 years. Yeah, I know they have words for these things like corporal punishment and exile. But, since were dealing with immature middle children here, we're going to do things like spanking (see above for exact kind of spanking) and time out. I know the poor people of Antarctica didn't do anything to deserve these bratty middle children being put on their continent for 'time out'. Since Antarctica is so big and the population so few, I figure we will be able to find a good, barren, populace less area to put them all in. they won't even know they're there.
While these problem middle children are gone, we'll be able to treat the poor people that have been tyrranised for years. We'll build them a 'Middle' East Disney and let them all have a free day to enjoy Mickey, Minnie, all the other characters and the rides . We'll make sure to make videos of this to send to the middle children in 'time out' in Antarctica and say , 'See, everyone else is having fun while you're gone! You were the problem all along!' After their 15 years are up, we'll do a little test run and see if they are fit to be part of the rest of the world again or not. If they aren't, we'll put them back in 'time out Antarctica' for another while. Don't feel bad for the middle children though, they'll have Martha Stewart with them, I'm sure she'll make a mean ass snow cone for them all. They just better hope when their re-evaluation comes up that Martha Stewart has to go back with them if they have to go back. Otherwise, they'll just be shit out of luck!
So that, boys and girls, is the problem with the 'Middle' East and my solution. Recapping: Middle children suffer identity crisis and start wars, so spank them (not in the enjoyable way) and send them to 'time out' in Antarctica (to eat Martha Stewart snow cones and hopefully get eaten by a polar bear).
The Kitty Pimp
The Kitty Pimp Current mood: crazy
We have 7 cats. Not a fact that I'm proud of, but, fact none the less. I do love cats, don't get me wrong.. I just don't love how easily and how often my little kitties become 'baby mommas'. I'll give a bit of a family tree here, try to stay with me.. It is relevant. Papillon (aka, Pappy) is the matriarch of this clan. She had four kittens last year, two of which we kept, (against my will), Monkey, and Peco. This year, Monkey had four kittens, Peco has had a total of 8 now (technically 10, but two died), that's two litters Peco has had now. So, from Monkey and Peco's first litters this year, we have PJ (Peco Junior) and Chipmunk. From Peco's second litter this year, we have 2 six week old kittens that I call Bobcat and Blacky. I tend to give very generic names to kitties I don't intend to keep. Although, back to the 7 cats thing.. I don't win that argument too often. So, in order of age, Pappy, Monkey, Peco, PJ, Chipmunk, Blacky and Bobcat.
Lately, Pappy, who is usually very good natured, and Monkey, who just lives up to her namesake, have become very bitchy. Monkey comes in the garden at feeding time and hisses and growls at everyone, taking bitchy swipes at them. Monkey won't eat with everyone anymore either, she has to eat on her own. I attributed this to Monkey's very independent nature. Normally rather loving and mental, she always got on with everyone, but was a very terrible mother. She's extremely selfish. Now, Pappy has become very bitchy lately as well, smacking everyone and letting out the odd growl at them. That's very uncharacteristic of her. Pappy is the one who took over Monkey's brood because Monkey couldn't be arsed to stick around long enough to take care of them. So, with Pappy being bitchy, it got me wondering.
You see, cats can have multiple partners as the father(s) of their litters. There could be 5 fathers to one litter of kittens born. Thing is, most of our kittens all turned out looking uncannily the same. I know exactly who the father of all these kitties is. Lotto Plus One (the name is a long story I won't get into here). That black little bollox of a tom knocks all my kitties up. Which made me start thinking... The bitchiness of Monkey and Pappy isn't necessarily unfounded. In fact, I realised that we have quite the episode of Jerry Springer going on in our back garden. Monkey's first litter, who's the daddy? Lotto Plus One! Peco's first litter, who's the daddy? Lotto Plus One! Peco's second litter, who's the daddy? Lotto Plus One! Even Pappy was riding him! So, here we have mother and two daughters all riding the same bloke and all 3 of them have been knocked up by him.. Peco, twice!
We have trailer trash right here in our back garden! I know, I know, you might be saying to yourself right now, 'Why don't you just get them fixed?' Who would want to get them fixed and miss out on all the drama!? Yes, they cost us a fortune in cat food, but it's a small price to pay for something better than cable telly right on your doorstep. I mean, we got them a cat house, but I didn't know it was literally going to be a CAT HOUSE! Nevermind smitten kitten, I'm feel like the Kitty Pimp! Who else could say as much for themselves?
Aside from all of that, Chipmunk has proven to be our shining star. She produced, what was once thought to be a mythical creature in our area. She caught a mouse! Now, I know, a cat catching a mouse, big deal! But, a cat catching a mouse in an area where cats are in abundance, 7 of which are ours.. Now THAT, is a big deal. She was delighted with herself too. In fact, they all had a go at playing with the mouse after it was dead. I'm sure it was the first time most of them had even seen one. But.. then came the mystery.
Trev was out smoking the other night, and he saw something white at the side of the house. He just assumed it was a bit of paper or something and left it at that. We're not strangers to the odd thing being in our back garden. Since there is nothing much of interest for our cats to catch, they bring back whatever they can. Pappy knows of a house that has endless barbeques because she is forever bringing barbeque chicken, chicken wings and hamburgers to our garden for everyone to share. Sometimes they bring rolls or hotdog buns, sometimes they are lucky enough to get the hotdog itself. Peco once brought a big pile of plain, stuck together spaghetti noodles. The other day there was corn on the cob out there. Maybe these things crossed Trevor's mind when he decided to investigate this white thing. Or maybe it was because PJ was keeping very close watch on it. Either way, Trev called me outside to witness his find... Lo and behold, it was a seagull. Mind you, it wasn't a full grown seagull, but a big enough seagull none the less.
It's worth noting here that our garden is totally enclosed by a 6 foot solid wood fence. Anything the cats bring into our garden, has to come via their mouths, as they carry it over the fence with them. It's also worth noting that we live about a quarter of a mile inland. Not to say that I've never seen seagulls flying overhead, but it's not often and they never come close, they're always high in the sky. So, the enigma remains, how did a dead seagull get into our garden?
Pappy has trouble getting over the fence, and she's partial to pre cooked things that have been discarded. Monkey just couldn't be arsed, she's too lazy and too selfish to bring something like that back to everyone else. Peco.. she might be able to get it over the fence, but again, Peco only ever really brought us spaghetti before. PJ, he's a big boy, but the seagull would still be too big for him, and he's very timid, not into the whole, 'wildlife' thing. Chipmunk.. she's our new mouser, but the seagull was the size of her, I don't see her catching it, let alone being able to bring it over the fence.. Especially since she's pretty new to the 'over the fence' thing and not too good at it yet. Bobcat and Blacky are totally ruled out cause they haven't even left the garden yet since they're tiny and only 6 weeks old (in case anyone is looking for a couple of kittens)... Trev pondered the seagull running into the window or the house and killing itself. But, if it had hit the window there would have been a mark. The house? I don't know, but it still doesn't seem likely since seagulls never actually come out of the sky when they go inland a bit...
I reckon, trailer trash and wiley as our kitties are, one of the girls sent it as a message to the other girls, to stay away from her man. 'He who messes with Lotto Plus One, will be sleeping with with the seagulls.' I'm sure they wanted to say, 'with the fishes', but let's face it, if they caught a fish, they'd eat it and as cats, they're more likely to catch a seagull over a fish. I imagine they had a little trampoline on the other side of the fence and stuck the seagull on it and made one of the little kitties jump from the fence onto the trampoline to propel the seagull over the fence into our garden. I'm sure they would have written a message with it if they could, 'Lotto Plus One is MINE bitches!' But it's so hard to write anything with little kitty paws without thumbs. Ah, poor souls, mystery solved!
We have 7 cats. Not a fact that I'm proud of, but, fact none the less. I do love cats, don't get me wrong.. I just don't love how easily and how often my little kitties become 'baby mommas'. I'll give a bit of a family tree here, try to stay with me.. It is relevant. Papillon (aka, Pappy) is the matriarch of this clan. She had four kittens last year, two of which we kept, (against my will), Monkey, and Peco. This year, Monkey had four kittens, Peco has had a total of 8 now (technically 10, but two died), that's two litters Peco has had now. So, from Monkey and Peco's first litters this year, we have PJ (Peco Junior) and Chipmunk. From Peco's second litter this year, we have 2 six week old kittens that I call Bobcat and Blacky. I tend to give very generic names to kitties I don't intend to keep. Although, back to the 7 cats thing.. I don't win that argument too often. So, in order of age, Pappy, Monkey, Peco, PJ, Chipmunk, Blacky and Bobcat.
Lately, Pappy, who is usually very good natured, and Monkey, who just lives up to her namesake, have become very bitchy. Monkey comes in the garden at feeding time and hisses and growls at everyone, taking bitchy swipes at them. Monkey won't eat with everyone anymore either, she has to eat on her own. I attributed this to Monkey's very independent nature. Normally rather loving and mental, she always got on with everyone, but was a very terrible mother. She's extremely selfish. Now, Pappy has become very bitchy lately as well, smacking everyone and letting out the odd growl at them. That's very uncharacteristic of her. Pappy is the one who took over Monkey's brood because Monkey couldn't be arsed to stick around long enough to take care of them. So, with Pappy being bitchy, it got me wondering.
You see, cats can have multiple partners as the father(s) of their litters. There could be 5 fathers to one litter of kittens born. Thing is, most of our kittens all turned out looking uncannily the same. I know exactly who the father of all these kitties is. Lotto Plus One (the name is a long story I won't get into here). That black little bollox of a tom knocks all my kitties up. Which made me start thinking... The bitchiness of Monkey and Pappy isn't necessarily unfounded. In fact, I realised that we have quite the episode of Jerry Springer going on in our back garden. Monkey's first litter, who's the daddy? Lotto Plus One! Peco's first litter, who's the daddy? Lotto Plus One! Peco's second litter, who's the daddy? Lotto Plus One! Even Pappy was riding him! So, here we have mother and two daughters all riding the same bloke and all 3 of them have been knocked up by him.. Peco, twice!
We have trailer trash right here in our back garden! I know, I know, you might be saying to yourself right now, 'Why don't you just get them fixed?' Who would want to get them fixed and miss out on all the drama!? Yes, they cost us a fortune in cat food, but it's a small price to pay for something better than cable telly right on your doorstep. I mean, we got them a cat house, but I didn't know it was literally going to be a CAT HOUSE! Nevermind smitten kitten, I'm feel like the Kitty Pimp! Who else could say as much for themselves?
Aside from all of that, Chipmunk has proven to be our shining star. She produced, what was once thought to be a mythical creature in our area. She caught a mouse! Now, I know, a cat catching a mouse, big deal! But, a cat catching a mouse in an area where cats are in abundance, 7 of which are ours.. Now THAT, is a big deal. She was delighted with herself too. In fact, they all had a go at playing with the mouse after it was dead. I'm sure it was the first time most of them had even seen one. But.. then came the mystery.
Trev was out smoking the other night, and he saw something white at the side of the house. He just assumed it was a bit of paper or something and left it at that. We're not strangers to the odd thing being in our back garden. Since there is nothing much of interest for our cats to catch, they bring back whatever they can. Pappy knows of a house that has endless barbeques because she is forever bringing barbeque chicken, chicken wings and hamburgers to our garden for everyone to share. Sometimes they bring rolls or hotdog buns, sometimes they are lucky enough to get the hotdog itself. Peco once brought a big pile of plain, stuck together spaghetti noodles. The other day there was corn on the cob out there. Maybe these things crossed Trevor's mind when he decided to investigate this white thing. Or maybe it was because PJ was keeping very close watch on it. Either way, Trev called me outside to witness his find... Lo and behold, it was a seagull. Mind you, it wasn't a full grown seagull, but a big enough seagull none the less.
It's worth noting here that our garden is totally enclosed by a 6 foot solid wood fence. Anything the cats bring into our garden, has to come via their mouths, as they carry it over the fence with them. It's also worth noting that we live about a quarter of a mile inland. Not to say that I've never seen seagulls flying overhead, but it's not often and they never come close, they're always high in the sky. So, the enigma remains, how did a dead seagull get into our garden?
Pappy has trouble getting over the fence, and she's partial to pre cooked things that have been discarded. Monkey just couldn't be arsed, she's too lazy and too selfish to bring something like that back to everyone else. Peco.. she might be able to get it over the fence, but again, Peco only ever really brought us spaghetti before. PJ, he's a big boy, but the seagull would still be too big for him, and he's very timid, not into the whole, 'wildlife' thing. Chipmunk.. she's our new mouser, but the seagull was the size of her, I don't see her catching it, let alone being able to bring it over the fence.. Especially since she's pretty new to the 'over the fence' thing and not too good at it yet. Bobcat and Blacky are totally ruled out cause they haven't even left the garden yet since they're tiny and only 6 weeks old (in case anyone is looking for a couple of kittens)... Trev pondered the seagull running into the window or the house and killing itself. But, if it had hit the window there would have been a mark. The house? I don't know, but it still doesn't seem likely since seagulls never actually come out of the sky when they go inland a bit...
I reckon, trailer trash and wiley as our kitties are, one of the girls sent it as a message to the other girls, to stay away from her man. 'He who messes with Lotto Plus One, will be sleeping with with the seagulls.' I'm sure they wanted to say, 'with the fishes', but let's face it, if they caught a fish, they'd eat it and as cats, they're more likely to catch a seagull over a fish. I imagine they had a little trampoline on the other side of the fence and stuck the seagull on it and made one of the little kitties jump from the fence onto the trampoline to propel the seagull over the fence into our garden. I'm sure they would have written a message with it if they could, 'Lotto Plus One is MINE bitches!' But it's so hard to write anything with little kitty paws without thumbs. Ah, poor souls, mystery solved!
Sneaky Magpie Murderer
Sneaky Magpie Murderer Current mood: sneaky
Why I hate the PS3... Oh, let me count the ways. Ever since the PS3 entered our home, I look at it with utter contempt. I secretly dream of fucking it out the window then taking a hammer to it and smashing it into a million tiny little pieces. The PS3 consumes my husband's every free moment... Which can be seemingly endless hours sometimes. If' he's not actually playing a game, he's busy downloading demos to play (for seemingly endless hours) to decide if he actually wants to buy it and play it for hours on end. I wouldn't mind, but our only telly is in our sitting room/dining room/ kitchen. Unfortunately, the telly is the focal point of the whole room. So, I am forced to listen to or watch as he plays these games for hours, while I go about my business, when I have no interest in them whatsoever.
He rented out a game called Assassin's Creed, that's he's been playing for most of the week. He must have took a page or two out of the sneaky Assassin's Creed, for he's been very sneaky today!
He's been obsessed with this Drake's Fortune for I don't know how many months now. He downloaded the demo, he's watched extensive behind the scenes footage on how it was made, and has declared, I don't know how many times, 'I can't wait for this game to come out here.' Well, he's been playing what I thought was the demo to Drake's Fortune most of today. I found this odd for two reasons, 1. I thought he had already played the demo for it. 2. I thought it was lasting a REALLY long time for just being a demo. That's my only relief with demos.. I know he'll only play them for a few hours then the demo is over.
So, I've been listening to and watching him play Drake's Fortune all day and at this very moment. I made the comment that he was like a Magpie in the game because he was attracted to and always picking up shiny things. I also told him he was a murderer. He's spent the last hour killing people in the game. But I asked him only 15 minutes ago, 'What is the point in playing the demo, not once, but twice for hours on end, when I know you're going to get the game when it comes out and play it for hours on end?' That is when he put his sheepish grin on and said, 'I have a confession to make... This isn't the demo, I ordered the game off Ebay.'
Now, I heard the postman deliver the mail today while I laid in bed. I heard something heavy fall on the floor in the hall, which I assumed to be a package. But when I came downstairs, all that was on the table was a magazine, so I assumed that is what I heard. Trev, having come downstairs 20 minutes before me, had the fire going and was already playing his game. I didn't think much of it. Now, I KNOW it was his game I heard being delivered and not only did he burn the padded envelope it came in before I came downstairs, he actually put the case of the game in with all of the rest of the games so I wouldn't realise something was amiss!
I asked him why he wasn't sneaky when getting gifts for me, only when purchasing something for himself. Especially since I don't ever say 'no' to the child when he wants something, and I should! To which he had no answer of course... Only to blame his sneakiness on his mother (nice cop out).
Why can't he be sneaky about picking up his socks off the floor from under the coffee table every night? Why can't he be sneaky about doing the laundry or hoovering the floors or cleaning the bathroom? I don't really do sneaky, but maybe I'll start. Maybe I'll sneak some dirty boxers into his boxers drawer, maybe I'll sneak some petrol out of his car, maybe I'll sneak some holes into the arse of his jeans, OR maybe I'll sneak out while he's sleeping and smash his PS3 into a million tiny pieces! We'll see how he likes sneaky!
Why I hate the PS3... Oh, let me count the ways. Ever since the PS3 entered our home, I look at it with utter contempt. I secretly dream of fucking it out the window then taking a hammer to it and smashing it into a million tiny little pieces. The PS3 consumes my husband's every free moment... Which can be seemingly endless hours sometimes. If' he's not actually playing a game, he's busy downloading demos to play (for seemingly endless hours) to decide if he actually wants to buy it and play it for hours on end. I wouldn't mind, but our only telly is in our sitting room/dining room/ kitchen. Unfortunately, the telly is the focal point of the whole room. So, I am forced to listen to or watch as he plays these games for hours, while I go about my business, when I have no interest in them whatsoever.
He rented out a game called Assassin's Creed, that's he's been playing for most of the week. He must have took a page or two out of the sneaky Assassin's Creed, for he's been very sneaky today!
He's been obsessed with this Drake's Fortune for I don't know how many months now. He downloaded the demo, he's watched extensive behind the scenes footage on how it was made, and has declared, I don't know how many times, 'I can't wait for this game to come out here.' Well, he's been playing what I thought was the demo to Drake's Fortune most of today. I found this odd for two reasons, 1. I thought he had already played the demo for it. 2. I thought it was lasting a REALLY long time for just being a demo. That's my only relief with demos.. I know he'll only play them for a few hours then the demo is over.
So, I've been listening to and watching him play Drake's Fortune all day and at this very moment. I made the comment that he was like a Magpie in the game because he was attracted to and always picking up shiny things. I also told him he was a murderer. He's spent the last hour killing people in the game. But I asked him only 15 minutes ago, 'What is the point in playing the demo, not once, but twice for hours on end, when I know you're going to get the game when it comes out and play it for hours on end?' That is when he put his sheepish grin on and said, 'I have a confession to make... This isn't the demo, I ordered the game off Ebay.'
Now, I heard the postman deliver the mail today while I laid in bed. I heard something heavy fall on the floor in the hall, which I assumed to be a package. But when I came downstairs, all that was on the table was a magazine, so I assumed that is what I heard. Trev, having come downstairs 20 minutes before me, had the fire going and was already playing his game. I didn't think much of it. Now, I KNOW it was his game I heard being delivered and not only did he burn the padded envelope it came in before I came downstairs, he actually put the case of the game in with all of the rest of the games so I wouldn't realise something was amiss!
I asked him why he wasn't sneaky when getting gifts for me, only when purchasing something for himself. Especially since I don't ever say 'no' to the child when he wants something, and I should! To which he had no answer of course... Only to blame his sneakiness on his mother (nice cop out).
Why can't he be sneaky about picking up his socks off the floor from under the coffee table every night? Why can't he be sneaky about doing the laundry or hoovering the floors or cleaning the bathroom? I don't really do sneaky, but maybe I'll start. Maybe I'll sneak some dirty boxers into his boxers drawer, maybe I'll sneak some petrol out of his car, maybe I'll sneak some holes into the arse of his jeans, OR maybe I'll sneak out while he's sleeping and smash his PS3 into a million tiny pieces! We'll see how he likes sneaky!
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