Day 184: I Revert To Speed-O-Blog Once Again In An Attempt To Get My Cat Off My Hands

This endless busyness is wearing. My shoulders are aching. I dream of sugar and things that would make a Freudian psychoanalyst wear holes in her notepad.

Yet tiny things continue to drip just within range of my relentlessly efficient peripheral vision! I find myself compelled, by a strange force I do not understand, to further wear down the coating on the space bar and "e" in the dim hope that someone, somewhere will want to know how I smuggled an aquatic rodent into a Top London Eaterie* last night.

And so to 'Speed-O-Blog' once again, my last resort in times of Busyness. (Or how about "Postasbord"? Sounds clever and faintly Scandinavian.)

We take Beaver the Beaver out on the town

Regular readers will be aware of the work of Beaver the Beaver. He has been down in the mouth of late; yesterday afternoon, I found him listening to Airbag by Radiohead and sighing, a little as I did a month or so ago . This can only mean one thing: he is homesick for the Canada.

There is nothing sadder than a homesick beaver and so, when I went to dine with my brother, Runningmonkey, Beaver the Beaver came too. (We went to a very nice restaurant, where they provided a special high chair, a picture of Canada and some pencils for him to colour it in with.)






















As you will see from these photographs, he also practised dam building on a panacotta with poached rhubarb and the "truffle logs"* that came with my afogato, and had a cheeky pop on our biscuit in Bar Italia afterwards.

You will be glad to know that Beaver the Beaver is now tucked up in front of repeats of "Life On Earth" on BBC9, talking about snowshoes in the shape of tennis rackets and looking at the picture of Pierre Trudeau I cut out of a magazine for him.

I think my cat needs a new home

Regular readers will be aware of the work of my cat, Monster. I adoped him and his uncle, Squiffy (deceased) one night two years ago when I was drunk. Monster is about 13, fat and very stupid. On a good day (i.e., when he has company all day), he is like Bagpuss. On a bad day, I want him to die. He is so stupid that he sits in the garden under apple trees, and when very big apples the size of the moon fall on his head it makes no apparent difference.

I am away quite a lot. This is not good for Monster. Monster needs attention and affection. He will probably die soon, so you won't have to feed him for long. If you want him, please let me know. If you are nice and I think you will like him more than I do (not difficult), I will even drive him to you if you live in Edinburgh.

As if I have not made him sound tempting enough, here are some enticing photographs:

























You should also know that an eminent veterinary friend has confirmed that he a) does not have dementia; b) is a bit weird; c) looks like a bat about the ears.

I am going to see a Baby

Tomorrow to the Hospital to see a Tiny Baby inside a lady! Happily, I know the lady, and also her husband, and also her small daughter who is my goddaughter (and has a monkey called Creskin). I will see the baby on a Screen apparently!

I am going on a Business Trip

Regular readers will be aware of the fact that in the olden days I used to travel on big planes in the name of Business. Ladies in hats would bring me free stuff, most of which I did not want, and there were always men with boards with my name on everywhere, even at the end of my bed in my five star hotel room.

On Friday I go to Amsterdam to See A Man About A Dog. Just like in the Olden Days, my travel has been arranged for me. I will however admit that I was startled to discover that my flight leaves Stansted at 7.05 IN THE MORNING.

The comments are better than the post

This is often the way, as my readers are, on the whole (with the exception of any of my family) quite amusing. You don't need a link; just read the comments on the post below.


* I dislike this kind of language. Things like "a portion of moist cake" that has been "drenched with a mouthwatering coulis". Give me the fucking cake and shut up, fool.

Day 184: I Wonder If He's Being Ironic

You may like this.

Please study it carefully. Is the man:

1. Being ironic, but actually quite put out
2. A knob
3. Trying to be funny?

I think the answer is (1).

Day 183: I Consider An Alternative Mode Of Travel

Regular readers will be aware that I have been unemployed for 183 days. Some may also be aware that my unemployment has been a relatively luxurious affair supported, as it has been, with enough money to buy crisps and a new hat every week.

But my dears! The temptation! It takes Effort not to fill one's days with family size packs of Revels, triple bills of Judge Judy and blog posts about squirrels, beavers and enormous plaster cocks. Sadly, my efforts have not always been successful, especially in matters of rodents (aquatic and otherwise) and Classical Genitalia.

I can however congratulate myself (and you may congratulate me too, if you wish), on my adherence to my revolutionary new diet and fitness plan*. It has led to considerable weight loss and increased fitness (particularly in the thigh area), for which I have rewarded myself with the odd afternoon of Murder She Wrote with the sound turned off whilst reading 50p novels from the charity shop. (A pleasure that can only be improved by the sure knowledge that Morse: 20 Year Anniversary is only twenty minutes away.)

But I am human (surprising though it is to hear it), and the Festive Period (inc. a wedding and Royal Colonial Visit from a self-haircutting Pathologist), has meant that my usual regime of daily three hour sessions at the gymnasium followed by macrobiotic air in a low-cal shake has fallen by the wayside. I have therefore been Taking Action over the last four days, star-jumping out of the front door in my Nike Air 360s as the sun rises, and eating food that can only be described as Healthy In Quite A Dull Way.

On Saturday, for example, I ate an entire cabbage for lunch, stir-fried with chili and garlic. In the evening, a chop and some courgettes, accompanied by some dark ale I found in the refrigerator (a treat after a Long Day working, consumed in front of a film with a man in it). The next day, thoughts - and my diet - turned to stews of pulses and brown basmati rice with a Healthy Accompaniment of broccoli. Porridge has been eaten, with a banana and a little honey. Apples and pears have been consumed, with some oatcakes. Salmon today, with Many Green Beans. And last night, to dinner with Friends! "We shall go and have a Mexican dinner", they cried, marching me off to a Fashionable Hoxton Venue. There, we ate spiced meats accompanied by raw shredded cabbage, re-fried beans and dark ale.

On Monday, I am going to Amsterdam to see a man about a job. I have ignored his secretary's repeated requests for information concerning my airport and carrier of choice, as Air Tickets will not be necessary. I shall be getting myself to the Netherlands using my own Special Propulsion Jet, a method of transport that I am sure you will all agree is the Environmentally Friendly Choice: low on carbon emissions whilst making constructive use of natural methane gasses.


* It's a fucking sensation. It is called "The Eat Less and Move Around More" diet. I confidently predict it will be sweeping the nation by May. In fact, I'll be astonished if The Daily Mail aren't on the blower offering me an 8-page Bikini Diet Get Fit For Easter Pullout Special Feature (sponsored by Avon) by Thursday.

Day 182: I Am Yet Again Asked To Open A Baby Giant Rabbit (And/Or Tiger) Petting Zoo

"... So what you could do", said my friend Sarah, "is have a petting zoo. With giant rabbits in it. And then I could come and run it."

Sarah is always GOING ON about the giant rabbit petting zoo. If it's not giant rabbits, it's tigers. At the moment, she claims she has a 'meercam' attached to her computer, which provides her with round-the-clock images of a family of meerkats. (What she then does with those images is not known, but we do not like to ask).

However, Sarah has surpassed herself this afternoon by sending me the following images of pandas, accompanied by a Mysterious Note.

"I send you these", she writes, "but just imagine them with baby giant rabbits and tigers instead."






Imagine it indeed!

Day 181: I Am Delighted By A Small But Athletic Act Of Vandalism