Hello again gentle reader,
Well, despite the few grumbles from the more narrow minded of you I have to say that I've been overwhelmed by the outpouring of relief that I have received from so many of you regarding my return to blogging. Here's a brief selection of them.
Pixie!!! You're back. Life is purr-fect once more
Beano, Chester
Thank you, thank you, thank you Pix. It's like all our Christmases have come all at once.
Pepe, Darlington
I had begun to lose the will to live Pixie but now that you're back I feel like a new cat. Joy!!!
Oliver, Prestwich
So there you have it. Proof certain of just how much The Pixie Report has been missed.
Now, about this house business. Well, I've been here for a few months and I do quite like it, but how does it compare to my boat? Lets look at the pros and cons of both shall we, and then see how it all stacks up. We'll start with the house:
Pro
Central heating. Keeps me nice and cosy.
Con
Gets too warm for fat lad and he starts opening windows thus letting cold air in.
Pro
Soft carpets under my feet.
Con
Can be prone to snagging claws on it.
Pro
A flushing lavatory, the humans don't have to have what's basically a bucket full of shite hanging around the place anymore.
Con
Can't actually think of one except maybe the odour after the lummox has been in.
Pro
Stairs. Good for exercise.
Con
Just can't be arsed with them sometimes, like after a big meal.
Ok, that;s the main features of the house and it's kind of looking good. But now let's take a look at my boat in the same way:
Pro
Log burner for me to lie in front of.
Con
Lummox makes a right bleeding mess with it.
Pro
Hot metal roof for me to sunbathe on in the summer.
Con
Not so much fun in winter
Pro
All on one level, pretty much.
Con
There's only the one bedroom to get out of the way to when that f***ing dog visits.
Pro
It's mine
Con
Very few people actually seem to respect that fact.
Hmmm... that's all very compelling evidence for both. So I'm going to call it a draw. 50/50. Honours even. A tie. Six of one and half... oh for God's sake, you know what I mean. For now though the house is it. Its warm and comfortable and I'm having haddock for tea tonight. Well, I'd better bloody well be having it or there will serious trouble. I've already had to shred the lummox's hand this morning. When is he going to realise, I'll have a tummy tickle when I'm ready. Berk! Anyway, I'm doing grand for now and there'll be another installment of The Pixie Report very soon.
PPP x
Thursday, 14 March 2019
Wednesday, 27 February 2019
Back To Business After A Bit Of A Lay Off
Hi gentle reader
I took a bit of a sabbatical there for a while. Well, eighteen months to be precise but who's counting? You know how it is: you go for a nap, chase a few mice here and there, catch the odd bird, scratch the furniture, take some more naps and before you know it you're just too busy to blog. Some of the more unkind among you have dared to suggest that I simply couldn't be arsed anymore. Yes, really! I received the following emails and quite frankly am shocked and hurt by their content. See for yourself:
Hey! Pixie! It's been a long time with nothing happening here. Get your tail in gear and give us something new or are you just not bothered anymore?
Ralphy, Aberdeen
I've waited and waited but nothing for ages. What are you doing cat? Annoyed!!!!!!
Ginger, Banbury
What are you f*****g playing at Pix? Sort yourself out!
Lollipop, Otley
See! But my personal advice to Ralphy, Ginger, Lollipop and anyone else who wants to criticise me is go and shove it up your pencil sharpener as far as it will go and don't sully my inbox with your cheap diatribes ever again.
I'm back gentle reader and you and my many legions of fans (statistics speak for themselves) will no doubt be salivating to hear what I've been up to since last time. Well, there is much to tell. Ok, so only three really major things have happened. I'll deal with them in chronological order.
1) The lummox bought another boat. F*** me purple, you want to see the bloody thing. I've seen bigger boats in bathtubs. It looks like a narrowboat has been put on boil wash and shrunk. It's titchy. How on earth he supposes that he's ever going to manage in such a small space as that is beyond me. He's damn near as wide as the bloody boat. You want to see the thing when he steps on board. More of a lurch than the Addams Family!!! He'll be in the canal one day, I know he will. That boat is only about five ton in weight. It's not built for men of his immense girth. And as for the colour scheme... well... 50 shades of vomit is possibly the best way to describe it. And it's called Pipit! What kind of bile inducing name is that?
Apparently his reason for the purchase was to provide Ange with a business opportunity. It seems she would like to open some kind of floating, boat shop. I've heard talk of bric-a-brac being sold on it and one can only imagine the kind of tawdry tat that they'll be peddling on there. But that's not the worst of it gentle reader. No! They're also going to sell bloody dog treats. To dog owners! On the towpath! In broad daylight! Shame on them! Dogs don't need treating, they need to shut the hell up from all that barking. Mind you, they're going to be selling tennis balls to them as well so that should help with that. In addition, they're going to be flogging bags of duck food although to be honest I couldn't care tuppence about that either way. Anyway, good luck to them, I certainly won't be getting involved and without my weight behind it then the whole project is bound to collapse.
2) Get your lugholes around this one. Ange and the lummox got married. I kid you not. Last October. I'm not sure how he proposed but I can't imagine him getting down on one knee and then getting back up again in a hurry. At least, not without screaming. And she actually accepted!!! I mean, I've always questioned her eyesight and sense of smell weren't up to much but this is going too far surely. But no, wedded they are. And my God the whole place was inundated with people. Kids everywhere and people coming and going in and out of my boat. Naturally, of course, they all wanted to catch a glimpse of yours truly with the hope of getting their sticky mitts on my soft, desirable fur. So I did what any cat worth their salt would do and buggered off out for the day. It was sunny and warm so I just found somewhere quiet to soak up some rays and get away from it all. I understand that from their perspective the whole day went extremely well but whether they're married or not I couldn't care one single purr. Just so long as I'm kept in the manner I'm accustomed to. And surely to Christ they don't need a certificate for that!
They honeymooned in Ireland. Ange has relatives there so typically for the lummox they did it on the cheap (ham-fisted to the last). But what about Pixie Poo Poo? I hear you ask. Well, I was left in the company of Ange's brother. Stefan or Stavros or something. I never was great with names. Anyway, he stayed on my boat with me and made sure I was fed and kept warm. And I'll say this much for him, he knows how to present a haddock. After all, the first bite is with the eye and he clearly understands this. Not like the lummox who scrapes the batter off like he's trying to remove woodchip off a wall and then dumps the fish unceremoniously in the bowl with his sausage-like fingers. But not this guy, he made it a pleasure to eat. He even videoed me eating it. Can't blame him really can you? I've never seen a man take so many photographs and videos. He's even got one of those new-fangled flying things but I won't ''drone'' on about it (see what I did there!). Anyway, to cut a long story mercifully short my servants are now married.
3) We've sodding well moved again!!! I'm back on dry land gentle reader. Only this time it's not a glorified tin can on wheels, it's an actual, real, bonafide house! With carpets and central heating and everything! Now, yet again, I wasn't consulted on this and was once more spirited away thanks to the rough man-handling of that Becky Cardwell (By God, she walks a tightrope does that one). But you know what, despite being initially incensed by this, I'm now rather enjoying myself. The place is warm and cosy, doesn't smell of diesel and woodsmoke and those carpets make for some great scratching and clawing. I haven't seen any mice yet which is a bit of a shame but there is a dirty great white and black tomcat next door who will have to be put in his place. I haven't done it yet but I'll get round to it.
We've been here just over a month now and seeing as the lummox has done something useful for once and had wifi installed I thought it the purr-fect time to get back to the old Pixie Report. I'm sorry if my absence has caused distress to any of you as I know so many of you find comfort and enjoyment in my little blog. All I can say is, I'm back again! Let's see how long it lasts.
PPP x
I took a bit of a sabbatical there for a while. Well, eighteen months to be precise but who's counting? You know how it is: you go for a nap, chase a few mice here and there, catch the odd bird, scratch the furniture, take some more naps and before you know it you're just too busy to blog. Some of the more unkind among you have dared to suggest that I simply couldn't be arsed anymore. Yes, really! I received the following emails and quite frankly am shocked and hurt by their content. See for yourself:
Hey! Pixie! It's been a long time with nothing happening here. Get your tail in gear and give us something new or are you just not bothered anymore?
Ralphy, Aberdeen
I've waited and waited but nothing for ages. What are you doing cat? Annoyed!!!!!!
Ginger, Banbury
What are you f*****g playing at Pix? Sort yourself out!
Lollipop, Otley
See! But my personal advice to Ralphy, Ginger, Lollipop and anyone else who wants to criticise me is go and shove it up your pencil sharpener as far as it will go and don't sully my inbox with your cheap diatribes ever again.
I'm back gentle reader and you and my many legions of fans (statistics speak for themselves) will no doubt be salivating to hear what I've been up to since last time. Well, there is much to tell. Ok, so only three really major things have happened. I'll deal with them in chronological order.
1) The lummox bought another boat. F*** me purple, you want to see the bloody thing. I've seen bigger boats in bathtubs. It looks like a narrowboat has been put on boil wash and shrunk. It's titchy. How on earth he supposes that he's ever going to manage in such a small space as that is beyond me. He's damn near as wide as the bloody boat. You want to see the thing when he steps on board. More of a lurch than the Addams Family!!! He'll be in the canal one day, I know he will. That boat is only about five ton in weight. It's not built for men of his immense girth. And as for the colour scheme... well... 50 shades of vomit is possibly the best way to describe it. And it's called Pipit! What kind of bile inducing name is that?
Apparently his reason for the purchase was to provide Ange with a business opportunity. It seems she would like to open some kind of floating, boat shop. I've heard talk of bric-a-brac being sold on it and one can only imagine the kind of tawdry tat that they'll be peddling on there. But that's not the worst of it gentle reader. No! They're also going to sell bloody dog treats. To dog owners! On the towpath! In broad daylight! Shame on them! Dogs don't need treating, they need to shut the hell up from all that barking. Mind you, they're going to be selling tennis balls to them as well so that should help with that. In addition, they're going to be flogging bags of duck food although to be honest I couldn't care tuppence about that either way. Anyway, good luck to them, I certainly won't be getting involved and without my weight behind it then the whole project is bound to collapse.
2) Get your lugholes around this one. Ange and the lummox got married. I kid you not. Last October. I'm not sure how he proposed but I can't imagine him getting down on one knee and then getting back up again in a hurry. At least, not without screaming. And she actually accepted!!! I mean, I've always questioned her eyesight and sense of smell weren't up to much but this is going too far surely. But no, wedded they are. And my God the whole place was inundated with people. Kids everywhere and people coming and going in and out of my boat. Naturally, of course, they all wanted to catch a glimpse of yours truly with the hope of getting their sticky mitts on my soft, desirable fur. So I did what any cat worth their salt would do and buggered off out for the day. It was sunny and warm so I just found somewhere quiet to soak up some rays and get away from it all. I understand that from their perspective the whole day went extremely well but whether they're married or not I couldn't care one single purr. Just so long as I'm kept in the manner I'm accustomed to. And surely to Christ they don't need a certificate for that!
They honeymooned in Ireland. Ange has relatives there so typically for the lummox they did it on the cheap (ham-fisted to the last). But what about Pixie Poo Poo? I hear you ask. Well, I was left in the company of Ange's brother. Stefan or Stavros or something. I never was great with names. Anyway, he stayed on my boat with me and made sure I was fed and kept warm. And I'll say this much for him, he knows how to present a haddock. After all, the first bite is with the eye and he clearly understands this. Not like the lummox who scrapes the batter off like he's trying to remove woodchip off a wall and then dumps the fish unceremoniously in the bowl with his sausage-like fingers. But not this guy, he made it a pleasure to eat. He even videoed me eating it. Can't blame him really can you? I've never seen a man take so many photographs and videos. He's even got one of those new-fangled flying things but I won't ''drone'' on about it (see what I did there!). Anyway, to cut a long story mercifully short my servants are now married.
3) We've sodding well moved again!!! I'm back on dry land gentle reader. Only this time it's not a glorified tin can on wheels, it's an actual, real, bonafide house! With carpets and central heating and everything! Now, yet again, I wasn't consulted on this and was once more spirited away thanks to the rough man-handling of that Becky Cardwell (By God, she walks a tightrope does that one). But you know what, despite being initially incensed by this, I'm now rather enjoying myself. The place is warm and cosy, doesn't smell of diesel and woodsmoke and those carpets make for some great scratching and clawing. I haven't seen any mice yet which is a bit of a shame but there is a dirty great white and black tomcat next door who will have to be put in his place. I haven't done it yet but I'll get round to it.
We've been here just over a month now and seeing as the lummox has done something useful for once and had wifi installed I thought it the purr-fect time to get back to the old Pixie Report. I'm sorry if my absence has caused distress to any of you as I know so many of you find comfort and enjoyment in my little blog. All I can say is, I'm back again! Let's see how long it lasts.
PPP x
Tuesday, 26 September 2017
Fire!!!
If there's one thing the lummox can do properly (and it is only the one thing) it's lighting a fire and keeping my boat warm. And due to the recent cool weather we've already had a couple of fires of an evening. And I love it gentle reader. I absolutely love laying in front of the stove and feeling the heat radiate over my gorgeous, silken fur. But then all of us cats love that kind of thing, let's face it. Who wouldn't? And I'm looking forward to many more over the coming months of Autumn and Winter. Especially seeing that the portly one will be home at ten o'clock every day and will have to light one then so that I can get out of bed and still be cosy and toasty. It'll be grand. I just hope he manages to keep a goodly supply of wood and coal in. I haven't seen him wield axe nor chainsaw in a long time. But then he's probably past it now and will have to buy it in. If that's the case I suggest you get some overtime in then my flabby friend as I insist on being kept warm and you will rue the day that we run out of combustible fuel let me tell you.
PPP x
PPP x
Thursday, 21 September 2017
A Slim Chance
The lummox is going on a diet and cutting down on the booze. Hold on a minute while I have a bloody good laugh...
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, HAH!
...that's better.
I mean, honestly, can you see old dribbling porky loins losing weight and getting healthy? No, neither can I. Apparently he feels goaded into action due to a recent visit to the doctor. He has high blood pressure and is generally in a poor physical condition. He's probably plagued with cholesterol as well which I'm sure will be revealed by the blood test he's due to have. Well, you can't say I haven't warned you all about this. What with the man being such a fat and sedentary article it was bound to happen wasn't it?
So now he's out buying salad and vegetables and vowing to rid himself of fried food, pasties, dairy products and ale. Huh! I'll believe that when I see it. I just can't imagine him going for more than a few days without swilling Irish stout down his gluttonous throat like it's going out of fashion. And it's only a brief matter of time before he's gorging himself on food that is taken away from it's place of preparation and eaten at home. Lose wait!?! A slim chance indeed!
PPP x
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, HAH!
...that's better.
I mean, honestly, can you see old dribbling porky loins losing weight and getting healthy? No, neither can I. Apparently he feels goaded into action due to a recent visit to the doctor. He has high blood pressure and is generally in a poor physical condition. He's probably plagued with cholesterol as well which I'm sure will be revealed by the blood test he's due to have. Well, you can't say I haven't warned you all about this. What with the man being such a fat and sedentary article it was bound to happen wasn't it?
So now he's out buying salad and vegetables and vowing to rid himself of fried food, pasties, dairy products and ale. Huh! I'll believe that when I see it. I just can't imagine him going for more than a few days without swilling Irish stout down his gluttonous throat like it's going out of fashion. And it's only a brief matter of time before he's gorging himself on food that is taken away from it's place of preparation and eaten at home. Lose wait!?! A slim chance indeed!
PPP x
Wednesday, 13 September 2017
A Question Of Age - Part 2
Well, what a response I've had to this subject - when is a cat a senior?. And many thanks to all who emailed me with their thoughts on the matter. Here's a brief selection from the old electronic mail bag:
"I'm with you on this one Pixie. Keep up the good work"
Pickles, Norwich
"There's no such thing as senior cats. We're all in purr-fect condition"
Cupcake, Croydon
"You're right as usual Pix. Power to your paw!"
Tabby, Weston-Super-Mare
"As a cat of some 18 years I would class myself as senior but only in a way that means I'm a very wise cat. I can still put the mice in their place and claw the furniture to shreds when the mood takes me."
Smokey, Kettering
"Up yours humans!"
Sooky, Chepstow
"Who cares what humans think? We run this world. They're just glorified servants."
Fluffykins, Merthyr Tydfil
"I'd like to think that I'll reach a ripe old age and still put away the odd tin of tuna."
Rolo, Portsmouth
"You're only as old as the cat that you feel."
Poshpaws, Bodmin
"Human beings can shove it up their arses as far as I'm concerned!!! Love the blog by the way."
Snuggles, Mansfield
Wow, seems that I've really stirred up a real hornets nest with this one. Take my advice, don't give the humans the satisfaction of thinking you're senior. We know what we are. We are cats and proud of it. Once again many, many thanks to all who emailed me. Your support and enthusiasm for The Pixie Report is gratefully received. Thank you.
PPP x
"I'm with you on this one Pixie. Keep up the good work"
Pickles, Norwich
"There's no such thing as senior cats. We're all in purr-fect condition"
Cupcake, Croydon
"You're right as usual Pix. Power to your paw!"
Tabby, Weston-Super-Mare
"As a cat of some 18 years I would class myself as senior but only in a way that means I'm a very wise cat. I can still put the mice in their place and claw the furniture to shreds when the mood takes me."
Smokey, Kettering
"Up yours humans!"
Sooky, Chepstow
"Who cares what humans think? We run this world. They're just glorified servants."
Fluffykins, Merthyr Tydfil
"I'd like to think that I'll reach a ripe old age and still put away the odd tin of tuna."
Rolo, Portsmouth
"You're only as old as the cat that you feel."
Poshpaws, Bodmin
"Human beings can shove it up their arses as far as I'm concerned!!! Love the blog by the way."
Snuggles, Mansfield
Wow, seems that I've really stirred up a real hornets nest with this one. Take my advice, don't give the humans the satisfaction of thinking you're senior. We know what we are. We are cats and proud of it. Once again many, many thanks to all who emailed me. Your support and enthusiasm for The Pixie Report is gratefully received. Thank you.
PPP x
Tuesday, 5 September 2017
A Question Of Age
I have been affronted gentle reader. Yet again the humans have sought to upset me and injure my pride. How? I hear you ask. Simple! They've started buying me "senior" cat food. Senior!!! Me!!! I couldn't believe it, I really couldn't.
For a short while now I have been playing the old 'turn my nose up' game at the food I've been laughingly presented with. Some of it absolute tosh I have to say. Co-op shite and Aldi muck! Nuts to that, I want, demand and deserve the finer things in life. So the lummox was duly dispatched to Asda to see what else he could rustle up. Surely, I thought, surely even he can get it right from such a wide and varied selection. Well, he turned up with Gourmet Mon Petit (which I do actually like) and some Go-Cat biscuits (which are also quite choice) but then he blew it by pulling a packet of senior cat food out of his tatty little shopping bag. I stared at him for a few moments believing it to be some kind of practical joke and thinking that he would then produce a tin of salmon or some honey roast ham but no. The fat lout then opened the bloody senior stuff and put it in my bowl. Now, in all honesty I have to say that it actually smelled really nice and I was tempted enough to try it. And it was good, I did quite enjoy it despite the obvious insult towards me of suggesting that I am a senior cat.
Senior! I ask you! Bloody senior. I'm not a senior. I'm in the prime of my life. I have the figure and athleticism of a cat half my age. Why, you should see me leaping onto the roof of my boat and sprinting along my mooring like a cheetah. I mean, for crying out loud I'm only 10 (well, next month) and that's hardly any age for a cat these days. However, according to the packet of this food that he bought senior counts as 7+. Ee gad, that's barely out of kittenhood! 7+! Bloody hell! I was just getting my wind up at 7. And now that makes us all seniors!?! What an affront to all cats everywhere who are at that age. Humans really don't know bugger all do they? What berk decided that age 7 was when cats become senior? What twat sat and worked out that it's all downhill from there for us pussies? It's a disgrace, gentle reader, nothing short of a disgrace and I think it's time something was done to rectify this farcical fallacy.
However, it does beg the question - at what age are cats senior? I'd like to hear your furry thoughts on the matter and you can do so by emailing me at treblepcat@gmail.com or by using the comments form below. Maybe then we can stick it to the humans and get some well earned respect around here.
PPP x
For a short while now I have been playing the old 'turn my nose up' game at the food I've been laughingly presented with. Some of it absolute tosh I have to say. Co-op shite and Aldi muck! Nuts to that, I want, demand and deserve the finer things in life. So the lummox was duly dispatched to Asda to see what else he could rustle up. Surely, I thought, surely even he can get it right from such a wide and varied selection. Well, he turned up with Gourmet Mon Petit (which I do actually like) and some Go-Cat biscuits (which are also quite choice) but then he blew it by pulling a packet of senior cat food out of his tatty little shopping bag. I stared at him for a few moments believing it to be some kind of practical joke and thinking that he would then produce a tin of salmon or some honey roast ham but no. The fat lout then opened the bloody senior stuff and put it in my bowl. Now, in all honesty I have to say that it actually smelled really nice and I was tempted enough to try it. And it was good, I did quite enjoy it despite the obvious insult towards me of suggesting that I am a senior cat.
Senior! I ask you! Bloody senior. I'm not a senior. I'm in the prime of my life. I have the figure and athleticism of a cat half my age. Why, you should see me leaping onto the roof of my boat and sprinting along my mooring like a cheetah. I mean, for crying out loud I'm only 10 (well, next month) and that's hardly any age for a cat these days. However, according to the packet of this food that he bought senior counts as 7+. Ee gad, that's barely out of kittenhood! 7+! Bloody hell! I was just getting my wind up at 7. And now that makes us all seniors!?! What an affront to all cats everywhere who are at that age. Humans really don't know bugger all do they? What berk decided that age 7 was when cats become senior? What twat sat and worked out that it's all downhill from there for us pussies? It's a disgrace, gentle reader, nothing short of a disgrace and I think it's time something was done to rectify this farcical fallacy.
However, it does beg the question - at what age are cats senior? I'd like to hear your furry thoughts on the matter and you can do so by emailing me at treblepcat@gmail.com or by using the comments form below. Maybe then we can stick it to the humans and get some well earned respect around here.
PPP x
Tuesday, 29 August 2017
Bank Holiday Blues
Boo! Yah, boo and sucks to it! My bank holiday weekend has been thoroughly ruined by humans and the dog. Wrecked! Destroyed! All my plans out of the window! Still, it could've been worse. I'll explain...
Ever since Friday we've had Becky, Erin and the dog here. Literally for the whole weekend. And of course you know what that means don't you? Debauchery and barking in equal measure. I've had to hide myself away from that hairy, beige moron as he gets on my tits so much and the humans have been making such a mess and a cacophony working on my boat that it's been near impossible for me to get anything resembling peace and quiet. But, like I say it could have been a lot worse. The buggers where planning to go cruising. Cruising!!! Without my express permission! But I had the last laugh oh gentle reader. I had the last laugh indeed. There they were buying in supplies and taking the wheelhouse down and getting diesel and making all sorts of preparations for a jolly but then the engine overheated and all of a sudden they were going nowhere fast. Hah!
I thought for a while that that was it and that they would all sod off out for the day but no. They then set about doing all manner of work on my boat and turned the placed into a bloody building site. And then (get this), and then they went and painted the side of my boat purple. F*****g purple!!! I'm sorry but I don't remember inviting anybody to paint my boat purple. I was affronted. And of course whilst all this was going on the bloody dog kept up a constant flow of barking just to prove to all and sundry what a berk he is. It's been a nightmare gentle reader, an absolute nightmare. Erin did her best to placate me with soothing words but it was no good. Thank you for trying though. You are the one shining light in a sea of infuriating humans Erin.
Like I say, this went on for the whole weekend and to add insult to injury they had a barbecue on Saturday and a big meaty fry-up on Sunday which the dog managed to get in on but did I get anything? No! Sod all! It's over now though and that panting great brute has gone home. I mean the dog of course, not the lummox (sorry for any confusion there). It'll not be forgotten in a hurry let me assure you and I now plan to launch a campaign of sulking, fussy eating and night time meowing for the next few days to get back at them for putting me through all that. So there!
PPP x
PS - I thought the lummox could break wind but that Becky is something else!
Ever since Friday we've had Becky, Erin and the dog here. Literally for the whole weekend. And of course you know what that means don't you? Debauchery and barking in equal measure. I've had to hide myself away from that hairy, beige moron as he gets on my tits so much and the humans have been making such a mess and a cacophony working on my boat that it's been near impossible for me to get anything resembling peace and quiet. But, like I say it could have been a lot worse. The buggers where planning to go cruising. Cruising!!! Without my express permission! But I had the last laugh oh gentle reader. I had the last laugh indeed. There they were buying in supplies and taking the wheelhouse down and getting diesel and making all sorts of preparations for a jolly but then the engine overheated and all of a sudden they were going nowhere fast. Hah!
I thought for a while that that was it and that they would all sod off out for the day but no. They then set about doing all manner of work on my boat and turned the placed into a bloody building site. And then (get this), and then they went and painted the side of my boat purple. F*****g purple!!! I'm sorry but I don't remember inviting anybody to paint my boat purple. I was affronted. And of course whilst all this was going on the bloody dog kept up a constant flow of barking just to prove to all and sundry what a berk he is. It's been a nightmare gentle reader, an absolute nightmare. Erin did her best to placate me with soothing words but it was no good. Thank you for trying though. You are the one shining light in a sea of infuriating humans Erin.
Like I say, this went on for the whole weekend and to add insult to injury they had a barbecue on Saturday and a big meaty fry-up on Sunday which the dog managed to get in on but did I get anything? No! Sod all! It's over now though and that panting great brute has gone home. I mean the dog of course, not the lummox (sorry for any confusion there). It'll not be forgotten in a hurry let me assure you and I now plan to launch a campaign of sulking, fussy eating and night time meowing for the next few days to get back at them for putting me through all that. So there!
PPP x
PS - I thought the lummox could break wind but that Becky is something else!
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