Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Ginger cat takes refuge in nut sanctuary!

Many complaints in the Daily Biles: George Galloway fawning at the feet of the ginger headed Rula Lenska he was 'impersonating a cat.'
"Ooh shock horror!"
I agree this is something that should cause consternation it was bad acting, servile, graceless a total misrepresentation of the feline species. What made it even more stomach churningly nauseating the word ginger and cat were made in the same sentence. G.G acts most feline when he's not trying to act cat; he has a natural disposition towards independence (a very feline trait) although the words respect and party tagged on the end seems rather a contradiction in terms. I choke on my Friskies.
Anyway this is one ginger link that I shall not pursue further; in fact I may not include it, if you can read it though I have.

This little snippet shows the qualities of the ginger cat.

Both the French and the Germans adopted a foraging ginger cat as a mascot. The cat existed, and divided its time between the two entrenched troops. He was arrested by the French, convicted of espionage and shot in accordance with military regulations.

Martin (male human of the household.) says I'm losing the plot with this weblog. Well excuse me! This is turning into not so good a week, apart from the criticism I have had some randy, mangy, black tom cat spraying all over my patio, and who gets the blame? Moi!
Martin shouts.
"That cat is going to the vets."
One whiff of eu de naturelle felix and Martin's gathered his knitting and presides at the blade of Madame Guillotine. Hmmpf!

Martin may have his nuts knobbled, his choice. Mine are not to be cream crackered, my choice.

This is a democracy.

This is a democracy?

This is a democracy!

Ummh. Little things do make a difference and mine may not be huge but it would be bloody different without them. Every year we go through this, and every year I have to vacate my comfortable abode and head four doors up to the nut sanctuary, and all because of that clueless clown who believes that at some point Dolly or Lilly will succumb to his advances. I've tried knocking some sense into him I've tried reasoning, he just doesn't believe me when I say they can't, they've been knobbled. He believes I just want to keep them for myself, which of course would be true if they weren't spayed but unfortunately it is. So now I'm preparing for my removal, which should last about a week if things run their normal course. Dolly will pop over the walls to let me know what is going on back home -or to gloat, I'm never really sure how to read that cat. Oh well!

Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, da, da,

do do do do do do do do do do do do, do, do,

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