When The Cat's Away....

I retire for a few day... er... wee... um...you know, and look at what's happened. You buggers just went on with your lives, didn't you? Tsk.

It's not just you, either. It's the whole damn country. I mean, REALLY. Talk about hyping up the drama just to get my attention. Fine. I'm here now. Happy?

Christmas came and went like last night's baked beans and I don't think even the guy who played baby Jesus in this time's nativity had time to complete a single 'wah' before the baubles were being packed back up into boxes. Which is a shame, because I'm sure he practiced diligently for the part.

Then New Year traipsed in with as much aplomb as my father's morning farts, only to fizzle miserably at the alcohol ban courtesy of the full moon, who still has no idea why she got the finger so many times on 31st night.

And how to forget the circus coming to town and all that. What with all the death-defying tight-rope walking and the superb clown acts. I love the theme of the event too... 'elections'. Brilliant. It's a shame that the dancing swan item didn't go that well, though... the organizers should really think twice before training a swan to sing along to a choral backup of elephants. After all, look at what happened to the bird... choked on that maggot-ridden betel leaf it tried to chew on in the midst of song. Swany must learn that one NEVER bites into rotten greens... especially those grown in Mervin's back yard, calling themsleves sons of the dung and all.

Did you know Mervin is also an anagram for vermin? I figured that one out recently, whilst preparing for a poo on the throne. By which I meant shit on the toilet seat, and not the moustached guy in the red scarf. But you're forgiven... everyone else thinks I'm referring to him too.

But I digress. No... actually... I don't. I was talking about His Majesty the poo-head. How the razzmatazz on in-deep-end-ance day? Did anyone watch the show? I didn't either. Was too busy de-fleaing the dog.

If things weren't pathetic enough, that cupid bugger just had to come and join in the fray too. Must have felt lonely, aney... all that love going around without his involvement and so many politicos trying to outdo the pain in the arse his arrows cause. So he swooped down with the finesse of a stampeding rhino and shot at a few buttocks, sending Sri Lankan maledom into a flurry of emotional guilt trips. My own victim and I decided to forego the usual palarva and perform a home-made BBQ. Surprisingly, it went quite well. Even the neighbourhood cat joined in and took off with a couple of chicken bones. Love must have been in the air, because Docca boy never shows any love to that cat. Which is why it has been christened 'Houdini Bitch'. Houdinin because of the many close encounters he's suffered at the hands of a wrathed boyfriend, and Bitch because that's what he's lovingly referred to at times of said encounters. However, this Valentines day, he was a happy Houdini.

You're right. The post is sounding a little too snarky and jaded. This is not like me. Vut to dhoo... sign of the times and all.

I blame poo head.

It's not that I'm even into politics. hell, I do everything in within my means to stay well away from that bunch of ingrates, but they always find a way to come back and cling to that last nerve and rub it raw. Aubergines, all of them.

Give me a few more days and I'll be back with a bang that's not in the least bit pornographic, unless you're naturally filthy minded.

Now Go. Get off this blog and go read the Daily News. Much more entertaining, I assure you.