I had a terrible dilemma last night on television. I had the opportunity to provide stimulation to my glorious brain cells or watch something that could have fell from my backside.
I mean who thought that putting Egypt's Lost Cities and Britain's Got Talent on at the same time was a good idea? Talk about ruining it for the same demographic audience! The poor people that would love to watch a talking dog (may not be on this year) or a stripper performing to Britney (maybe not true, who knows?), were of course also wanting to see the technical and painstaking exploration of the most amazing civilisation the world has ever known.
It was a crying shame that all those Simon Cowell fans couldn't watch Liz and Dallas as they discovered that the Egyptians were by far a more advanced race than those sitting round a box watching The Hoff wave his arms around and spout rubbish. There was however no evidence of Egypt's Got Talent or The Tut-Factor in all the research.
Anyway, thank goodness for all those iPlayery thingies, at least making a choice is not required and I am sure that those that voted for the old bloke singing "Tie My Kangeroo Down, Sport." last night (may also not have occurred) can still now sit down and watch a much less intelligent programme without the need of voting off either Osiris or Anubis ahead of tomorrow's next gripping show.
Tuesday 31 May 2011
Monday 30 May 2011
Coming To A Cinema Near You.
From Friday
Coming to a cinema near you
A story like no other.
A story of food.
A story of burgers.
A story of a job.
THE DIARY OF A MacDONALD'S KID
Monday 16th May
Started my new job today, £4.92p an hour! Thank you so much MacDonald's, in ten years I shall have enough money to buy that iPhone.
Tuesday 17th May
Flipped ten burgers today before dropping one on the floor. Gave the eleventh to an ugly bloke who came in. Watched him eat it from behind a pillow, don't think he noticed all them things sticking to it.
In the afternoon some awesome crumpet came in for a Big Mac. Resisted the urge to comment on her impressive big ones. I just popped off to the bathroom as quick as I could.
Wednesday 18th May
Accidentally I got too close to Kelly this morning. I apologised, but she has threatened to report me for sexual harassment all day. She is difficult to avoid in the cramped kitchen, you could get enough meat off her to provide the supply for a week.
Thursday 19th May
Got wedged in the doorway with Kelly this morning. I nearly fitted in between her bangers and I really didn't know where to look. She stared right into my eyes and grabbed hold of my nether regions. So much for her reporting me, I feel violated and not in a good way.
Friday 20th May
Got sacked this morning for being sexually aggressive to Kelly. I wouldn't touch her with a ten foot french fry. Anyway starting a new job at Burger King on Monday, so I don't care.
Coming soon
The Diary Of A Burger King Kid
Kelly's Revenge
Saturday 28 May 2011
Cowelling away.
So people are saying that the great almighty Simon Cowell is losing his grip on world domination. Things he wants are no longer happening and decisions are being made for him. Shame.
This has been brought to a head with the removal of Cheryl Cole, who the good old American audience cannot understand, because of course in America there really is no difference in how people speak across the whole country! So remove someone they can't understand and replace with someone whose name they cannot spell. Much better, especially for the audience that cannot write anyway.
So from the country that bought us unintelligible (c)Rap and the worst kind of lingo from the backstreet's of the "hood" we have to take this preaching of non-comprehension.
This from a country that loves the British accent, as long as it is delivered with a plum in its mouth, or should that be up its arse? They want our ideas, and our people on their shows, then they wish to remove the people from the person.
So what if they don't understand the judging panel, most of the singing you can't understand or even hear over the blaring music anyhow. As long as the moronic audience can see that can of Pepsi on the desk in front of the panel what are the producers worried about?
This has been brought to a head with the removal of Cheryl Cole, who the good old American audience cannot understand, because of course in America there really is no difference in how people speak across the whole country! So remove someone they can't understand and replace with someone whose name they cannot spell. Much better, especially for the audience that cannot write anyway.
So from the country that bought us unintelligible (c)Rap and the worst kind of lingo from the backstreet's of the "hood" we have to take this preaching of non-comprehension.
This from a country that loves the British accent, as long as it is delivered with a plum in its mouth, or should that be up its arse? They want our ideas, and our people on their shows, then they wish to remove the people from the person.
So what if they don't understand the judging panel, most of the singing you can't understand or even hear over the blaring music anyhow. As long as the moronic audience can see that can of Pepsi on the desk in front of the panel what are the producers worried about?
Monday 23 May 2011
A Statement By A Small Mind.
Following my in depth and exploratory investigations via a convert operation within the media and newspaper mediums, I have managed to discover a number of the so-called Super-Injunction stories. I at no point see that these court cases are vindicated and therefore I wish now to expose those that have seeked their secrecy.
The following took place in the last three months. The footballer **** ***** dressed as a leather clad ***** and inserted his **** into a holster for a crowd of *******. During this event ****** **** had his ears repeatedly slapped while he sat upon the racing horse **************. A crowd of nuns were also in attendance and they took great pleasure in ******* the aforementioned footballers ******** while the ears of ****** **** were pinned to the side of a donkey.
The following evening the two above were also joined by ***** ********** for a further event of disgusting ******** and water polo and at half time drank Pims and poured the remainder all over the ******* of the television personality ****** *******. Mr Blobby, another former and shamed TV star also joined the party and along with the long-term out of work ****** ********* entertained those in attendance with an outrageuous and wholy disgusting performance of the scene from the film **** **** ****. This entertained the sick and twisted individuals present and many of them, including **** ******, ******* ******** and ***** *********** also joined in.
The whole event was recorded and a censored version is currently on www.************.com. This reveals none of those present due to clever blurring of faces and ***** and ******** and the animals present. However I am happy to reveal in these passages all of those present and with no shame upon my record.
Unfortunately although this piece was hoped to be released uncensored, events have transpired that now means certain areas have still had to be censored. I am looking for a MP to use his privalages to provide me with a cat island, new glass for my conservatory and to also issue this statement unsensored shortly. Until then I would like to make clear that Mr Blobby never has seeked a super-injunction for these events, and he only wishes to be back in the limelight once again like that little person with the funny blouses and silly beard.
The following took place in the last three months. The footballer **** ***** dressed as a leather clad ***** and inserted his **** into a holster for a crowd of *******. During this event ****** **** had his ears repeatedly slapped while he sat upon the racing horse **************. A crowd of nuns were also in attendance and they took great pleasure in ******* the aforementioned footballers ******** while the ears of ****** **** were pinned to the side of a donkey.
The following evening the two above were also joined by ***** ********** for a further event of disgusting ******** and water polo and at half time drank Pims and poured the remainder all over the ******* of the television personality ****** *******. Mr Blobby, another former and shamed TV star also joined the party and along with the long-term out of work ****** ********* entertained those in attendance with an outrageuous and wholy disgusting performance of the scene from the film **** **** ****. This entertained the sick and twisted individuals present and many of them, including **** ******, ******* ******** and ***** *********** also joined in.
The whole event was recorded and a censored version is currently on www.************.com. This reveals none of those present due to clever blurring of faces and ***** and ******** and the animals present. However I am happy to reveal in these passages all of those present and with no shame upon my record.
Unfortunately although this piece was hoped to be released uncensored, events have transpired that now means certain areas have still had to be censored. I am looking for a MP to use his privalages to provide me with a cat island, new glass for my conservatory and to also issue this statement unsensored shortly. Until then I would like to make clear that Mr Blobby never has seeked a super-injunction for these events, and he only wishes to be back in the limelight once again like that little person with the funny blouses and silly beard.
Sunday 22 May 2011
Ten Things I Wish I Hadn't Done Before The End Of The World
- Had that banana and mango curry.
- Played that music at maximum volume for the whole street/neighbourhood to hear.
- Voted for Katrina and Tom on So You Think You Can Dance.
- Watched the first half of a rugby match, to then find that I had to watch the second half.
- Come onto Gary in the newsagent, who is opening batsman for the "other" side.
- Put cat turds through my neighbours letterbox.
- Bought and read the Daily Mail.
- Phoned Rupert Murdoch and said "Yes I would love every single one of your great values services for a fixed term of 24 months."
- Set the digi box to record Britain's Got Talent.
- Made an idle comment about a footballer on Twitter.
Thursday 19 May 2011
The Secret Diary Of Misty The Cat: 11th May - 18th May
May
Wednesday 11th
That outrageous picture has today been revealed as the winner of the competition. It was proudly displayed on the front page for even more people to see. The shame of it. Stopped inside all day once again. :(
Thursday 12th
Adrian the tortoiseshell was peering through the cat flap this morning while I was eating. I am sure it is about the photo in the paper. I can't even eat in peace now.
Friday 13th
Well, despite everything, I now appear to have struck lucky. It turns out that this competition was just cat photos, and luck would have it, the prize was for a years supply of Whiskas cat food. This is going to be so awesome, my idiot owner only forks out for that boring, horrible shop brand stuff. Just because I lick my arse, eat dirt from the garden and dine regularly on grass and other assorted weeds, doesn't mean that I don't want to eat good food.
Saturday 14th
I ate far too much of the new cat food yesterday and could hardly move from my bed. However at about 8.15pm I was jolted from my slumber by the most hideous of screaming from downstairs. I thought that my idiot owner had brought a woman home and he had just took off his mask.
However it turns out that the sad old fool was just watching the Eurovision song contest. Some of them made old Marvis the Burmese sound pleasant.
Sunday 15th
Had trouble sleeping last night after all that screeching, so slept all day.
Monday 16th
I think someone is looking through my diary, I am sure it was in a different position today.
Tuesday 17th
I am now certain that my diary is being tampered with. I left it in a very specific position and it was definitely moved. I need to keep an eye on it.
Wednesday 18th
There are spies everywhere! I know its not my idiot owner, I am pretty sure he can't read.
Wednesday 11th
That outrageous picture has today been revealed as the winner of the competition. It was proudly displayed on the front page for even more people to see. The shame of it. Stopped inside all day once again. :(
Thursday 12th
Adrian the tortoiseshell was peering through the cat flap this morning while I was eating. I am sure it is about the photo in the paper. I can't even eat in peace now.
Friday 13th
Well, despite everything, I now appear to have struck lucky. It turns out that this competition was just cat photos, and luck would have it, the prize was for a years supply of Whiskas cat food. This is going to be so awesome, my idiot owner only forks out for that boring, horrible shop brand stuff. Just because I lick my arse, eat dirt from the garden and dine regularly on grass and other assorted weeds, doesn't mean that I don't want to eat good food.
Saturday 14th
I ate far too much of the new cat food yesterday and could hardly move from my bed. However at about 8.15pm I was jolted from my slumber by the most hideous of screaming from downstairs. I thought that my idiot owner had brought a woman home and he had just took off his mask.
However it turns out that the sad old fool was just watching the Eurovision song contest. Some of them made old Marvis the Burmese sound pleasant.
Sunday 15th
Had trouble sleeping last night after all that screeching, so slept all day.
Monday 16th
I think someone is looking through my diary, I am sure it was in a different position today.
Tuesday 17th
I am now certain that my diary is being tampered with. I left it in a very specific position and it was definitely moved. I need to keep an eye on it.
Wednesday 18th
There are spies everywhere! I know its not my idiot owner, I am pretty sure he can't read.
Sunday 15 May 2011
TerrorVision
I nearly died last night while watching television.
It was that time of year when you just can't help yourself. It's like looking at that squashed pigeon in the road, or looking at the other lane pile-up seeing if you can see a body, you know you really shouldn't watch it, but you can't help yourself.
Yes, it was that annual horror known to all as the Eurovision song contest. After watching the sickenly cute Lena win last year, this years venue was Germany. The country that once could be relied upon for the most ridiculous spectacles of all, dared to enter a suitably catchy ditty and found themselves with the dubious honour (horror?) of being this years hosts.
So, as told by the song I was proudly wearing new underwear, and having painted my toenails I sat down once again to watch this year's contest.
The shear horror to come was depicted by the three presenters which presented a ridiculous sight from the very beginning. Due to my secret lover Lena competing once again it was left to the presenters to recreate last years excellent winner and totally destroying it in the process. Only highlighted by the original delight arriving, slipping her shoes off and her skirt problems on a double bass.
That horror over, we headed to the main event and the first song from Finland, highlighting the reason for their high suicide rate. After listening to their depressing song, I was heading towards joining the list of casualties.
The fun was raised immediately afterwards however with the mad Bosnian entry, the admittedly catchy Denmark one complete with Jedward hairstyle. Hot on the heels came Lithuania with a theatre style performance and some rather bizarre sign language. Then there was some somersaulting from someone from Hungary.
Sixth up was the horror that is Jedward, complete with lunacy dancing and a mad, infuriating song. So-called second favourite and a worry therefore for what was to come. Sweden provided a catchy tune with a sickenly handsome chap crashing from a glass box. The hope of him being impaled on some huge shard did not sadly come about.
Estonia found some bizarre people dancing among some little buildings, and Greece provided a horrific blend of opera and rap, neither of which could be sung with any skill. The Russian entrant just seemed to want to talk to the audience rather than sing in key.
France provided possibly the best performed song of the night and the most hair, but it was opera so it was never going to win despite it being the bookies favourite. Italy's entry was a nice Jazz number let down by the fact that the artist couldn't really sing.
Then after twelve countries, Switzerland provided the first bit of true crumpet and kept me entertained despite the fact the the poor old dear clearly run out of words for her song. The United Kingdom provided what turned out to be the best performer for several years, but I have no idea why.
And then it arrived! The true reason we were all watching, the horror that we expect from the Eurovision was provided by singers wearing cone hats, and a nice young lady on a unicycle. Madness, total madness, thank you Moldova.
Next up was my secret lover, lovely Lena from Germany. Starring straight into the camera several times, I was without doubt lifting my phone to vote (it was on my lap). However, what talent she showed once again was destroyed by the most maudlin song imaginable and bizarre dancers in skin-tight suits (not in a good way).
The next two countries flew by, with the happy clappy Romanian's, and the fringe of Austria. Then it arrived, the one that was eventually going to get it. Azerbaijan featured a great tune and a buxom young lady who kept singing "come to me", and I think I nearly did.
Slovenia provided more crumpet in boots and bodice, and Iceland provided a song by a dead writer (at least he didn't have to watch the show). It was a nice song though and should have done better. Spain was a mad waving performance with a very nice lady in a tight dress. Ukraine's entry was a poor song, but with some stunning sand painting.
The final two provided some Austin Powers like ladies from Serbia and a noisy and scary monstrosity from Georgia.
And then it was all over. Well, if only. The endless voting then took place, highlighted by mad people and lots of cleavage, and a close contest until near the end, when the buxom young lady and her friend finally sealed it. It was a worthy winner from the duet, and they were a nice pair, and he wasn't too bad a singer either.
It was that time of year when you just can't help yourself. It's like looking at that squashed pigeon in the road, or looking at the other lane pile-up seeing if you can see a body, you know you really shouldn't watch it, but you can't help yourself.
Yes, it was that annual horror known to all as the Eurovision song contest. After watching the sickenly cute Lena win last year, this years venue was Germany. The country that once could be relied upon for the most ridiculous spectacles of all, dared to enter a suitably catchy ditty and found themselves with the dubious honour (horror?) of being this years hosts.
So, as told by the song I was proudly wearing new underwear, and having painted my toenails I sat down once again to watch this year's contest.
The shear horror to come was depicted by the three presenters which presented a ridiculous sight from the very beginning. Due to my secret lover Lena competing once again it was left to the presenters to recreate last years excellent winner and totally destroying it in the process. Only highlighted by the original delight arriving, slipping her shoes off and her skirt problems on a double bass.
That horror over, we headed to the main event and the first song from Finland, highlighting the reason for their high suicide rate. After listening to their depressing song, I was heading towards joining the list of casualties.
The fun was raised immediately afterwards however with the mad Bosnian entry, the admittedly catchy Denmark one complete with Jedward hairstyle. Hot on the heels came Lithuania with a theatre style performance and some rather bizarre sign language. Then there was some somersaulting from someone from Hungary.
Sixth up was the horror that is Jedward, complete with lunacy dancing and a mad, infuriating song. So-called second favourite and a worry therefore for what was to come. Sweden provided a catchy tune with a sickenly handsome chap crashing from a glass box. The hope of him being impaled on some huge shard did not sadly come about.
Estonia found some bizarre people dancing among some little buildings, and Greece provided a horrific blend of opera and rap, neither of which could be sung with any skill. The Russian entrant just seemed to want to talk to the audience rather than sing in key.
France provided possibly the best performed song of the night and the most hair, but it was opera so it was never going to win despite it being the bookies favourite. Italy's entry was a nice Jazz number let down by the fact that the artist couldn't really sing.
Then after twelve countries, Switzerland provided the first bit of true crumpet and kept me entertained despite the fact the the poor old dear clearly run out of words for her song. The United Kingdom provided what turned out to be the best performer for several years, but I have no idea why.
And then it arrived! The true reason we were all watching, the horror that we expect from the Eurovision was provided by singers wearing cone hats, and a nice young lady on a unicycle. Madness, total madness, thank you Moldova.
Next up was my secret lover, lovely Lena from Germany. Starring straight into the camera several times, I was without doubt lifting my phone to vote (it was on my lap). However, what talent she showed once again was destroyed by the most maudlin song imaginable and bizarre dancers in skin-tight suits (not in a good way).
The next two countries flew by, with the happy clappy Romanian's, and the fringe of Austria. Then it arrived, the one that was eventually going to get it. Azerbaijan featured a great tune and a buxom young lady who kept singing "come to me", and I think I nearly did.
Slovenia provided more crumpet in boots and bodice, and Iceland provided a song by a dead writer (at least he didn't have to watch the show). It was a nice song though and should have done better. Spain was a mad waving performance with a very nice lady in a tight dress. Ukraine's entry was a poor song, but with some stunning sand painting.
The final two provided some Austin Powers like ladies from Serbia and a noisy and scary monstrosity from Georgia.
And then it was all over. Well, if only. The endless voting then took place, highlighted by mad people and lots of cleavage, and a close contest until near the end, when the buxom young lady and her friend finally sealed it. It was a worthy winner from the duet, and they were a nice pair, and he wasn't too bad a singer either.
Saturday 14 May 2011
Till Death Us Do Part.
On Thursday night I switched on to see someone die. Rather disappointingly it turned out to be neither Simon Cowell, or indeed Ant or Dec.
Presented with care, and informative at all times and far from the scandal and controversy that the tabloids screamed from their front pages. The endless scandal and controversy that those same tabloids thrive upon.
However it turned out to be a very honourable, real person. A family man who had lived a wonderful, full and happy life. His death was inevitable, and surrounded by his family, he kindly let the cameras film those sad, final days.
Presented with care, and informative at all times and far from the scandal and controversy that the tabloids screamed from their front pages. The endless scandal and controversy that those same tabloids thrive upon.
There was none of that here, this was a quality programme that the gutter press could only dream of being able to replicate.
Gerald was an everyday man who had kindly let us into this, the most private time of his life, in those few minutes of conversation in the programme he showed more respect and humility than most would show in their lives. A man that you wished you had known and knew you never would.
A man who was given a good innings of 84 years but was awaiting the end at the hands of that most foul of diseases, Cancer.
Yet despite being frightened of the end coming, he was more than willing to look back on his fulfilled life with us and share those precious memories.
Presented with such understatement by the BBC, this was never sensationalist television.
I raise a glass to you Gerald wherever you now may be.
I understand that Channel 4 and 5 are currently fighting over the rights to show a live embalming programme with Keith Chegwin. I can only hope he isn't just presenting the show.
Wednesday 11 May 2011
The Secret Diary Of Misty The Cat: 4th May - 10th May
May
Wednesday 4th
I found my idiot owner watching a video this morning. It was a grainy video of the garden and in infra-red. I sat on the back of the chair and watched it. Although it wasn't clear, it depicted the incident that I heard at four the other morning.
Hamish the American Shorthair burst into the garden through a bush all teeth showing and attacked Barry the Persian while he was nibbling on some grass. He pinned him to the ground near the gnomes and laid into him for five minutes. I have never seen so much fur flying.
At the end of the fight a completely startled Barry was dumped unceremoniously into the pond, where he looked like he was nibbled by the goldfish.
Thursday 5th
My idiot owner gave me a table this morning asking me to select a food for the next month.
He wanted me to put a cross in one box. How insane! I numbered them one to six instead.
Friday 6th
There was no food for me this morning when I got up, apparently there needs to be a recount, with hope for food later today. :(
Saturday 7th
Slept all day due to lack of food yesterday.
Sunday 8th
I was looking through the paper this morning and was horrified to find that my idiot owner had sent a compromising picture of me in. You could see everything, it is an outrageous infringement of my privacy. All he was after was a prize, he has no morals. I am thinking of going to Europe over this.
Monday 9th
I went out the garden this morning and had a stroll down the street. I am sure someone was following me. I think it is the catarazzi.
Tuesday 10th
Slept in a dark room all day with a pillow over my head. I am getting very self conscience about this, I have lost all respect I never had for my idiot owner.
Thursday 5th
My idiot owner gave me a table this morning asking me to select a food for the next month.
Friday 6th
There was no food for me this morning when I got up, apparently there needs to be a recount, with hope for food later today. :(
Saturday 7th
Slept all day due to lack of food yesterday.
Sunday 8th
I was looking through the paper this morning and was horrified to find that my idiot owner had sent a compromising picture of me in. You could see everything, it is an outrageous infringement of my privacy. All he was after was a prize, he has no morals. I am thinking of going to Europe over this.
Monday 9th
I went out the garden this morning and had a stroll down the street. I am sure someone was following me. I think it is the catarazzi.
Tuesday 10th
Slept in a dark room all day with a pillow over my head. I am getting very self conscience about this, I have lost all respect I never had for my idiot owner.
Monday 9 May 2011
A Small Mind, A Huge Member.
I thought I would share with you that I auditioned for an adult movie once. I call it an adult movie, sounds better than a porno doesn't it. No? OK, fair enough. Anyway, just my arrival was quite an eventful situation and I thought that I would share that with you first.
I arrived at the "establishment" one quiet, and actually in my defense, a cold morning. A creepy, sneaky little building on the outskirts of town. They had an intercom which listed several companies, but it was obvious which one I was after, didn't sound like it would be "Crafty Caterers", or "Blind That Light, so I settled for pressing the button for "Erectile Functions". Thankfully it was the right one and there was a big dong (yeah baby) and the door latch released.
I made myself up the shaft like staircase and entered smoothly and without a hitch through the doorway at the top. Upon entering I was met by a man in leather trousers.
'Hello there' he said, 'you have come too early.'
'How can you tell with my trousers on?' I replied, 'Is there a stain?'
He looked at me, I looked at him, he looked at me, who wouldn't.
'Anyway' he said 'Thanks for coming.'
I went to say something, he stopped me with a wave of his hand.
'If you could go through to the other room, enter that passage there...'
'Sorry I can't see her' I replied.
'I mean the corridor' he corrected with a sigh, 'Follow it down to the end and enter...' he paused and looked at me, then finished '...the door on the left.'
I did as requested and entered a room full of people seated in chairs around the room walls.
They were an interesting lot, an awesome array of men and ladies of all shapes and sizes. Let me be clear I checked the sizes mainly of the ladies, as I am a mans man.
I was looking forward to working with these ladies in, of course a professional capacity, despite the fact that I had come early at the interview. And sadly this time it was true...
I wanted to share more with you now, but I have got myself overexcited remembering this now and have got to clear something up...
I arrived at the "establishment" one quiet, and actually in my defense, a cold morning. A creepy, sneaky little building on the outskirts of town. They had an intercom which listed several companies, but it was obvious which one I was after, didn't sound like it would be "Crafty Caterers", or "Blind That Light, so I settled for pressing the button for "Erectile Functions". Thankfully it was the right one and there was a big dong (yeah baby) and the door latch released.
I made myself up the shaft like staircase and entered smoothly and without a hitch through the doorway at the top. Upon entering I was met by a man in leather trousers.
'Hello there' he said, 'you have come too early.'
'How can you tell with my trousers on?' I replied, 'Is there a stain?'
He looked at me, I looked at him, he looked at me, who wouldn't.
'Anyway' he said 'Thanks for coming.'
I went to say something, he stopped me with a wave of his hand.
'If you could go through to the other room, enter that passage there...'
'Sorry I can't see her' I replied.
'I mean the corridor' he corrected with a sigh, 'Follow it down to the end and enter...' he paused and looked at me, then finished '...the door on the left.'
I did as requested and entered a room full of people seated in chairs around the room walls.
They were an interesting lot, an awesome array of men and ladies of all shapes and sizes. Let me be clear I checked the sizes mainly of the ladies, as I am a mans man.
I was looking forward to working with these ladies in, of course a professional capacity, despite the fact that I had come early at the interview. And sadly this time it was true...
I wanted to share more with you now, but I have got myself overexcited remembering this now and have got to clear something up...
Wednesday 4 May 2011
The Secret Diary Of Misty The Cat
I was tidying the cats camp yesterday in the spare room and came across a rather surprising item. Mixed up in issues of Cathouse, Playpuss and Barely Neutered was a leather bound diary. I was amazed, I had never realised that my cats were that intelligent, to think that they could write truly amazes me. So much so, I thought that I would sneak a regular look at the journal and share it with you.
The Secret Diary Of Misty The Cat
After the big event I slept all day to regain my strength.
The Secret Diary Of Misty The Cat
April
Wednesday 27th
Woke up to a most horrendous itch this morning. Had a scratch and went back to sleep.
Thursday 28th
I spent an hour and a half in the bathroom this morning getting myself spruced up for the big day tomorrow. Combed my fur with a toothbrush and scrubbed my bum with my idiot owners flannel. I am sure he won’t notice.
Needed also to trim my nails, but couldn’t find the nail cutters. However I managed to make them smarter on the living room sofa. Made a bit of a mess though, but not to worry.
My brother Adrian was trying on his tuxedo just now, he looks like a gangster. Think we shall need to take a shotgun to the wedding tomorrow just to complete the look.
Friday 29th
Rose early for the big day, it wasn’t even ten o’clock when I came down and had some food.
Took me a while to put my dress on, kept getting my claws caught in the lace. Finally looked the part though with my hat on. It fitted over my ears quite snugly.
Unfortunately I lay on the tatty sofa to watch the ceremony and next thing I knew they were driving in some old car with one of those scary flying things over head. All that trouble and I missed the whole thing.
Saturday 30th
After the big event I slept all day to regain my strength.
May
Sunday 1st
A lovely new month, and on the calendar this time is a Dalmatian chained up, so much better than last months Chiwawa in the stocks.
My idiot owner was trying to type on his computer this afternoon. Oh didn’t I have fun helping him.
Monday 2nd
Woke at four this morning to the most horrendous noise coming from the garden. A scuffle went on for about five minutes and ended in a huge splash in the pond. I sneaked out to have a look when all had gone quiet and found Barry the Persian from down the street was climbing out of the pond. He told me he had got in a scuffle with Hamish the American Shorthair from up the street.
Went and slept for the rest of the day after all that excitement.
Tuesday 3rd
My idiot owner was trying to fix the pond this morning when I got up, apparently something had happened that had caused a leak. I didn’t want to tell him what, because he doesn’t know I can talk.
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