You’re in trouble

Yogi meowing

The vet says that Yogi needs to have his urine tested for kidney function.
We have to use special cat litter in a tray and shut him in with it until he goes.
The urine will then float on top of litter to be syringed off and brought back to the vet within 12 hours.

Are you taking the piss? I asked him.
No, but you will be, he replied.

Naked jogging

Bum crack

Top life hack. Buy tracksuit bottoms that are slightly too long in the leg for you and you’re treading on the ends.

When you climb the stairs to bed you will find that the bottoms have removed themselves for you along with your pants, saving time in getting straight into bed.

If it ain’t broke…

whisky

 
When I was buying my lunch I saw a bottle of apple flavoured Jim Beam behind the counter, and was tempted.

Just had a little tipple and bleurgh!! Another bottle to sit in the cupboard until a late night gathering runs later than the off-licence closing time!

Death versus the town of Went

Death on horseback

When Death comes marauding and swings his scythe
In swathes of violent hues that split the skies,
The airborne pale hooves thundering
And skeletal soul plundering
Bounce off the town of Went and no one dies.

Death hauls in the reins and draws a fiery arc.
From horizon to horizon burns his bloody mark.
His smirk is now a rictus
And his scream is maledictus
As he stalks the town below like a bony shark.

The people beneath walk about and pay no heed
To the shadowy figure looming on his pale-skinned steed.
Their hearts are resolute
And the town hall spire a one-fingered salute.
To wail and gnash and rend their clothes they have no need.

Nowhere in this town can you find a gun.
No hatred of a different-coloured neighbour to turn a knife upon.
Though different creeds there are aplenty
The prison cells are empty;
No one feels the need to just look after number one.

The townsfolk have planted hedges in communal rows
That trace saw-teeth against the sky like sharpened dominoes.
Death swoops down and cuts his arse,
Shreds his shroud on ground-up glass,
Breaks his wrist and twists his neck and bloods his nose.

Without the tools of his trade Death lies unmasked.
His only hope is that sickness complete his morbid task.
But the hungry here are fed,
Their doctors’ bills to all are spread,
And no natural causes are currently forecast.

Across the land fires burn in merry bands
That scorch the earth and boil the seas and glass the sands.
Yet a patch of green remains,
Lazy blue rivers and leafy lanes,
Where the town hall of the town of Went so proudly stands.

You’re the one I want, money!

Igotbills

 
 
 
With apologies to Grease…
 

I got bills, they’re multiplying
And I’m losing control.
For the power they’re supplying
The cost is terrifying!

 
Better earn more, ’cause I need a break
In the best of Monaco’s hotels.
Better earn more, more than a crude-oil Sheikh
To buy this jacket with gold lamé lapels;
And the matching earrings won’t buy themselves.

You’re the one I want
You are the one I want
Oh Oh Oh, money!
You’re the one I want
You are the one I want
Oh Oh Oh, the one that I need
Oh yes indeed!

I got pipes, the seals are leaking,
And my roof is pouring rain!
I got chairs whose springs are peeking
And my bum will never be the same.

Better earn more, ’cause I have expensive taste;
Pâté de foie gras washed down with Krug Champagne.
Better earn more, every year I have my boobs replaced
And my face pumped with polyurethane;
It doesn’t last, but numbs the pain.

You’re the one I want
You are the one I want
Oh Oh Oh, money!
You’re the one I want
You are the one I want
Oh Oh Oh, the one that I need
Oh yes indeed!

Locksmith lock-in

Prison bars

Graham and I have just been released from 5 hours of prison! We were about to take our pre-lunch constitutional walk today – and found the front door wouldn’t open! And we don’t have a back door…

The shop manager next door tried to open it with keys passed through the window but no luck. So we’ve been waiting all day for the emergency locksmith.

In the end he managed to fix it – but only after squeezing through our neighbours’ small stair window and pirouetting onto our balcony to gain access. The poor guy was a man after my own appetite and not the sveltest locksmith in Sussex – or probably even in the street – so I think he’ll have a few stories to tell his kids at Burger King. Which is where he tells me he and his family were about to go before our emergency call…

Ne me dis pas

Extinguished candle

 
 
Ne me dis pas que je t’aurais aimé.
Ne me dis pas que j’aurais pu te retrouver.
Jure qu’entre nous ça n’aurait jamais pu se transformer
En un amour qui durerait plus que le temps d’une pensée d’été.
 
 
 
Cache à moi les maux que je t’aurais infligés.
Fais comme si mes attentions manquantes jamais ne te manqueraient.
Invente un monde où l’invention servirait
À séparer un rêve enfantin d’une réalité de banalités.

Recommence à vivre à toute allure
Une vie d’espoir dépourvue des engelures
Qu’apporte seul un baiser froid de brûlante nature
Qui ne se différencie guère d’une vive morsure.

Avant qu’on ne se connaisse dans toutes nos faiblesses,
Au lieu de commencer mieux vaut qu’on cesse.
Sans même croiser nos regards au-dessus de notre défunte jeunesse
Permets que nos mains se touchent, se saisissent, se laissent.
 

A magical knot

Knotted band

Once, when I was around 13 or 14, I came across something wondrous and magical. And, as tends to be the case for most of us, but perhaps particularly for a blasé young teenager, I almost, but not quite, failed to recognise its significance.

I was idly playing with an elastic band on the fingers of my hand, performing a cat’s cradle. I was close to my grandmother growing up and so had a raft of skills beloved of the average Georgian schoolgirl. As the band snapped off my fingers I noticed something rather odd. It had formed a simple knot – the simplest form of knot that you might tie in any piece of string – along one side of the band. Continue reading