Monday, 5 April 2010

Watching paint dry

Welcome, dear reader, to the fiftieth entry in my now legendary and universally adored blog. Thanks to you all for your support.

And now that the platitudes are out of the way I'll crack on with my inane ramblings.

Firstly, as much as it sticks in my craw to have to admit it, I may have understimated the long man. Either that or, as is more likely, I have very much overestimated the quite obviously tin pot organisation to whom he'd applied when looking for his new job. He's only gone and got the position, leaving me wondering just how many backsides he has had to sniff to swing that one. Oh, and get this, a man's best friend is, supposedly, his dog. Ergo, I am the long man's best friend, but did he bother to tell me about his little bit of good luck? Did he buggery. I only found out about it via Facebook. Bloody typical.

For a change, and a very pleasant change indeed, the news that he has wrangled himself a half decent job has kept a smile on his face. The clippy cloppy woman took a couple of days off work as the weekend approached and continued her love affair with the noisy, sucky thing and the tins of smelly stuff. I wouldn't mind quite so much if not for the fact that I heard her mention she wants to move house. If that is to be the case, then why the hell does she have to keep cleaning this one? Pointless in the extreme if you ask me. Shame she never asks me, I could make her life so much easier if she did.

The little people have gone to stay with their father for a couple of weeks. Apparently this time of year is called "Easter" and is some kind of religious festival where, as far as I can ascertain, people celebrate a magic rabbit that lays chocolate eggs. Religion is something of a mystery to me, I just can't get my head around it.

On Friday I was sent to stay with Audrey et al in Salford so that the long man and the clippy cloppy woman could (surprise surprise) go off gallavanting around North Yorkshire to a place called "Whitby" on that damned Vespa of theirs. As far as I can figure they planned to drink lots of that stuff that makes you wee a lot and wobble, eat burgers and then sleep in a field. They really know how to have a good time eh?

My weekend was possibly marginally more fun than theirs. Also marginally more fun than having your tail nailed to a plank. In case you've missed the sarcasm here let me be frank, it was crap. It was as boring as a boring thing, and then some. Audrey stayed out of the way for the most part, she's not daft. The shouty woman spent most of the first day smearing that coloured stuff all over the walls in the kitchen and left me to my own devices. I just lay in the doorway and watched.

The clicky ankled lady spent most of her time making "tut" noises and getting in the shouty woman's way. Getting in the shouty woman's way is not to be advised. Unless you like her being more shouty than usual. I personally am not even keen on the level of shoutiness she already seems to have attained. My nerves were in tatters.

Once all the colouring in, tutting and shouting ended I retired to my favourite spot in front of the hot, flickery, burny thing in the clicky ankled lady's living room, anticipating an evening of quality time and biscuits. I do like quality time. And biscuits. Next thing I know, the clicky ankled lady gets her coat on and buggers off out for the evening without so much as a by your leave. And there was I thinking the whole point of my having to stay the night in Salford was so that I would have a little company. I might as well have just stayed at home.

The following day wasn't as bad though. Obviously riddled by guilt the long man and the clippy cloppy woman decided to treat me to a lovely, long walk around Worden park for the first time in ages. Not before time too. Free of the lead at last I made it my mission to get as dirty and stinky as I possibly could before getting back in the metal box thingy, and let me tell you - Worden park in April was designed for getting a puppy filthy. I was chest deep in mud at several points during the walk. The river at this time of year is much deeper too, more than deep enough for swimming in. I was having a fine old time bounding through the undergrowth, squelching through the marshy bits and diving in and out of the stinking water when the long man decided he wanted to play with that bloody tennis ball of his. He took it out of his pocket and proceeded to throw it around with gay abandon. I have now, however, put an end to that particular annoyance. I accidentally on purpose managed to lose it in the river. It took me two attempts, the first time it bobbed to the surface for the long man to retrieve. But the second time, being the clever puppy I am, I ensured that I put a hole in the damned thing first so that it sank like a brick. I did feel a pang of guilt when I saw the look on his face as he realised it was gone forever, but I soon got over that. Life, dear reader, is too short for regrets. And it is too bloody short for chasing tennis balls around.

I'm getting a bit of peace and quiet today since the long man and the clippy cloppy woman have gone over to Salford to arrange with their ne'er do well friends an open day for the scooter club next Sunday. Whatever keeps them out of my fur is all good so far as I am concerned, just so long as they don't expect me to be going to the open day with them.


  1. Well done Ronnie on losing your tennis ball. You don't want to be bothered with all that 'running around' nonsense when you could be sniffing the daffs and er, lots of other things...

    Muttie says 'congrats' to the Long Man on getting a job. And she loves Whitby too, something about Dracula?

    Milt x

  2. Well, I guess thats the biscuit job gone out the window then? Hmmm, maybe I could get The Owner to quit her boring typing job and work in the McVities Digestive factory... That WOULD be yumm! Looks like you had fun, how I wish there was a place like that near us lot! :D

    Frankie x
    P.S The Owner's sisters little one accidentally deleted my blog and trying to restore it now but the laptop keeps crashing whenever I try! Maybe its because Ive been on Facebook too much...

  3. Hello Ronnie!
    I know what its like when your owner gets a new job...Especially one you do not like! Personally, I dont think MM should continue with her job at the County Council, but there seems no hope in getting her to leave..She seems relentless. DD is a builder, and personally, he could be building me a Bonio castle but instead he's out doing other tiling and roofing jobs.. Humans these days!

    Ellie x

  4. Gotta love that Ronnie, clever girl!!!