Friday, 25 June 2010

Reserved parking

Yes, yes, yes, I know. The time between my blog entries is getting longer and longer. It's not that I don't care, it's just that the summer has brought with it so many new and interesting opportunities for fun and merriment that I simply don't know whether I'm coming or going at the moment.

The little people recently spent a week down south in Brighton with their father, whilst the little long man came to my house to spend a week with HIS father. Talk about musical parenting. The little long man took up residence in the little peoples room and is no where near as careful about ensuring the door is closed properly, allowing me unrestricted access to all the chewy little people things. I have had a fine old time stealing and stashing away for safe keeping as much contraband as a baby puppy can carry. Of course most of my booty has since been reclaimed by that infernal clippy cloppy woman and the long man but, due to the shear scale of my felony, there are still a fair number of pieces of prime swag lying as yet undiscovered around the house a whole fortnight after the return of the gruesome twosome.

The long man has, at long last, gotten out from under my paws and started his new job as a carer for the mentally bewildered. He seems to think that the Karma of his noble toil will in some way balance out all the crappy things he's done in the past and benefit him spiritually. My hairy arse it will. I doubt very much he would ever be considered for Sainthood at any rate. It's only a matter of time before he commits some form of indescretion again and spoils it all. It is to be hoped that he cares for his ward better than he cares for his best friend (That's me just in case you're in any doubt.) or he'll be back down the job centre faster than you can say "it was an accident" or "corporate manslaughter".

The long man and I haven't been making our usual visits to Worden park of late. Partly because of him now having to work for a living rather than being kept like some kind of third rate gigolo by the clippy cloppy woman and partly because the chap from the council that looks after the park has told us we're no longer welcome. In my opinion said individual is nothing more than a jumped up little jobsworth with a Napolean complex. It was a particularly hot day when last the long man and I visited our most favourite park in the whole wide world and, as you all probably by now are very well aware, I do love a nice swim. Swimming is one of my most favourite pastimes and these two factors combined led to my decision to cool down by plunging headlong into the pond where the flappy, feathery flying things that float live. They, that is to say the flappy, feathery flying things that float, are not what you would call the most sociable of creatures. Bloody ignorant little sods if you ask me. And so, as I dived gracefully, athletically and majestically into the cool, clear water they went absolutely berserk. Flapping and quacking and generally making a right kerfuffle. All these shenanigans brought the aforementioned Gestapo, sorry - council, officer careering through the trees toward the long man.

Now what the long man lacks in sense he more than makes up for in stature and so, as the petulant parky got closer to the long man, his pace began to slow until he came to a stop no more than two paces from the long man, who then took two paces forward forcing the local government representative to crane his neck backward if he wanted to continue his tirade. A tirade which was met with the long man's gormless, slack jawed, glassy-eyed frown.

For some reason at this point the jackbooted, litter picking midget's tone took on a much friendlier and far croakier timbre as he explained that dogs swimming in the nature reserve was prohibited and asked if the long man would mind awfully asking me to depart. Now I'm sure the long man in no way meant to come across as a pedant, however after pointing out that a dog is indeed perfectly natural and then enquiring as to just exactly where the bloody signs informing us that the pond was a bleeding nature reserve were pedantic is exactly how he appeared. The upshot of the conversation being that the long man and I are no longer welcome in that part of town. And so it was with heavy heart that, after he'd emptied the poo bag he'd been carrying on the path, and I'd emptied my bowels on the crazy golf course, we left.