Pizza Mutt

Apologies for the tardiness of this, my latest, entry. It's not, truth be told, that I have been particularly busy, just lazy. I thought about sitting down and writing something a few times over the weekend but couldn't be bothered. They do say though that it's the thought that counts, so that's okay then. I hope my candour is refreshing. I find that honesty is generally the best policy, unless of course the long man or the clippy cloppy woman are asking who has chewed the letters up or where their slippers have gone. In situations like that I find, rather than honesty, the best policy is to try and look terribly cute and say nothing.

The scratchy chinned man and his special friend came to visit me this weekend and he introduced me to the delights of pizza. Apparently they come in many varieties but the particular pizza he shared with me was called an "American Hot". I'm not sure if they use actual Americans, but they certainly make it hot. Not only did it make my tongue feel all burny, but it made my other end burny too. I could have done with discovering Hot Americans when the back yard was still covered in snow and I was squatting out there freezing my bits off.

I have discovered a voyeuristic side and have taken to spending great chunks of my day sat on the long man's bed and staring out of the window. There isn't actually anything of interest ever seems to happen on this street. I have seen, on the television thingy downstairs, a show called Coronation Street, and that seems much more interesting. They have murders and all sorts of shenanigans. Sat in the window upstairs the most interesting thing I see out there is the filthy cat that lives across the road. Sitting in the window, day in, day out, licking his dirty privates and giving me the evils. Oh how I'd love to bump into the furry little scum bag face to face, see how cocky he is then!

My time at the window, contemplating life, has revealed in me a previously unknown creative side, and I've written a little poem on a subject close to my heart. It's called "Nemesis" and I offer it for your perusal here dear reader......

Nails down a chalkboard,

Bills landing on the mat,

But nothing's really quite as bad,

As a dirty, filthy cat.

Hissy, scratchy creatures,

Full of bloody fleas,

I wish I had a shotgun,

I'd shoot 'em in the knees.

I'd put them in a bin bag,

I'd take away their cream,

I'd add a brick and tie it up

And throw them in a stream.

I've seen so many things,

But nothing quite as pretty,

As a cardboard box that's set on fire

Filled with a screaming kitty!