Saturday, 25 October 2008

Sunday 20 January 2008

I have tried. I really have.

I was patient over the 'flu episode (now thankfully over). I did not take life over the "Bullseye"-calling that blighted my new year celebrations. I have even resisted the temptation to push a turd through the letterbox belonging to those wretched note-writing cats. But, this time, fate has gone TOO far. A man can only be pushed a certain distance until he cracks and I have crossed that oh-so-fine line AND been shoved a long way beyond it

It may be recalled that my life contains both delight and torment in the shape of an individual named Ewan. The former is my partner's two-year-old nephew; a delighful young gentleman who inspires respect, affection and amusement in all who meet him. The second is a pea-brained mollusc. A "dog", belonging to one of my partner's work colleagues. The hound inspires nothing save exasperation with his pus-headed chirpiness. But now a problem worse than the pre-Christmas singing of the cats and - yes - worse even than "the note" has appeared to lay waste to my peaceable, orderly life. Brace yourself.

For Ewan - the mutt, as opposed to the winning, affable toddler, - and prepare yourself, for this may cause trauma or, at the least, tea-spillage - Ewan IS ON A LEAFLET. A leaflet!!! Available to the general public!!! My partner works for the County Council's Countryside Service, and it is on a leaflet encouraging canine exercise on a particular site that this upstart features. I am utterly, utterly barkless. Witness this travesty for yourself:

On the left, in the pink (hmm...) stands Bradley, one of my partner's colleagues (not the partner of Ewan, however, to give him his due). Ewan poses effeminately on the right.

Why can't I be on a leaflet? I want to be on a leaflet. My partner says the leaflet was produced some time before she started working for the Council. This means nothing - can the Council not find a PROPER canine celebrity to endorse their leaflets? Is this what my council tax pays for? I want to be on a leaflet. It should not be left to some pretty-boy maggot to pose and appear on notice-boards around the county. That is MY job. Grrrowl.

As if this were not enough, I have recently been violated by a woman. I was in the park with Maisie the day before yesterday and an eighteen-month-old white Alsation young lady, whom I have never met previously, ran directly up to me and planted a HUGE sloppy kiss upon my lips. I was furious, but before I could splutter my protests, she ran back to her partner and I was left to the disrespectful echoes of Maisie's guffaws. For goodness' sake. I am not a sexual plaything. I may be devastatingly attractive and charismatic, but that does NOT issue a carte blanche to any random young lady to come up and molest me. I feel soiled.

My partner says that I should not finish this blog entry until I have found something nice to say about Ewan. So here is a picture of him helpfully assisting me in opening a recent Christmas gift of a rubber chicken from my partner's granny. I was most grateful for his aid. God bless him:

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrowl. I want to be on a leaflet.

Good night.
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