Marching On

Possibly the worst blogger in the world

But I'm back, baby!

I am, in fact, back to:

- every day life after two weeks of sun drenched bliss in Jamaica (it was fabulous);

- wondering what possessed me to get two dogs, and whether it is too late to get a refund because they are defective;

- my diet.  This time I have made a diet up all by myself, and today is day four.  I've lost 2 pounds so far and I am really happy with what I am eating;

- trying to get knocked up.  At this point, all I know is that I have ovulated.  When is a mystery that even Scooby would struggle to solve, and the only pesky kid involved was a certain blonde haired boy who was attached to me like a limpet whilst on holiday; and

- debating what to do with my hair.  Again.

All proof that life gets back to normal almost immediately the plane touches the runway.

 

Posted on Thursday, 01 March 2007 at 20:43 in Ministry of Mayhem | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

Insert title here

I really need to get back into the swing of this.

Posted on Tuesday, 31 October 2006 at 22:10 in Ministry of Mayhem | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)

Boy Trouble

The Boy was in trouble this week.

Apparently he was lifting the girls skirts to peek at their knickers.

Mini pervert.

Posted on Sunday, 01 October 2006 at 13:31 in Ministry of Mayhem | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

For Sale

Item 1: One slightly damaged rottweiler (furless paws, electrical burn on tongue).

Aged 21 months, female.  Enjoys bullying puppies, eating wires, and barking at the television.  Very stroppy and prone to dribbling.

Item 2: One black labrador, good as new.

Aged 8 months, male.  Believes he is a cat.  Also enjoys eating electrical equipment. Has a history of knocking things over with his tail.

Item 3: One black cat, reasonable condition.

Aged nearly 4 years, male, incredibly stupid.  He believes he is invisible.  'Nuff said.

Item 4: One tortoiseshell cat, excellent condition.

Aged three years, female.  Very very very vocal.  Enjoys headbutting, crying and winding up dogs.  Scatters kibble over the entire kitchen.

Item 5: One fat orange cat, damaged ears, legs and bowel.

Age unknown, male.  Grumpy.  Enjoys sitting on the bath mat and laying in the sun.

Item 6: One tabby cat, damaged.

Age unknown, female.  Missing one eye, several inches of tail and a lot of brain cells.  Will watch food cook in the oven.  Enjoys attacking quilts.

Item 7: One tabby cat, good condition.

Age unknown, but old.  Female.  Enjoys beating up cats, dogs and unsuspecting humans.

Item 8: One ginormous white cat, missing fur and teeth.

Age unknown, male.  Will eat entire body weight in food on a daily basis if allowed.

Posted on Friday, 08 September 2006 at 20:47 in Demonic dog, Devilish cats, Ministry of Mayhem | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

Ex. Ter. Minate

I was somewhat surprised to come downstairs this morning and find a remote controlled Dalek on top of the television.  I am fairly sure it was not there when I went to bed.

I was also surprised to find that both Zach and Lila are very afraid of it.

That doesn't stop me sending it on patrol around the living room, though.

Posted on Monday, 04 September 2006 at 20:12 in Ministry of Mayhem | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBack (0)

Farewell

I'm in trouble.

My nefarious activities have finally caught up with me, and I fully expect the police to arrive at any moment to take me away.

It is true.  I read publicly accessible blogs and am therefore a stalker.

I ask you to remember me whilst I languish in my prison cell.  Could someone please feed the animals for me?

Posted on Tuesday, 22 August 2006 at 22:21 in Ministry of Mayhem | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

Who would have thought...

…that such a small dog could hold such vast quantities of vomit?

Imagine my surprise shortly after breakfast this morning when I came across not one, not two, not three, but seven separate and large pools of dog sick, all in discreet spots around the ground floor. I should have realised that no puddles was a bad sign…

It turns out that Zach Attack! has been eating the small and very very sour apples that grow on our apple tree, and that they don’t really agree with him. He’s a very sweet, but very stupid dog.

It is hard not to feel sorry for Zach when you see his sad little face, with his big brown eyes and droopy ears. Even if the stupid bastard did bring it entirely on himself.

…that Darth Lila could be trusted around my breakfast?

Well, I did. I know, I know. I’m stupid too. I was just munching my toast and Zach threw up again by my foot. It didn’t stop him begging for my toast crust, of course, but it did put me off eating.

Rather than try to clean and eat at the same time, I put my slice of toast on the highest bookshelf in the conservatory. I could see Lila out of the corner of my eye just watching it. That wasn’t a surprise – she likes toast just as much as I do

What was a surprise was when she leapt up on the armchair, stood on the back of the seat and gracefully swiped my slice of toast from its resting place atop my battered copy of Birdsong. Zach merely watched in awe, and then threw up again.

…that a poorly dog would still find time to eat printer paper (in the whole thirty seconds that my back was turned)?

‘Nuff said. Git.

…that the Boy would make it to his 8th birthday in one piece?

I had my doubts, I have to admit. But so far the worst we’ve had is a couple of black eyes, some scabby knees and a handful of detentions for fighting. Happy Birthday to the ratbag!

He’s buggered off to Cornwall for two glorious weeks to visit his new stepmother’s parents. Or it could be her grandparents. I wasn’t actually listening when he told me, because we were in the middle of a thrilling Mario Kart race, where I had joined in after the Boy had completed two laps (he insists on a head start but surely two laps head start is taking the piss even for the second worst player in the world – my mother is the worst ever) and I was still winning. The shame.

…that the United in Fear Scaredy Cat Society meetings would take place in my conservatory? And that two of the three members were in fact dogs?

None of my pets like the hoover. True, none of them take it to the extreme of my parents rottweiler, who barks and bears his teeth at it, but it would be fair to say that all eight live in fear of the Coming of the Hoover.

I needed to hoover the stairs this weekend. I hate doing it, but Charlie and Ozzie had had a huge fight, and the stairs were coated in clumps of orange and white hair. They seem to get some enjoyment from chasing each other, then pinning each other down and headbutting each other. Whatever floats their boat…

The hoover lives upstairs in the back bedroom. Holly and Charlie hid as soon as they saw me pick it up. Charlie, bless his orange cotton socks, got all worked up and ran around trying frantically to hide. Holly dove under the bed.

Ozzie and Willow favour getting on the bed, and then fighting over who can lie where.

Frankie prefers the top of the kitchen counters, which is another story altogether, seeing as the stupid cat still has trouble getting back down.

And Ellie likes the conservatory.

If I had actually got round to hoovering the stairs, all would have been well. The cats would have sulked, the dogs would have cowered and my stairs would have looked a damn sight better.

But the computer was being temperamental. So the Baron had pulled the whole thing out and was busy trying to fix it. He decided he wanted to hoover the several dogs worth of fur out from behind the desk in the hopes that it would magically cure the problem.

So the hoover was in the living room. Ellie was sat on the sofa out in the conservatory trying to look cool and unconcerned (and failing miserably, I might add). The dogs took one look and shot out to join Ellie on the sofa.

All three of them looked petrified, and were trying to hide behind each other. Ellie had jumped on to the back of the sofa, and Zach was precariously balanced next to her, occasionally sniffing her face. Lila was sat in front of them, also trying to look brave (and failing. Her shaking was a bit of a giveaway).

The meeting commenced.

Lila put her huge head down next to Ellie’s little one, so that their noses were touching. Ellie responded with a silent hiss, which Lila ignored. Zach put his head down next to Lila. All three were touching.

Lila then licked Ellie all across her face. Ellie’s expression was priceless, and to be honest, she wasn’t all that impressed with the sheer amount of drool coating her fur. But she still didn’t pull away. Instead, she started to lick Lila’s nose.

Of course, by this time, Zach wanted to join in, and he started to lick Ellie too. Lila wasn’t having that, and bopped him across the head with her paw. He tried to bop her back, but missed and smacked Ellie instead. She glared at him, and bopped him between the eyes.

Meeting adjourned.

…that I am supposed to be writing a report right now?

Ummmmm.

Posted on Monday, 14 August 2006 at 19:17 in Ministry of Mayhem | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

Double fuck

I dyed my hair again.  My roots were showing, my grey was showing, and I was bored.

According to the laws of my hair, any colour hair dye = fucking scarlet.  It doesn't matter what the box says, my hair interprets dye in its own unqiue way.  And that way is to turn a shade of red that rivals a post box.

Oh well.

Posted on Thursday, 10 August 2006 at 22:02 in Ministry of Mayhem | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

If you were a fly on my wall....

"Lila, don't eat Zach's tail"

"Frankie, stop headbutting the microwave"

"Lila, it's a broom.  It won't hurt you"

"Zach, Frankie is not edible"

"Frankie, leave the bloody microwave alone!"

"Charlie, why are you eating Ozzie?  He can't taste THAT good"

"Ellie, me sitting on the toilet is not an invitation for you to sit on my lap.  Go away"

"Willow, stop attacking the quilt.  It hasn't done anything wrong"

"Frankie, stop headbutting the toaster!"

"Zach, you DO NOT HUMP MY BACK!"

"Lila, it is a plastic bag.  You are quite safe"

"Ellie.  I am about to give you fresh food.  You left that all night because you didn't want it.  Why do you insist on starting to eat it as I go to empty your bowl AND THEN GLARE AT ME FOR TAKING YOUR BLOODY FOOD AWAY?!"

"Holly, stop hitting me.  I mean it.  I know you are there.  It's hard not to notice when you have your claws embedded in my nipple"

"Zach, that skirt was clean.  Stop jumping up!"

"Ozzie, if you don't let me groom you NOW, I will be forced to shave your entire bum to get rid of the mats.  Do you want the other cats to laugh at you?"

"Lila, you are a girl.  Why are you mounting Zach?"

"I hate you all.  Leave home NOW"

Posted on Monday, 10 July 2006 at 17:53 in Ministry of Mayhem | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

Bad girl checking in

Ok, so I was bored.

I'm not bored anymore.  Thanks to the evil influence of my sister I have spent a small fortune on some new clothes and a whole new skin routine and I now kill much time in the bathroom buggering around with lotions and potions.

We have also booked a family holiday for February next year.  We are all (and by all I mean myself, the Baron, my parents, my evil sister and deranged nephew, and my evil sister's best friend) going to JAMAICA!!!!!

We will be there for my 29th birthday and the Baron's 30th.  The Boy chimed in that we will be there for his half birthday, but sadly we just miss my parents 30th wedding anniversary and my Dad's birthday.  Not that that will stop us celebrating them whilst we are there :)

However, my main time waster these days is iSketch.  It is tragic just how much time I spend playing that.  Thankfully, the Baron is equally hooked and so we play each other into the wee hours of the morning, or until my eyes close with sleep.

Which is about now....

Posted on Thursday, 06 July 2006 at 21:16 in Ministry of Mayhem | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)

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