Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Waiter! My Cake Has A Postcode

I bet you're are sitting in front of your desk top, lap top, tablet, iPhone, crystal ball, Ouija board, tea leaves, or whatever other device you use to commune with the outside world, wondering where this week's blog post has got to. Well, here it is, a day late I know, but better late than never, and I do have a very good excuse. You see, yesterday four humans decided to take a leap of faith and get together for a long, boozy, public holiday Monday lunch at our house. Many of my regular readers will already know the two lady humans responsible for the @Whatdoingdugal and @clingycat Twitter accounts. Well, they indicated to my staff that they would be in our area and would like my staff to pass on the message to yours truly that they would like to get together. I suggested to my staff that they should invite them to lunch, which they did, and guess what. Neither of them were axe murderers, despite one of them coming from Adelaide. They were two very nice ladies who arrived with a car load of cats to whom the Twitter accounts belong. 

There was Dugal, Wicket, McGonagall, Jazz and Captain Wormsparrow. Seeing all these cats pouring out of their staff's car one by one I began to worry about the safety of poor little Baci - our baby guinea pig who's diminutive size and large ears make him a dead ringer for a mouse, apart from his obviously tailless butt, but I don't think cats would notice that small, but important difference. I shouldn't have worried though because the cats behaved with great decorum and anyway, my staff always wanted to have curtains with that freshly shredded look. The lady from Adelaide said that it is the very latest fashion in all the best houses in Adelaide and everyone knows what a progressive city Adelaide is.

So, while the cats chased Baci up a tree (If you've ever watched five cats chase a guinea pig up a tree, and lets face it, who hasn't, you'll know what was an entertaining sight that can be.), my staff, the cats' staff, Boris and I sat down to a sumptuous lunch of quiche (whatever that is), salad and a cake so big that it had it's own post code. Zip code if you are an American. Believe me there is nothing zippy about Australia Post. Finally I slurped up the last bit of lettuce and emitted a soft, gentlemanly burp. Lunch was over and it was time to see how Baci and the pussy cats were getting along. Very well as it happens. Baci had made his way to the very thinnest twig of our big paperbark tree . The five cats obviously thought that he would be most comfortable there, not to mention safe from predators. Dugal and Wicket were on the nearest branch that would hold their weight. They said they were making sure nothing could get Baci while he slept on his twig and Jazz, McGonagall and Captain Wormsparrow were on the ground looking up at him "in case he slipped" as they explained.

My staff "sprang" into action. I use the word "sprang" reluctantly because my staff don't rally spring as such. More sort of...... ooze, if you know what I mean. Anyway, you get my drift - they were anxious to help. My staff oozed into the bedroom and oozed out again carrying a bed sheet. The four humans carried it into the garden and held it spread out, one human at each corner - all yelling at Baci to jump into it. But Baci being only eight weeks old does not yet understand the weird noises that humans like to call English and so he stayed put. Dugal's human suggested that my male staff should throw me up to Baci's level so that I could explain the situation to him. I gave her my best glare and vowed to pee on her the very first chance I got. In the end, as luck would have it Baci yawned and stretched and fell off of his twig, landing neatly in the centre of the bed sheet along with a surprisingly large amount of bush chocolate for such a small animal. Obviously the fall frightened him. So that just left Dugal and Wicket and neither of them had the slightest intention of jumping into a bed sheet held by humans, and lets face it, who can blame them. Two hours later the humans were still there, hoarsely calling "Here kitty kitty, jump down now. It'll be dark soon." Dugal and Wicket just stared balefully at us all and refused to budge. Finally my female staff said she'd call the fire brigade. This she did, and within half an hour a fire engine turned up and spewed out half a dozen hunky fireman which made the human ladies go all girly and swoony while my male staff tried to suck in his stomach and almost gave himself a hernia. In less than ten minutes the fireman had the cats out of the tree and were on their way to accident and emergency to have their wounds treated.

The sun was setting behind the paperbark tree as the cats and their humans crammed themselves into their car and drove off into the dusk. I turned to my pal Boris and smiled. "Wow! What a great day," I said. "We must do it again sometime."
 "Ja." Said Boris. "Ich bin vollkommen einverstanden."
Jeez! I hope his English starts to improves soon.

Now then. There is not a single guinea pig on earth who is not concerned by the shut down of the government of the United States of America. If you think there is I bet if you look a little closer you'll find it's a beaver or a mongoose or something less sensible. Now I'm not saying that this IS what has happened. All I'm saying that this is how things appear to be from beyond the borders of the good ol' USA, and I'm sure if this is not correct someone out there will tell me.

Barak Obama spruiked "ObamaCare" before the last election.

Barak Obama is fairly comprehensively re-elected by the majority of Americans - or at least those who could be bothered to vote.

The Democrats proceed with "ObamaCare" and it passes into law.

The Tea Party influenced Republicans spit their dummies because they can't stand the thought of Mr and Mrs Average being able to get good quality medical treatment, saying that the nation can't afford it. Yet I'm willing to bet that most of those nice Tea Party folk would be only to happy to spend trillions of greenbacks bombing Syria or any other nation who have the temerity to actually use the chemical weapons that the USA sold them, back to the stone age.

Now, in most democracies here's what would happen. The Republicans would concede that the electorate voted for ObamaCare or Folk-I-Don't-Agree-With-Care or whatever you like to call it and not have a hissy fit which threatens the American economy - and the rest of the World's come to that.

They would go to the next election with a promise to repeal the ObamaCare legislation and then follow through with that pledge if they are elected.

Then if the Democrats threaten to block that legislation they can point to the fact that they went to the election with a pledge to repeal ObamaCare and therefore have a mandate to do so. That is democracy isn't it? Maybe not. Please tell me.

Boris' Bit
Ich bin sehr grateful zat most of Billy's readers said zat zey could understand mein last scribblinks.  Ich bin trying very hard to improve mein Englisch, but ven ze only vuns you haf to practice on are ein acht wochen old baby und ein hairy lump of lard it is sehr difficult.

 



2 comments:

  1. MOL I can imagine how both female staff turned being girly and swooned! You just have to read them on Twitter when it comes to any footy player :)

    If it come to USA I use to say nothing publicly and will stick with this. I just shake my head in silence ... did I say it´s sometimes soo embarrassing being a German? Well, could be worse ;)

    Boris, you´re doing really great with English. Some say, German´s so bloody difficult but those are mostly English natives who have no idea how bloody difficult English is ... I just like to mention the funny past tenses they have which are completely unknown in German, or that it´s a dang irregular language with irregular rules - just let me point to this lovely poem The Chaos

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