Osama bin Hiding

The big news today is that my male staff is about to venture out to do the weekly shopping. This is sure to put him in a foul mood, firstly because it means spending money and secondly because it means spending hours in a supermarket checkout queue with all the other old, fat people. As usual his return from the shops will be accompanied by muttered curses and the slamming of doors and then either Badger or yours truly will be dragged from our comfy bed to be stroked until his blood pressure returns to normal. This usually takes a couple of hours and it's a miracle that Badger and I have not got great bald patches from being over stroked.

The other miracle of note in the news this week is the one supposedly performed by Pope John Paul II. He cured a Nun of Parkinson's Disease and it now looks like he's being fast-tracked to sainthood. Saint? Good grief! This is the man who swept countless instances of child abuse by the clergy under the holy carpet and refused to sanction the use of condoms even if it meant millions of people could be spared the misery of a slow death from HIV/AIDS. Perhaps he could be made the patron saint of paedophiles. Whoops! Did I say say all that out loud? Never mind. Nobody will ever hate me with a face like mine.

The third important news item this week was the death of Osama bin Hiding or whatever his name was. The US military attacked his luxury mansion and shot him in the head. Now we in the West will have to look for another bogie man. Maybe that's why we're currently having a pop at Gaddafi, or am I being too cynical a piggy? Anyway, no wonder it took ten years to find him. We searched every cave in Afghanistan and Pakistan only to discover that he's been slumming it in a million dollar villa next door to a Pakistani military base, watching re-runs of Seinfeld, sloshing back gallons of Budweiser and playing basketball in the backyard with his bodyguards and senior Pakistan military offices.

I got into dreadful trouble with my staff last night when I ejaculated on Badger's back, although I fail to see why this is such a sin. Why do they think is fur is so glossy? I think I would have got away with it but my male staff decided to pick Badger up for a cuddle before his fur had dried and became immediately suspicious when he stroked Badger and received a sticky, wet hand for trouble. I have to admit that this may have been a tactical error on my part and has probably called into question the future of my testostricles once again. Well, I suppose I'd better get off the computer before my male staff returns from his shopping expedition. If he finds me tapping away on his laptop he may start to suspect that the reason behind his recent excess download bills are due to my piggy porn viewing. I can thoroughly recommend http://www.cavychicks.com/ , http://www.piggybabes.com/ and http://www.randyrodents.com/