Wednesday, 30 January 2013

Taxidermy Gone Wrong. Again. Marvellous

Bloody nora. I should really apologise for the (in)frequency of my blog posts lately. Since the upheaval of moving house before Christmas, carnage has ensued in the form of work, childcare and travel - amongst other things. I've been busier than Paris Hilton's mattress.

But hell, I miss writing my blog like crazy, so today I pointed at myself in the mirror and said: "enough is enough girl. Today you are going to do some fun stuff, and it's going to be collecting pictures of comedy dead animals. By the way, have I mentioned how bally good looking you are?"

So my afternoon was sorted. It was going to be dead-animal-tastic.

On a related note, do you know that when you do searches on the internet, Google monitors what you are looking for, and adapts future results accordingly? Suffice to say that if I type 'squirrel' into Google, I am met with a plethora of dead squirrel images. That's why Google is good. It doesn't bother me with loads of images of alive squirrels happily chomping on nuts.

Without further ado, please let me introduce my selection of comedy dead animals .......... it is worth noting that squirrels seem to be a VERY popular choice when it comes to taxidermy. I'm glad I'm not a squirrel, but sometimes I kind of wish that Naughty George was.

Pic.No.1 Gordon Bennett, why on earth would you want this on a shelf in your living room?

Pic.No.2 I like the way these Raccoons have been captured in their natural habitat. The comedy dead pheasant peering in to the right of the photograph is good too

Pic.No.3 What the .........? Who did this? I don't want to go anywhere near their latent psychological variables

Pic.No.4 Hey, yeah! That's gonna look great on my kitchen wall .......

Pic.No.5 The majesty of this beautiful animal has been perfectly captured. It's the hat (fruit bowl?) and sandals that do it

Pic.No.6 Awwwwww. What a wonderful way to honour a beloved family pet

Pic.No.7 Is it me? What's with the glassy-eyed duck?

Pic.No.8 Hello Sailor

Pic.No.9 Do you think someone actually said, "my work here is done"?

Pic.No.10 This is amazing. An attractive yet functional use for a dead pet. I think it is ingenious the way the scroll button has been incorporated into the hamster's neck. And it's front paws are the buttons

So dahlink, I have a million and one things to discuss with you. I shall try and pull my finger out and do more blog posts ..... rest assured I miss you ;-)

Have to dash, Naughty George has just pissed up the side of my fridge. Then he leisurely sauntered back to his basket, farted (it felt like the whole house was filled with tear-gas) and went back to sleep. Total git.

Friday, 18 January 2013

I should be flogged for posting so late .... but finally, here is the Christmas post

Well, what can I say? A happy berluddy new year to you dahlink! That's what. Mwahh x

I know that 2013 is going to be a good one for you .... I can see it in Naughty George's urine. And even in the steam that rises when his yellow stream hits my favourite patio pot plant. It's a bit like reading Tarot cards. I was just born with the gift. And my mutt's piss says that this year you are going to be lucky, lucky, lucky (just like Kylie Minogue .... bless her and her frozen features).

So where to start? Ummm. Well I would have added a new blog post about a week ago if I hadn't been pole-axed by Man-Flu, which is obviously normally terminal. But when I posted my near-death status on Facebook, I was trumped by Gumpher, who declared that he was suffering from Manthrax.

Man alive, that's got to be bad, and if I was Gumph, I would be checking who sent all those Christmas cards. As far as I can work out, Manthrax is generally transmitted by a baddie putting it into an envelope and getting good old Royal Mail to do the deed.

Anyway, I digress. Back to what went on over Christmas. I have never known anything like it. As you know, I moved house just before Christmas, then the whole house was thrown in turmoil again because new windows were fitted. And between all that, I had to do my Christmas shopping ..... which I just about managed to achieve .....

Pic.No.1 This is my Christmas wrapping. There is only one job worse than wrapping presents: Hoovering the stairs

Then when I had done the presents, I kind of noticed that the house wasn't looking very at all festive. I quickly worked out that is was because I hadn't put any decorations up. So I chucked up a fibre optic tree but couldn't be arsed putting all the baubley shit on it.

Pic.No.2 This is this my Christmas decoration

At long last, with all my rigorous Christmas preparations completed, it was time to really start enjoying Christmas. Which in practical terms, meant me and Izzy jumping into the bling-machine and hot-footing it up the motorway to spend Christmas in Leeds with Sarah. You've got to be careful oop North. Last time I was in Leeds, I got lunged at by a whippet in a shop.

Christmas Eve

We arrived at Sarah's on the afternoon of Christmas Eve. Luckily for us, Sarah really loves Christmas so she makes a right effort. Her whole house was decorated with tinsel and shit, and she had two bloody Christmas trees. Izzy eyes nearly popped out on stalks after being subjected to my comparatively rather lame efforts.

Pic.No.2  Things were rather more Christmassy at Sarah's house. I hoped all those presents were mine and then I realised that I should be hoping that they were all Izzy's

Christmas Eve was a normal affair. Naughty George escaped from Sarah's garden and disappeared for a few hours whilst Sarah and I watched a DVD whilst sitting on her Duck Egg sofa, quaffing white wine and stuffing our faces with cake. I like cake I do. It's brown. 

Christmas Day

One of my favourite Christmas traditions when I go up to Leeds, is that we all go and visit Sarah's 'Auntie Christine' in the morning. Basically, Sarah has approximately 123 Aunties and Cousins, and they all descend on Auntie Christine's house in the morning for a soiree. Excellentay Ambassador.

It goes a bit like this. You walk through the door. You get hugged by about 97 people (to explain the differential, approximately 26 are infirm), and then Auntie Christine thrusts a pint of sherry into your hand. 

"But it's only 10.30," I always weakly protest, "I'll spend the rest of the day sleeping on a park bench if I'm not careful."

To which Auntie Christine responds with a wink; "it's Christmas, chuck." 

Chuck is what people call other people in the North of England. They also call each other 'Love' and eat Pigeon sandwiches. Look, I've got some pictures of us at Auntie Christina's house.

Pic.No.3 This was Louise. She's Sarah's sister and she is donning the comedy bow that I brought with me. She is nearly 40 but looks about 15. That's my mate Sarah on the right

Pic.No.4 This is Izzy wearing the comedy bow. A number of people have expressed concern that Izzy hasn't been on the blog for a while. Don't worry, I haven't lobbed her over a fence or anything

Pic.No.5 Hurrah! Finally there is a picture of me ...... albeit wearing the comedy bow

After visiting Auntie Christine, we (Sarah, Izzy, Louise -Sarah's sis, Margaret -Sarah's mum, and me) headed back to Sarah's house ..... only to find that the road had been cordoned off with Crime Scene tape and there were coppers swarming everywhere.

"Yoo hoo! Excuse me!" I shouted to one of the coppers. "What's going on here?"

"We're dealing with an attempted murder at Number 3," he shouted back.

Blimey, it was all action in Leeds. Back in Oxfordshire, I remember the whole community were once shocked when six eggs were taken from a roadside stall without any money being put in the Honesty Box.

The upside of the action was that we had a constant stream of coppers visiting the house to use the facilities and blag cups of tea. Sarah dribbled a bit and almost fainted when one buff young man graced the doorstep.

Anyway, I digress. Back to the Christmas action. Once we had adjusted to the constantly-flashing blue police lights through the living room window, it was present time. Huzzar!

Pic.No.6 Despite me shouting "It's Jesus' birthday, not yours", Izzy opened her presents with gusto

Pic.No.7 Izzy had more presents that you could shake a shitty stick at

Pic.No.8 That's Margaret talking to Izzy that is. And that is Naughty George shaking, sweating and guffing in the background. It was the biggest present-fest I have ever experienced. Marvellous it was.

I had bought Izzy an iPad for her Christmas present because someone told me that she would be entertained up until the age of 18 and I wouldn't have to do any parenting. That's got to be the dog's danglies.

Pic.No.9 It's true! Izzy got her iPad and I didn't see her for three days. All I had to do was fling in some bananas every couple of hours

And to top off a bloody marvellous Christmas, we had a huge feast at the end of the day. I was supposed to supply the turkey, but I left it too late to order one, so we had a Capon instead. Apparently, they are bloody big chickens.

Boxing Day - Bolton Abbey

After stuffing our faces all over the Christmas period, we decided that we needed a bit of exercise to try and get rid of some of the lard that we accumulated. So a gang of us decided to head to Bolton Abbey. Bolton Abbey is a bloody big estate which home to the ruined 12th Century Bolton Priory (actually built in 1154). That's older than the tin of Corned Beef at the back of my cupboard.

Pic.No.10 This is a picture of the path to Bolton Abbey

Pic.No.11 This is the gang skimming stones across the river

Pic.No.12 Izzy tried skimming stones, but she kept on picking brick-like ones which just sank, and then got a bit disheartened

Pic.No.13 Looky here! The ruined remains of Bolton Priory

Pic.No.14 It's the dead centre of Bolton Abbey. People are dying to get into here

Pic.No.15 This is Izzy with her new friend, Emily. They were less than impressed with the fact that they were expected to walk around in the fresh air. That's the youth of today that is

Pic.No.16 A view of the river from Bolton Priory. The scenery was amazing. If it was food, it would be a pizza. Or a chicken nugget

Pic.No.17 That's Bolton Priory in the distance. It made me wonder actually, why didn't anyone consider putting a roof back on it?

Pic.No.18 Izzy is as shy and retiring as ever, trying to perfect the Zoolander pose

Pic.No.19 A random fountain thingy

Pic.No.20 At the end of a two mile walk we found a cafe and had hot chocolate

And then it started pissing down with rain and I was one of two people nominated to run back and get the cars. I was wetter and colder than a fish's chuff by the time I got back with the car. That's oop north for you.

29th December - Pantomime

Sarah had booked for a group of us to go to a pantomime. For my friends across the pond, a pantomime is a slapstick musical comedy based on children's stories, and this one was called Cinderella.

And given that I am not particularly partial to slapstick, musicals or children's stories, I was clinging onto the fact that the comedy might redeem the performance.

Pic.No.21 This is the inside of the Wakefield Theatre where the performance was held. 

Nope. Needless to say, after two and a half hours, the show was still going strong and I was losing the will to live. Sarah caught me surreptitiously trying to watch 'Zoolander' on my iPhone, and unceremoniously pulled out my earphones and called me a heathen.

I actually punched the air when I finally got out into open air again and mouthed 'thank you God,' and everything.

But despite the Cinderella blip, I have to say, our Christmas in Leeds was bloomin' marvellous as always. Especially because as I managed to avoid eating pie sandwiches as is the northern wont.

30th December

Izzy and I head south to Leicestershire to spend a second Christmas with my cousin Jane. Every time I see her, her hair is a different colour, but that isn't relevant to anything. 

She had made us a bloody marvellous tasting Christmas dinner which was bigger than my head. And I scoffed the lot. Then it was time to exchange presents.

Pic.No.22 Izzy was rather excited. In fact she nearly puked. Probably

Pic.No.23 She got a Pirate's outfit and was particularly happy because she loves Johnny Depp and wants to look like him so that he will be her boyfriend

Pic.No.24 Jane bought me the most ironic present of the festive season

Pic.No.26 I bought my lovely little nephew, Mitch, a bloody huge castle play tent for comedy value. Because I knew it would take up most of the living room. It's retribution for the time someone once bought Izzy a set of drums

Pic.No.27 Awww, the celebrations got too much for my little lovely and he fell asleep covered in mashed swede and carrot

So all in all, a bloody brilliant time was had in Leicestershire too. Apart from when Jane's dog, Roy, pissed on Naughty George's head when we took them for a walk. NG honked like a dead badger for weeks afterwards. 

31st December - New Year's Eve

Phew, we finally come to the last day of the holidays. The posse, consisting of Jane, Dave, Mike and me, all hot-footed it down to Oxford because I had organised a special night out in a rare fit of organisation.

Yep, I took us to the Glee Comedy Club in Oxford. It was bloody brilliant, and involved pitchers of beer, champagne and Jane shouting 'Kung Fu Flange' at random intervals.

Pic.No.27 This is the posse at the Glee Club in Oxford

So my dahlink, I do apologise that I haven't blogged for a while before this post. I promise I won't leave it this long again, but I just got pooped out with the whole moving house / Christmas / New Year / being ill / Izzy being ill / trying to catch up milarky.

I was quite surprised because I received quite a large number of complaints about my lack of blogging activity recently. As punishment, I shall self-flagellate with al-dente some spaghetti tonight.

And my next step is to try and catch up with reading your blog. Huzzar!

LinkWithin Related Posts