There’s a sense of deja vu here: we are reminded of the Budget Week cartoon where our intrepid First Dog answered his mobile phone and was rendered all gushy and overcome with awe by the mystery caller. That was the last time we read ‘to be continued’ but we still don’t know who the hell was on the other end of the phone. Give us a break, we’ve lost sleep over this.
How typical of the newly crowned “cartoon laureate”. He fires off a blinder and leaves us all in suspense, so he can bugger off to Bali to spend time with his new elephant friends.
Oh faithless, funny hound. We’ll sure miss you for the next week or so.
First Dog - do you know yet whether the new PM has any pets? (And I’m not talking about Tim.)
I hope you will also continue to follow the exciting adventures of Abby and Jasper… any cat that can say power ‘corrupts absolutely, and I love it’ needs to be kept under close scrutiny!
I think Jasper will ditch the crybabies and stay on in Canberra, setting up camp in the Scabby Range Nature Reserve.
From there he will connect with other former Labor malcontents, Mark Latham, Peter Walsh, Gary Johns and Michael Costa to form a crazed militia that will receive its instructions from the Ghost of Mal Colston.
Prime Minister Gillard will recall the troops from Afghanistan to defend against the guerilla attack, but they will be vanquished at the Battle of Capital Hill.
Abby will finally realise that she is the only sane creature in Canberra and set out to reason with the Colonel Kurtz-like Jasper.
It doesn’t end well.
EMC: I think you hit the nail on the redhead. So to speak.
The powerfox is way too smart to try evicting Jasper.
That’s why she’s refusing to move in to The Lodge.
Mind you, she’ll be playing the long game for sure.
Tempting him out with a variety of tasty morsels.
A sliver of Tony Abbott’s penis here.
A smidgeon of that famously rare delicacy, Phillip Ruddock’s heart.
Hell, call in Matt Preston and we could stage an entire “celebrity episode” of Masterchef at the gates of The Lodge.
I don’t suppose FDOM that you intended to insinuate there was any similarity between the attitudes of the cat in the Lodge and Janette Howard in Kirribilli House not all that long ago !!
I want to know how MY cat Burnside has come to feature in First Dog AND lives at the Lodge…Does he materialise there during the day when I am at work? No wonder he’s tired and grumpy when I get home at night….I guess the Fucktardosaurs wear him out….It can’t be the Pussy Cat Dolls in Canberra as he has no balls…unlike a certain Redhead….xxx
Damn you @Buzz. I’ve been so good all day.
Carefully putting down any drinks before even touching the mouse.
Then, along comes the Buzzer and…….splat!!
Another keyboard joins the unemployed fossils queue.
You have a nasty habit of buggering off to other places, and exploding a little nuclear device, such as “To be continued”.
What about the mysterious phone call in Canberra? You promised us we would find out who the other person was. We all tried to guess who it was, remember?
We, your devoted acolytes, do not deserve to be led up the garden path, following Jasper’s trail, and/or calling card. Harumph!!!
I hope you get sand in your budgie smugglers. So there!
“but he was a smart man, a good man” mewls Abby, jumping about hysterically amid the bodies of fallen and failed while the fucktardosaurs fall silent at the feet of the approaching assassin….
….”the horrurrr, the horruuurrr” purrs Colonel Jasper.
Posted Friday, 25 June 2010 at 10:25 pm |Permalink
The ghost of Spike Milligan has drifted in from Woy Woy and had a look over my shoulder. He says a golden retriever should be yellow not lurid orange. And Kurtz The Cat’s eyes are different sizes, and … wasn’t it Kev himself pictured in the Sydney Daily Telegraph last week of the 2007 federal election in a set piece picfac reading a copy of American Shotgun? Yes indeed it was such a blatant red neck, round the ankles, pitch to the sporting shooter pig dogging crowd that this cartoon should have just gone for the Ego himself, rather than the alter ego. Cold dead paw indeed! Otherwise, mmm, not bad.
Posted Saturday, 26 June 2010 at 4:53 pm |Permalink
WAGWAK: I seek guidance re where to put the emphasis on fucktardosaurs.
Is it, perchance fucktárdosaurs?
Fucktardósaurs?
Fucktárdósaurs?
Fucktàdósaurs?
None of the above?
Oh well, I tried.
24
Sandshoe
Posted Saturday, 26 June 2010 at 5:59 pm |Permalink
If I had not been held to ransom by a cat who aimed weaponry at me - only I - in a household of four flatties counting cat, I would not believe this!
No coincidence for me - either way - that Jasper is a flat cat. Yes, ‘the’ cat - from that vantage of boxes piled high below stairs for clear view of an entrance and a back door - shot at me. Yes, tore the skin off one of my ankles before plummeting the distance to the floor, yes. Cats like Jasper become one dimensional in fear of that return journey.
Jasper should never have been granted a gun licence.
25
paddy
Posted Sunday, 27 June 2010 at 12:35 pm |Permalink
ROTFL Thank you for that image Sandshoe.
I just had a marvellous thought.
Just imagine the prime rodent, dressed in his flak jacket, being sent in to negotiate Jasper’s surrender. (Naturally, the prize being offered to our little Aussie tracksuited battler is the presidency of the ICC.)
Hell, this could turn into an epic movie!!
Get on your bloody iPhone and speak to Spielberg at once FD.
I want the adventures of Abby and Jasper turned into a film. Art imitating life will make a dead-set blockbuster to break all box office records since Brenda Star sold out at Dymocks. This is the episode where a coup in the capital turns the homeless rabid.
Posted Monday, 28 June 2010 at 10:56 am |Permalink
@ Chris Johnson- there are far too few foul-mouthed animations, but Canberra’s homeless must be doing it tough enough at the moment, without rabies.
I like the idea of Jasper in the CommCar with a semi-automatic rifle, terrifying the boulevards and roundabouts. Do you think he’s heading for bling and back-up dancers/singers?
29
wagwak
Posted Monday, 28 June 2010 at 11:04 am |Permalink
Venise
Jasper Zelig-Kurzt “Mr Grey” Rudd murmurs Fucktaaaardosauuurs under his sublime purr while oiling up the firing mechanism of his semi-automatic….
I feel honoured @ PADDY. Thank you, Paddy. I have accepted by a delicate inclination, if you can imagine it, of my green head.
And Dogonauts, in fact I turn to EVERYBODY (I like that intimacy)! Isn’t Paddy’s rollicking laugh marvellous illustration of the way a laugh so often results for others as result of a collegiate or familial howl of pain-audible or imagined-that is unexpected especially in its incorporation with an observed or imagined second movement. Its content is rather like a hinge manipulated with a thumb and first finger. Like a puppet. Not unlike an intake and its outburst of a breath of the fresh air of a laugh. Arguably as unexpected as an attack orchestrated by a cat.
That first movement. Conceived. Planned. And the cat-speaking of it-for all any one of us knows has piled the boxes in place and thus on its own we might imagine cognisance of consequences leaps.
Then that second movement. Not foreseen we might imagine by the same conflicting token when we observe for Tom the cat the outcomes in pursuit of Jerry, the mouse in Tom and Jerry, the cartoon and Tom hits the wall.
It is too delicious for humourists like Paddy when Sandshoe howls in pain and a vicious cat falls a storey. SPLAT! FLAT! Look on our works!
Perchance, “Jasper and the Dogonauts” as a lounge act in downtown Canberra..a front for a band of highly trained Ninja felines packing iron? Mr Grey, Mr Ginger, Mr Black and White and Mr Marmalade??? The Rat Pack??
32
Sandshoe
Posted Tuesday, 29 June 2010 at 3:56 pm |Permalink
WAGWAK: I have been studying semiotics and significations in particular used in Australia in swearing on and on ceremonies.
Posted Tuesday, 29 June 2010 at 6:48 pm |Permalink
WAGWAK: I’m thinking of joining Walnut in her more or less complete winter sleep. Inside it is warm, and cosy, and ducted heating, a duvet or two, with herself parked on top of one of them.
Hibernation plus Shakespeare should do the trick.
In Melbourne we are having one of the coldest winters ever, and I hate it.
FD certainly picked his time well.
‘Night all.
34
wagwak
Posted Tuesday, 29 June 2010 at 7:09 pm |Permalink
Venise
My Cat Burnside, a Russian Blue named after Frank Burnside of the old Bill, demands my attendance under the duvet every night at 8.30pm promptly. To indicate his impatience, he sits blocking my view of the idiot box, back against my face with tail slightly twitching. If I refuse to decamp to my bedroom, he usually farts, which gets me up and moving pronto.
Silent and deadly like feline Ninja’s as a whole, a feline fart can level the best.
I dont know why the NSW Labor Right hasn’t realised the potential of pussycat gas before this. It can be used silently, without numbers and from afar. No actual physical contact or sighting is required. And best of all, the Fucktardosaurs really could blame the cat.
35
Sandshoe
Posted Tuesday, 29 June 2010 at 10:08 pm |Permalink
Ooops!
I … really … seriously meant ‘Lounge Lizard’ not ‘Longue Lizard’.
OR … NOT that I am paranormal … Jasper changed my petition to imply a snake.
Venise will be likely sleepy byes by now methinks. Thank you, V.
36
Sandshoe
Posted Wednesday, 30 June 2010 at 2:37 pm |Permalink
I must have dreamed on my role as Longue Lizard and images surface today regardless I seek to forget.
In one of my lives I worked as a timber finisher.
I see myself reclined on a chaise longue in wood grain patterned overalls adapted to a dogonaut’s costume.
All about are commenters posed as if in costume.
EMC appears as a, handsome I concede, black and white cat beside a hall stand next to a china cat.
Do I dream still*, but that is dogonaut Venise curled up asleep on a rattan mat under an exotic covering?
Nobody* except Noddy will drive a motor vehicle any more, soon. Noddy pedals his. Smart Noddy!
37
wagwak
Posted Wednesday, 30 June 2010 at 4:57 pm |Permalink
Venise
My Cat Burnside, a Russian Blue named after Frank Burnside of the old Bill, demands my attendance under the duvet every night at 8.30pm promptly. To indicate his impatience, he sits blocking my view of the idiot box, back against my face with tail slightly twitching. If I refuse to decamp to my bedroom, he usually farts, which gets me up and moving pronto.
Silent and deadly like feline Ninja’s as a whole, a feline fart can level the best.
I dont know why the NSW Labor Right hasn’t realised the potential of pussycat gas before this. It can be used silently, without numbers and from afar. No actual physical contact or sighting is required. And best of all, the Fucktardosaurs really could blame the cat.
38
Buzz
Posted Wednesday, 30 June 2010 at 5:04 pm |Permalink
What’s happened to the ‘Comments’ facility in the latest Classic ‘toons from the past? Is FD the only one in the Crikey office with the strength to deal with us? Do they think we’ll go feral in his absence.
BTW, I was in Sydney last night for dinner with a mate. All these wussy Sydney’ites were complaining about the cold. Ha! Seeing that it was -7 in parts of Canberra yesterday morning a mere 5 degrees seemed absolutely balmy and tropical to me. FD didn’t need to go to Bali, he could have gone and visited the baby elephant at Taronga Zoo instead.
Posted Wednesday, 30 June 2010 at 5:57 pm |Permalink
BUZZ: shiver, shiver. Shiver, shiver. We could try going feral. It might warm us up a bit?
SANDSHOE: This Dogonaut is currently wound up in a foetal position and wondering why she too wasn’t smart enough to hie me to a warmer climate.
WAGWAK: Love the name Burnside. Very high class! Rumpole of course? I hope?
Walnut gives an astonshingly canine bark when she is telling me when it is bedtime. I’ve never been able to get her to go under the duvet. Perhaps it’s because she hain’t no haristocrat? Who would know what goes on in the mind of a cat? Apart from a cat, of course.
Cheers all
V
40
wagwak
Posted Wednesday, 30 June 2010 at 6:08 pm |Permalink
Venise
Burnside is 33 1/3% - 33 1/3%- 33 1/3% with regards to the origin of his name..
As a Russian Blue he is POSH. As an ex-Adelaide girl, Burnside is meant to be THE posh suburb in the minds of some. However, he is also silvery grey blue with green eyes, so he is also like “Frank Burnside” a rather shady Copper from The Bill 20 years ago and YET , he is also a Rumpolenesque character, especially considering the size of his girth…When I am particularly being hassled by him for his 500th meal of the day, “Barge-arse” comes to mind….I note too when he demands sleepy byes, one eye begins to close towards a half slit as if he is preparing for a Ninja leap. I really belive that Jasper has an Australian wide network of deep sleepers that outdoes the Russians, all waiting for the signal (perhaps that particular piquant smell of cat “Spray”), to call them to arms…Dear Abby needs to write to Dear Abbey for advice….
41
Ern Malleys cat
Posted Thursday, 1 July 2010 at 11:09 am |Permalink
Sandshoe: your mention of woodgrain patterned overalls reminded me of an alternative use I found for part of Firstdog’s Christmas nativity scene. http://twitpic.com/21d43t
When Oscar de la Renta’s cat came over for brunch I got him to model the timber trousers that were originally part of the Baby Jesus’ crib. http://twitpic.com/21d4ix
Posted Thursday, 1 July 2010 at 11:57 am |Permalink
WAGWAK, SANDSHOE, EMC, BUZZ: and everyone else. We should all club together to buy Tony Abbott a present.
A tiger
A skunk
A pack of African hunting dogs (far deadlier than a hyena) they hunt in packs; when the lead dog gets tired another dog takes over. They are implacable.
A warthog
A one way ticket to the Sahara
Anyone else want to make a couple of suggestions?
43
Sandshoe
Posted Thursday, 1 July 2010 at 3:47 pm |Permalink
EMC: Stephen Conroy will be most interested in a bulk consignment of the wee troosers Oscar de la Renta’s cat modelled at brunch at yours.
EMC, but please let me compliment you personally. Those are a nicely hung pair of tiny troosers. They suit. Oscar’s is a well finished cat and manners maketh the cat.
Venise, I wonder we might if we might club together and tell TA how crook* on his hustings he speaketh. Y’ think?
I’m in the mood for theatre
Simply because he’s near me
Funny but when he’s near me
I go right off my food.
Why stop to think of whether
This little skit is nonsense
Join us
We’ll put our arts together
Then when we are one
It’s what we can do-o-o-o do-o-o-o…
* BP is crook. It is a marvel BP service station managers and owners have not walked off their premises. Just walked off.
Posted Thursday, 1 July 2010 at 4:33 pm |Permalink
SANDSHOE: Don’t look at me when you suggest joining together in a chorus. I can’t sing.
At school they used to bribe me not to attempt to join the choir, so, at the end of the year Chrissy fiestas so beloved of schools, I got huge speaking parts.
One year I actually made it to Choir II, but after that exhausting effort the head mistress hauled me into her office. “Congratulations Venise, you did succeed in singing today, but it’s a big program this year and your voice would be so much more gainfully employed learning this huge part.”
What did I say? I capitulated. Opera lost a great voice at this stage. Says me wistfully.
I am so happy to think of FD sunning himself on a beach in Bali, while I’m having trouble holding my jaws, and teeth together.
45
wagwak
Posted Thursday, 1 July 2010 at 5:06 pm |Permalink
Venise
How about a two for one offer on a brain and personality for Tony A?
But there’s more!
A free DNA test to confirm his direct descent from Homo Idiotus?
Three husbands for three daughters?
Shares in a back street nylon weaving factory in down town Mumbai with a workforce of 5 year old children making budgie smugglers?
A hit man?
Burnside takes it that you aren’t the cat’s mieow in singing (sorry for the pun)…
Posted Thursday, 1 July 2010 at 6:12 pm |Permalink
WAGWAK: I hate to depress you, but the revolting Tony Abbott is a Rhodes Scholar.
It’s his charm and his great concern for women and his heaving chest of hair, YUK!
That I find so resistible.
Together with his Catholicism.
“Shares in a back street nylon weaving factory in down town Mumbai with a workforce of 5 year old children making budgie smugglers?” Delicious suggestion.
Burnside sounds like a member of the Melbourne Club.
Walnut, the tart, is dead unimpressed by Burnside’s upper-classness. Whereas I am gob-smacked.
Hehehehe
47
wagwak
Posted Thursday, 1 July 2010 at 6:24 pm |Permalink
The selection Committee dropped it’s standards when it accepted Clinton, so TA shouldn’t hold that up as a special academic achievement. Writing in 14 point font and knowing how to spell scholarship seems to be all that is required….
He still requires a personality other than being a Holy Vassal through which Billy Graham channels….and yes Sandshoe, I did mean Vassal and not vessel, although that could open up a whole new discussion….
Burnside is what I define as a zeitgeist whore and goes where the food and trends are. He’d like Walnut. I am sure all Melbourne Club members like a “bit of rough” now and again so he’s no different. Rather like Christopher Hitchens actually…
VENISE: I was suggesting we share our arts. Yes, I admit you saw me looking at you, but each to their own branch. Indeed I have been known to warble like a bird-speaking of branch-thrilling at spring and I would be only too happy to above your head Venise while you manage your huge parts.
If I might be swung out on a bosun’s chair-speaking of vessel WAGWAK-I would warble good and loud if I saw a suspicious budgie smuggler and throw apples. Apples have been proven good for mental health. I didn’t see the study. We might need an understudy. Ba da bing ba da boom!
Vassal!?!! Vaseline!?!! For the part of your life! Here we come, Bollywood!
Wagwak, I know not this ‘Vassal’ from my own experience. Perhaps like ‘Wassail’.
vas·sal /ˈvæsəl/ Show Spelled[vas-uhl] Show IPA
–noun
1.(in the feudal system) a person granted the use of land, in return for rendering homage, fealty, and usually military service or its equivalent to a lord or other superior; feudal tenant.
2.a person holding some similar relation to a superior; a subject, subordinate, follower, or retainer.
3.a servant or slave.
–adjective
4.of, pertaining to, or characteristic of a vassal.
5.having the status or position of a vassal.
Origin:
1300–50; ME < MF < ML vassallus, equiv. to vass(us) servant (< Celtic; cf. Welsh gwas young man, Ir foss servant) + -allus n. suffix
—Related forms
vas·sal·less, adjective
non·vas·sal, noun
sub·vas·sal, noun
un·der·vas·sal, noun
Armageddon firstdog? I can’t wait for the next instalment…
“Fucktardosaurs”
This is why I love you.
Jiminy cricket, Mr Onthemoon, not again!
There’s a sense of deja vu here: we are reminded of the Budget Week cartoon where our intrepid First Dog answered his mobile phone and was rendered all gushy and overcome with awe by the mystery caller. That was the last time we read ‘to be continued’ but we still don’t know who the hell was on the other end of the phone. Give us a break, we’ve lost sleep over this.
’ to be continued’ - yeah, right…
How typical of the newly crowned “cartoon laureate”. He fires off a blinder and leaves us all in suspense, so he can bugger off to Bali to spend time with his new elephant friends.
Oh faithless, funny hound. We’ll sure miss you for the next week or so.
Loved this one.
First Dog - do you know yet whether the new PM has any pets? (And I’m not talking about Tim.)
I hope you will also continue to follow the exciting adventures of Abby and Jasper… any cat that can say power ‘corrupts absolutely, and I love it’ needs to be kept under close scrutiny!
To be continued? On a fscking Friday! FFS!
I think Jasper will ditch the crybabies and stay on in Canberra, setting up camp in the Scabby Range Nature Reserve.
From there he will connect with other former Labor malcontents, Mark Latham, Peter Walsh, Gary Johns and Michael Costa to form a crazed militia that will receive its instructions from the Ghost of Mal Colston.
Prime Minister Gillard will recall the troops from Afghanistan to defend against the guerilla attack, but they will be vanquished at the Battle of Capital Hill.
Abby will finally realise that she is the only sane creature in Canberra and set out to reason with the Colonel Kurtz-like Jasper.
It doesn’t end well.
EMC: I think you hit the nail on the redhead. So to speak.
The powerfox is way too smart to try evicting Jasper.
That’s why she’s refusing to move in to The Lodge.
Mind you, she’ll be playing the long game for sure.
Tempting him out with a variety of tasty morsels.
A sliver of Tony Abbott’s penis here.
A smidgeon of that famously rare delicacy, Phillip Ruddock’s heart.
Hell, call in Matt Preston and we could stage an entire “celebrity episode” of Masterchef at the gates of The Lodge.
http://stop.pk/file/pic/gallery/114528.jpg
@Buzz: The humourless bastards over here will be on your case.
http://www.crikey.com.au/2010/06/25/keyboardcat/#comments
I don’t suppose FDOM that you intended to insinuate there was any similarity between the attitudes of the cat in the Lodge and Janette Howard in Kirribilli House not all that long ago !!
Kathryn
@Kathryn: No, Jasper’s a cat. Janette’s a … female dog.
I want to know how MY cat Burnside has come to feature in First Dog AND lives at the Lodge…Does he materialise there during the day when I am at work? No wonder he’s tired and grumpy when I get home at night….I guess the Fucktardosaurs wear him out….It can’t be the Pussy Cat Dolls in Canberra as he has no balls…unlike a certain Redhead….xxx
Will no one think of the pets??!?
With a sawn off shotgun and six months of sardines, I think the pets are okay….
Damn you @Buzz. I’ve been so good all day.
Carefully putting down any drinks before even touching the mouse.
Then, along comes the Buzzer and…….splat!!
Another keyboard joins the unemployed fossils queue.
Dear First Dog,
You have a nasty habit of buggering off to other places, and exploding a little nuclear device, such as “To be continued”.
What about the mysterious phone call in Canberra? You promised us we would find out who the other person was. We all tried to guess who it was, remember?
We, your devoted acolytes, do not deserve to be led up the garden path, following Jasper’s trail, and/or calling card. Harumph!!!
I hope you get sand in your budgie smugglers. So there!
“but he was a smart man, a good man” mewls Abby, jumping about hysterically amid the bodies of fallen and failed while the fucktardosaurs fall silent at the feet of the approaching assassin….
….”the horrurrr, the horruuurrr” purrs Colonel Jasper.
A cracker.
The ghost of Spike Milligan has drifted in from Woy Woy and had a look over my shoulder. He says a golden retriever should be yellow not lurid orange. And Kurtz The Cat’s eyes are different sizes, and … wasn’t it Kev himself pictured in the Sydney Daily Telegraph last week of the 2007 federal election in a set piece picfac reading a copy of American Shotgun? Yes indeed it was such a blatant red neck, round the ankles, pitch to the sporting shooter pig dogging crowd that this cartoon should have just gone for the Ego himself, rather than the alter ego. Cold dead paw indeed! Otherwise, mmm, not bad.
WAGWAK: I seek guidance re where to put the emphasis on fucktardosaurs.
Is it, perchance fucktárdosaurs?
Fucktardósaurs?
Fucktárdósaurs?
Fucktàdósaurs?
None of the above?
Oh well, I tried.
If I had not been held to ransom by a cat who aimed weaponry at me - only I - in a household of four flatties counting cat, I would not believe this!
No coincidence for me - either way - that Jasper is a flat cat. Yes, ‘the’ cat - from that vantage of boxes piled high below stairs for clear view of an entrance and a back door - shot at me. Yes, tore the skin off one of my ankles before plummeting the distance to the floor, yes. Cats like Jasper become one dimensional in fear of that return journey.
Jasper should never have been granted a gun licence.
ROTFL Thank you for that image Sandshoe.
I just had a marvellous thought.
Just imagine the prime rodent, dressed in his flak jacket, being sent in to negotiate Jasper’s surrender. (Naturally, the prize being offered to our little Aussie tracksuited battler is the presidency of the ICC.)
Hell, this could turn into an epic movie!!
Get on your bloody iPhone and speak to Spielberg at once FD.
I want the adventures of Abby and Jasper turned into a film. Art imitating life will make a dead-set blockbuster to break all box office records since Brenda Star sold out at Dymocks. This is the episode where a coup in the capital turns the homeless rabid.
@ Chris Johnson- there are far too few foul-mouthed animations, but Canberra’s homeless must be doing it tough enough at the moment, without rabies.
I like the idea of Jasper in the CommCar with a semi-automatic rifle, terrifying the boulevards and roundabouts. Do you think he’s heading for bling and back-up dancers/singers?
Venise
Jasper Zelig-Kurzt “Mr Grey” Rudd murmurs Fucktaaaardosauuurs under his sublime purr while oiling up the firing mechanism of his semi-automatic….
I feel honoured @ PADDY. Thank you, Paddy. I have accepted by a delicate inclination, if you can imagine it, of my green head.
And Dogonauts, in fact I turn to EVERYBODY (I like that intimacy)! Isn’t Paddy’s rollicking laugh marvellous illustration of the way a laugh so often results for others as result of a collegiate or familial howl of pain-audible or imagined-that is unexpected especially in its incorporation with an observed or imagined second movement. Its content is rather like a hinge manipulated with a thumb and first finger. Like a puppet. Not unlike an intake and its outburst of a breath of the fresh air of a laugh. Arguably as unexpected as an attack orchestrated by a cat.
That first movement. Conceived. Planned. And the cat-speaking of it-for all any one of us knows has piled the boxes in place and thus on its own we might imagine cognisance of consequences leaps.
Then that second movement. Not foreseen we might imagine by the same conflicting token when we observe for Tom the cat the outcomes in pursuit of Jerry, the mouse in Tom and Jerry, the cartoon and Tom hits the wall.
It is too delicious for humourists like Paddy when Sandshoe howls in pain and a vicious cat falls a storey. SPLAT! FLAT! Look on our works!
Perchance, “Jasper and the Dogonauts” as a lounge act in downtown Canberra..a front for a band of highly trained Ninja felines packing iron? Mr Grey, Mr Ginger, Mr Black and White and Mr Marmalade??? The Rat Pack??
WAGWAK: I have been studying semiotics and significations in particular used in Australia in swearing on and on ceremonies.
I would like to audition for Longue Lizard.
Ever thespian,
‘shoe.
WAGWAK: I’m thinking of joining Walnut in her more or less complete winter sleep. Inside it is warm, and cosy, and ducted heating, a duvet or two, with herself parked on top of one of them.
Hibernation plus Shakespeare should do the trick.
In Melbourne we are having one of the coldest winters ever, and I hate it.
FD certainly picked his time well.
‘Night all.
Venise
My Cat Burnside, a Russian Blue named after Frank Burnside of the old Bill, demands my attendance under the duvet every night at 8.30pm promptly. To indicate his impatience, he sits blocking my view of the idiot box, back against my face with tail slightly twitching. If I refuse to decamp to my bedroom, he usually farts, which gets me up and moving pronto.
Silent and deadly like feline Ninja’s as a whole, a feline fart can level the best.
I dont know why the NSW Labor Right hasn’t realised the potential of pussycat gas before this. It can be used silently, without numbers and from afar. No actual physical contact or sighting is required. And best of all, the Fucktardosaurs really could blame the cat.
Ooops!
I … really
… seriously meant ‘Lounge Lizard’ not ‘Longue Lizard’. 
OR … NOT that I am paranormal … Jasper changed my petition to imply a snake.
Venise will be likely sleepy byes by now methinks. Thank you, V.
I must have dreamed on my role as Longue Lizard and images surface today regardless I seek to forget.
In one of my lives I worked as a timber finisher.
I see myself reclined on a chaise longue in wood grain patterned overalls adapted to a dogonaut’s costume.
All about are commenters posed as if in costume.
EMC appears as a, handsome I concede, black and white cat beside a hall stand next to a china cat.
Do I dream still*, but that is dogonaut Venise curled up asleep on a rattan mat under an exotic covering?
Nobody* except Noddy will drive a motor vehicle any more, soon. Noddy pedals his. Smart Noddy!
Venise
My Cat Burnside, a Russian Blue named after Frank Burnside of the old Bill, demands my attendance under the duvet every night at 8.30pm promptly. To indicate his impatience, he sits blocking my view of the idiot box, back against my face with tail slightly twitching. If I refuse to decamp to my bedroom, he usually farts, which gets me up and moving pronto.
Silent and deadly like feline Ninja’s as a whole, a feline fart can level the best.
I dont know why the NSW Labor Right hasn’t realised the potential of pussycat gas before this. It can be used silently, without numbers and from afar. No actual physical contact or sighting is required. And best of all, the Fucktardosaurs really could blame the cat.
What’s happened to the ‘Comments’ facility in the latest Classic ‘toons from the past? Is FD the only one in the Crikey office with the strength to deal with us? Do they think we’ll go feral in his absence.
BTW, I was in Sydney last night for dinner with a mate. All these wussy Sydney’ites were complaining about the cold. Ha! Seeing that it was -7 in parts of Canberra yesterday morning a mere 5 degrees seemed absolutely balmy and tropical to me. FD didn’t need to go to Bali, he could have gone and visited the baby elephant at Taronga Zoo instead.
BUZZ: shiver, shiver. Shiver, shiver. We could try going feral. It might warm us up a bit?
SANDSHOE: This Dogonaut is currently wound up in a foetal position and wondering why she too wasn’t smart enough to hie me to a warmer climate.
WAGWAK: Love the name Burnside. Very high class! Rumpole of course? I hope?
Walnut gives an astonshingly canine bark when she is telling me when it is bedtime. I’ve never been able to get her to go under the duvet. Perhaps it’s because she hain’t no haristocrat? Who would know what goes on in the mind of a cat? Apart from a cat, of course.
Cheers all
V
Venise
Burnside is 33 1/3% - 33 1/3%- 33 1/3% with regards to the origin of his name..
As a Russian Blue he is POSH. As an ex-Adelaide girl, Burnside is meant to be THE posh suburb in the minds of some. However, he is also silvery grey blue with green eyes, so he is also like “Frank Burnside” a rather shady Copper from The Bill 20 years ago and YET , he is also a Rumpolenesque character, especially considering the size of his girth…When I am particularly being hassled by him for his 500th meal of the day, “Barge-arse” comes to mind….I note too when he demands sleepy byes, one eye begins to close towards a half slit as if he is preparing for a Ninja leap. I really belive that Jasper has an Australian wide network of deep sleepers that outdoes the Russians, all waiting for the signal (perhaps that particular piquant smell of cat “Spray”), to call them to arms…Dear Abby needs to write to Dear Abbey for advice….
Sandshoe: your mention of woodgrain patterned overalls reminded me of an alternative use I found for part of Firstdog’s Christmas nativity scene.
http://twitpic.com/21d43t
When Oscar de la Renta’s cat came over for brunch I got him to model the timber trousers that were originally part of the Baby Jesus’ crib.
http://twitpic.com/21d4ix
WAGWAK, SANDSHOE, EMC, BUZZ: and everyone else. We should all club together to buy Tony Abbott a present.
A tiger
A skunk
A pack of African hunting dogs (far deadlier than a hyena) they hunt in packs; when the lead dog gets tired another dog takes over. They are implacable.
A warthog
A one way ticket to the Sahara
Anyone else want to make a couple of suggestions?
EMC: Stephen Conroy will be most interested in a bulk consignment of the wee troosers Oscar de la Renta’s cat modelled at brunch at yours.
EMC, but please let me compliment you personally. Those are a nicely hung pair of tiny troosers. They suit. Oscar’s is a well finished cat and manners maketh the cat.
Venise, I wonder we might if we might club together and tell TA how crook* on his hustings he speaketh. Y’ think?
I’m in the mood for theatre
Simply because he’s near me
Funny but when he’s near me
I go right off my food.
Why stop to think of whether
This little skit is nonsense
Join us
We’ll put our arts together
Then when we are one
It’s what we can do-o-o-o do-o-o-o…
* BP is crook. It is a marvel BP service station managers and owners have not walked off their premises. Just walked off.
SANDSHOE: Don’t look at me when you suggest joining together in a chorus. I can’t sing.
At school they used to bribe me not to attempt to join the choir, so, at the end of the year Chrissy fiestas so beloved of schools, I got huge speaking parts.
One year I actually made it to Choir II, but after that exhausting effort the head mistress hauled me into her office. “Congratulations Venise, you did succeed in singing today, but it’s a big program this year and your voice would be so much more gainfully employed learning this huge part.”
What did I say? I capitulated. Opera lost a great voice at this stage. Says me wistfully.
I am so happy to think of FD sunning himself on a beach in Bali, while I’m having trouble holding my jaws, and teeth together.
Venise
How about a two for one offer on a brain and personality for Tony A?
But there’s more!
A free DNA test to confirm his direct descent from Homo Idiotus?
Three husbands for three daughters?
Shares in a back street nylon weaving factory in down town Mumbai with a workforce of 5 year old children making budgie smugglers?
A hit man?
Burnside takes it that you aren’t the cat’s mieow in singing (sorry for the pun)…
WAGWAK: I hate to depress you, but the revolting Tony Abbott is a Rhodes Scholar.
It’s his charm and his great concern for women and his heaving chest of hair, YUK!
That I find so resistible.
Together with his Catholicism.
“Shares in a back street nylon weaving factory in down town Mumbai with a workforce of 5 year old children making budgie smugglers?” Delicious suggestion.
Burnside sounds like a member of the Melbourne Club.
Walnut, the tart, is dead unimpressed by Burnside’s upper-classness. Whereas I am gob-smacked.
Hehehehe
The selection Committee dropped it’s standards when it accepted Clinton, so TA shouldn’t hold that up as a special academic achievement. Writing in 14 point font and knowing how to spell scholarship seems to be all that is required….
He still requires a personality other than being a Holy Vassal through which Billy Graham channels….and yes Sandshoe, I did mean Vassal and not vessel, although that could open up a whole new discussion….
Burnside is what I define as a zeitgeist whore and goes where the food and trends are. He’d like Walnut. I am sure all Melbourne Club members like a “bit of rough” now and again so he’s no different. Rather like Christopher Hitchens actually…
Walnut sounds quite sensible
VENISE: I was suggesting we share our arts. Yes, I admit you saw me looking at you, but each to their own branch. Indeed I have been known to warble like a bird-speaking of branch-thrilling at spring and I would be only too happy to above your head Venise while you manage your huge parts.
If I might be swung out on a bosun’s chair-speaking of vessel WAGWAK-I would warble good and loud if I saw a suspicious budgie smuggler and throw apples. Apples have been proven good for mental health. I didn’t see the study. We might need an understudy. Ba da bing ba da boom!
Vassal!?!! Vaseline!?!! For the part of your life! Here we come, Bollywood!
Wagwak, I know not this ‘Vassal’ from my own experience. Perhaps like ‘Wassail’.
Wæs Hæil
‘shoe.
peanut…Burnside sends this explanation……
vas·sal /ˈvæsəl/ Show Spelled[vas-uhl] Show IPA
–noun
1.(in the feudal system) a person granted the use of land, in return for rendering homage, fealty, and usually military service or its equivalent to a lord or other superior; feudal tenant.
2.a person holding some similar relation to a superior; a subject, subordinate, follower, or retainer.
3.a servant or slave.
–adjective
4.of, pertaining to, or characteristic of a vassal.
5.having the status or position of a vassal.
Origin:
1300–50; ME < MF < ML vassallus, equiv. to vass(us) servant (< Celtic; cf. Welsh gwas young man, Ir foss servant) + -allus n. suffix
—Related forms
vas·sal·less, adjective
non·vas·sal, noun
sub·vas·sal, noun
un·der·vas·sal, noun
—Can be confused: vassal, vessel.
@Venise: yes, I have more suggestions.
Ferrets, to replace the budgies.
Wolverines…
Actually, they’re both members of the weasel family, they’d probably get on well with him.