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60 Comments
I think sitting still is by *far* the most frightening thing.
BTW Please make sure Mr Tiddles cage has a sturdy padlock.
In our brave new world, flying foxes are said to eat pussy cats for breakfast.
Ants! That would make Penny Wong express her emotion (http://www.crikey.com.au/2010/03/03/the-six-primary-emotions/)
going home frigthens the living shite out of me…to that end, FD, what is missing on that list is ‘teenage daughters’ and the ‘wifes cooking’ - but you must still be a young man, who still romances your partner most nights with a takeawy pizza and watching reruns of seinfield … oh those were the days
To be continued? FD, you haven’t started doing cliffhangers?
Honda Prelude? Hume Highway at Wallan? Don’t go to Milawa if you answered Cheese.
It’s the cheese, isn’t it. The cheese straw that broke the camel’s back. Listen, if you go the long way I’ll have fed all of our cheese to Kali (Goddess of destruction) the dog by the time you arrive. She’s got two home cats remember (George of the glands - and Tasha - the wee scabby cat) and is definitely safe for Mr Tiddles.
I can warm up the DVD and we can have a Marx Brothers’ festival if you like.
It’s only a tiny cold I’m nursing - not the full blown flu…… you’ll be fine in the ninth bedroom, overlooking the last moat in the Inner West - to the private golf course, next to the stable of classic supercars, just up the hall from the bar, the fine wine display, the library and studio. Just let me clean out all these old Leunigs, Bruce Pettys and Cathy Wilcoxes…..
I hear Mauritius is lovely. And cheap. 6 month tourist visas, just gotta leave for a couple of days in-between.
I’m terrified by one of the faceless men and his mother-in-law, who has a face. They are going to burn the constatution and take away our right to have bear arms.
Holden, isn’t Milawa a women’s prison ? How scary do you want to be ! Poor old FD.
Dirt - “koala bear’ arms ?
Yes MJ, so we can eat leaves gum free from marauding Dick Smiths.
I meant gum leaves.
FD’s certainly got the sight of Mr Tiddles having to be pushed into the cat basket to perfection. Pity he didn’t, couldn’t, catch the blood-curdling screams, yells and growls which accompany this feat.
What the dickens?
MJ Re-Runs of ‘Prisoner’ wasn’t on the list. Or zombie Lizzies.
Milawa the town is just north of Glenrowan, home to Brown Brothers and an excellent ch**se factory.
Venise: Ah, but are you a qualified observer of putting a cat into a box?
Love the Discworld description for that:
Mr Onthemoon, you have captured the special anti-pet pack move perfectly, Mr Tiddles executes it well. But I gather brute force eventually won out and Mr Tiddles is truckin’ north.
Mike, I have a few old Sgt Bilko episodes on video - 100% classic comedy. Great winter viewing whilst sipping on the red ‘medicine’.
Keep Left Unless Overtaking.
Just because it’s the end of the world as we know it doesn’t mean the basic rules of decency don’t apply any more.
A youth gang will most likely throw a brick off the overpass and it will smash through the windscreen.
That’s what I’m afraid of.
That cat is right. bloody Victorians. The right lane is for overtaking!
Sort of dark FD. But you forgot to include “the Western Bulldogs form slump” to the list…
Holden, The Brothers Brown make a delicious Orange Muscat and Flora. It’ll give FD a boost and sedate Mr Tiddles and then neither will care about the c-word.
Zut, I’m good to go on Bilko. That’s me there - at the Pig’s Arms - in the public bar , staring into the middle distance, letting my schooner of Trotter’s Ale get warm and hoping they will be putting on your DVD up in the Nathan Rees Memorial Ballroom and Entertainment space upstairs…
I could swear that car just moved ….
Muslins - definitely muslins!
http://www.superpoop.com/092208/obama-muslin.jpg
MJ I t’ll be the ch**se factory that spooks him - it’s full of muslin and curds.
I’m afraid of little red cars travelling on the wrong side of the road.
There’s no one in the passenger seat!
@Mike Jones: There’s always iView. I’ve taken to watching Q&A again lately. IMHO Tony Jones has settled into the job a bit better now.
Holden Back,
Your last remark is whey out of line.
Zut Alors
No need to milk the gag.
That’s so cheesey.
A little fraiche.
I am afraid of going home after a day of sitting still and being accountable for change to find that Elfy the Elf and his army of Muslim ants, gay married flying foxes and dying taipans have told the media the truth about the social order being undermined by faceless boat people. The media will be angry at missing out and will successfully cause Anarchy! Thankfully I am not afraid of cheese.
MESKI: I like it; I like it.
When it comes to cat boxes. Walnut’s neck is always at risk, as over a period of seventeen years, I’ve learned to put the box on its end, grab her-one arm under her forearms and the other back in front of her hips, and plunge her head-first into her carrying cage.
Tip for the unwary: NEVER try lowering the hind quarters in first. Cats see around themselves with excellent eyesight and in that position they have four legs-claws having been brought into play-and are prodigiously strong.
Another tip: once at their destination is is best to just leave the cage-door open and let them find their own way out of the box.
If, at the vet, you try tipping the cat out onto the Vet table. You will see those miraculously strong legs braced inside each corner of the box. Ominous sounds of growling, rising up to full grown screeches will follow. It takes me and three vets to deal with Walnut with about an ninety-nine percent strike rate to Walnut.
Finally, the lady who is the head honcho in this practise said tactfully “Next time Venise, do you think we could come to your place?”
Anyone looking with love at their cat cannot understand how this docile and cosy creature-fast asleep on a small pile of Persian rugs and a duvet, could in extremis, turn into a malevolent screaming tyrant. But they do.
My extra tip Venise: Locate the cat and confine in a smallish space BEFORE getting the cat box out, otherwise it vanishes into thin air.
Holden Back
I was just trying to brie funny.
INNOCENT UNTIL: Damn, I forgot about that bit. How right you are.
Have you Googled “Simon’s cat”? You’ll love it.
Heaven is a bottle of excellent (Margaret River) Chardonnay. A large amount of Carr’s Water biscuits, a block of freshly made butter, and a beautifully whiffly round block of Roquefort (Papillion). ¡No hay mejor!
A few slices of Spanish smoked jamón wouldn’t go astray either. Maybe a few acetuñas, some choriso? Perhaps.
With all those fears to choose from, FD’s escape was a feta accompli. His Tyning was perfect. Still…ton, I Cantel where they Aragone so I’m Bleu with Greve’ing.
To continue our dairy-themed adventures
@ Venise truly buttering the paws of the cat- before and after - helps. Much concentrated cleaning.
Let’s mature, develop some culture and bloom.
@Venise: Simon’s cat was totally adorable. “Let Me In” was my favourite. I think you can tell a lot about the patience of the author by the length of time the cat sits outside before entering the opened door. My cat has learnt to start coming in immediately or the door will be shut in her face. She waits till her head is well in before stopping.
I must pop across and suggest a cat box animation.
Just bringing the cat box from the garage into the house is enough to turn my sweet little Neffi into Hannibal Lecter. Among the growls I’m sure I hear “Good evening Clarise” or even worse: “Ready when you are Sgt Andrew”….
Interesting how many FD fans are owned by cats…
My daughter has just advised that she is going to live in the USA - its apparently got more attractive of a sudden - scary world isn’t it?
Venise: qv 20/8/10 Fed Election from moi.
HOLDEN B: Woman, where be your brains? I tried the buttered paw routine way back when. The amount of dinero I had to fork out to get the place cleaned and all my clothes cleaned, the carpets cleaned was horrific. All Her Maj had to do was wash herself.
YUK
Cheers
Venise
O.
When a child, I pedalled my bicycle up the main street to the bakery that sold the Vienna bread and back (past the bakery that didn’t) and it (the getting of the bread) has given me a wanderlust because I will travel to buy a loaf of bread.
I liked plum jam so much on thick slices of the Vienna spread with Malanda butter my brother carried a tin of IXL plum jam home with him from the University at St Lucia to Far North Queensland regardless coals to Newcastle as evidence of his love for me and appreciation.
I had provided the transport of the bread home in the wire carry basket hung on my handlebars throughout the last year he was at high school.
Sometimes I stood beside my father beginning eye level with a wood counter watching the greengrocer carve sections of cheese from giant balls covered in red wax. Hauled onto a wood block and unwrapped out of muslin cloth the red wax shapes excited me most as they split open.
The delicious flesh was revealed. Father (imagine! his scottish accent!) taught me “Red Malling”. Discrete blocks wrapped in pristine greasproof paper arrived in ‘the order’ put in to the greengrocer’s by telephone and delivered once a week my entire childhood. It was rare to witness the splitting.
‘shoe was a happy golden-honey headed little girl when she was clutching a Vienna bread sandwich of plum jam+cheese and the smell of sugar hung heavy in the tropical heat in the crushing.
@Venise
My mother’s recommendation. And she’s a woman who makes you feel she’s autoclaved the house since last you were there.
@BUZZ: I must say I felt right contrite reading your ‘woe is me FD’s gone and where’ note.
Something monumentally by comparison not seemly about chatter and story telling as usual among rest of some of us as if we just bide time and he will pop back. Sucking on a Milo. The sprog and the missus coming up tow with the laptops, cartoons in cartons and missive launchers behind.
FD will pop back rght, everybody? It’s not just a geographical?
@Lehan: re the java, it’s the usual try / catch / finally
Someone left left their Chocolate Crackles party pans on the sink and left the cake papers in them? Yeah! How long is a party?
:light:
SANDSHOE: Please, what is the American word for lightbulb? As you can see I tried light. If I try bulb I’ll probably end up with a flower, so what could it be. Please?
Dear (darling) V,
I am assuming you are wanting to ask someone to change a lightbulb.
If I could help I would V. I’m stuck in Adelaide.
Where are you in America? It depends on place. A lot depends on colloquiality.
I only ask because I can ring the place and telephone somebody in geography.
They will come and look at my map. It’s a new beginning without the NBN. Gosh this is exciting.
Sandshoe
aka ‘shoe
aka V.A’s friend of so many.
:50 cents worth:
(I) that was an I or an i in brackets ( )
Well, the emoticon site said that.
ah, it might be idea with colons around it.
Programmer: You don’t want to change the lightbulb, it’s functioning as per the design specs.
Verified.
MESKI, SOCRATEASE, SANDSHOE: You are all nothing less than brilliant.
Well done, and a million thanks.