This morning I woke bright and early @ 7am mainly because one of the cats Fizz (a big orange very very stupid tomcat) was sitting on my chest and prodding me with a paw, claws out. This is the international cat language for "get up you lazy sod I need to have a pee". In the Feline GTD task list every day is :-
01. Get a human to wake up by the most painful means possible
02. Get said human to open the back door
03. Have pee
04. Go for a wander and see what the feline posse is up to
Having succeed in 01 and 02 the McDonagh cats went about their normal business of investigating everything in the back garden Can I F**K it? Can I eat it? Can it eat me? ~sigh~ the simple pleasures of feline existence.
The weather @ 7am in late December Ireland was officially "dark" and it has to be noted that opening the kitchen door wearing nothing but PJ bottoms and a barely awake bemused expression is not to recommended! Your neighbours may not relish either the view or the screams of pain as the cold causes every square inch of skin to contract to half it's size faster than ... well a very fast thing!
Most worryingly as I poured my Oatie Flakes (with cranberries and Sultanas) into a bowl I had an overpowering urge to sing "I wanna have boobies" whilst wearing a black lace basque. Thankfully this was an after effect of falling asleep in front of the TV and being subjected to 2 hours of subliminal Pussycatdolls on TMF tween 4 and 6am. I must have misheard the lyrics which on later investigation were "I wanna have groupies" which came as a great relief I can tell you!
But then I do seem to have a penchant for mishearding lyrics. It took several listens to the nerdy gnome Michael Snipe exhorting me to "Lets pee in the corner, lets pee on the spotlight" until it was pointed out by the Preforming Rights Society that REM's lead singer was not encouraging free range urination over very hot things. (which children is dangerous and should not be done even for a joke!)
This was much less worrying than the clammy hand of fear that grasped my nether regions when I heard Bryan Adams ditty that trucks along in the following vein.
Got my first real sex dream,
I was 5 at the time.
Played it till my fingers bled.
It was the summer of 69.
~shudder~
I am not alone in this malady, my good friend Robbo was wont to sing along to speccy doyen of C&W John Denver's smash hit Country Roads with the following refrain
"West Virginia, Mount yur Momma"
No amount of correction ever broke him of this habit!
Which brings me back to cats ... why is that fecking musical so fecking popular?
Time for Taggart on the tube! Nite All
