Archive for March, 2010


Caturday

I’m at work but fear not ethical and moral po, am not blogging while at work – I’m using the nifty “publish later” thingo so while you are all relaxing, lazing, chilling on a Saturday and checking out my cat pictures, think of me speaking to owners, vaccinating, lancing abscesses, getting bitten, scratched and being growled at and saving lives;  you know, that sort of stuff.

This is Noodles (aka Meat Noodles Fur, Koonaya, Vookoonaya, Voox)

Noodles was a stray and he is ours now – desexed, vaccinated and dewormed & deflead and all the rest and as you can see, very pampered. The other cats HATE him though and he is forever getting beaten up although he does start a lot of the fights. He used to be friends with a few of the cats down the street but now he isn’t getting along with any of them, either. He’s just misunderstood.

Noodles

Hangman

The story goes that one day, I was peculiarly in the mood to do some laundry, specifically put the clean clothes away. I don’t know what it is about this particular part of laundry duties – but I hate it! I asked husband to please scrunge around our cupboards for coathangers.

“Why do you need any when  you dumped so many in the recycling today.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The recycling bin outside is full of coathangers.”

“You lie.”

“Go and have a look if you don’t believe me.”

Well, sure enough – there it was. A bazillion and eleventeen wire hangers placed in our recycling bin. They looked like they hadn’t ever been used. So someone has walked with these eleventy bazillion hangers (or had them in their car) and saw our bin out there and as is perfectly understandable, decided to dump it in the bin because..WELL WHO EVEN KNOWS? and FOR WHY?

WHO WOULD DO SUCH A THING? I suspect it’s Shazza because she’s been seen to be doing these sorts of things before. I only hope that it means her hoarding days are over and her home is slowly but surely resurfacing.

The worst part is that they aren’t even part of the “allowed” stuff in the recycle bin. So not only did someone not ask permission but they put their stuff IN THE WRONG BIN. Whatever will the other neighbours think of me if word was to get out. No one will ever wave hello at me EVER AGAIN. Suburbia can be a real b*tch like that.

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