The price of love??

As you know Charlie my cat is sick. So this morning after being greeted with a couple of hisses & a spit ( my usual foreplay from Kath) I took him to the vets again.
The poor fella, I wish he could speak with me & tell me just what it is that's troubling him, I feel utterly hopeless in my attempts to help him. Taking hold of him by the scruff of the neck I gently put him in the cat box & went to see the unfortunately named Dr Fox (the vet).
Once there Charlie was inspected, injected & then rejected (in a manner of speaking). He had his leg prodded,tummy felt for lumps, his balls felt & the final indignity-a thermometer stuck up his arse.

All it appears was/is normal. The possible conclusion was that (as usual) his sickness is possibly due to a fight. He may have a would that is infected ? on/near his back thigh that is infected under the skin-ugh!!
Anyways, he was given an antibiotic injection, a script for some more analgesics & the instruction to bring him back in 2/52 for a blood test.

Then.....as if in an act of passive protest Charlie pisses on the floor of the examination room!! Thats my boy!!

All this cost me £53.60p....but there is no price on love is there?

A couple of rants & a catch up.....

Me & Kate went down to London this week. We got the coach & went to the Tate Modern art gallery & had a delightful time. However the day was a tad marred by by the crowds-thousands of people appear to have flooded into the city for the bloody Royal Wedding. Outside broadcast TV trucks were all over the place, portaloos seemed to be literally growing out of the ground in readiness for the urinary & faecal needs of those plebs who are foolish enough to give up their time to watch this the royalist of marital fiasco's. Crazy.
Me? I don't give a tinkers cuss about the wedding. Its on every TV station from first thing in the morning, it seems as if the whole of the damn country has gone mad. To be honest I'd sooner stick a hot poker up my arse than watch it.....I have no interest, though I do wish the two of em good luck

To a worry I have: I am quite worried about my cat. Poor Charlie has lost his joie de vie, he's not jumping onto the window sill anymore, walking slowly & winces each time I stroke his right rear thigh. Bless him, he's still eating though. I took him to the vet, his TPR were OK (this was last week) but I got some painkillers for him. They appear to help a little but he's still in pain-he hissed at my daughter a while ago when she stroked his thigh. I don't know whats amiss with him but I'm taking him back to the vet on Saturday morning. Watch this space.

So now its Syria that's in turmoil.
People are once again dying. Being slaughtered by their own despotic leader while the world gazes passively on. Tell me then, why is the world doing nothing, why are the rich nations of the West intervening & coming to the aid of the populace of Syria? Simple.....There's no oil in Syria.

Back to the Royal wedding folks: I see that Prat Cameron has withdrawn the Syrian ambassadors invitation to the wedding. Crap!! What a pathetic gesture from a sexist, patronising Prime Minister. Moreover, if we were to do this with any morality, the invitations open to other nations in the world who oppress their citizens should be withdrawn. I'm thinking of Saudi Arabia-who have invaded Bahrain & govern their own people with a cruel despotic hand. But there again, Saudi do supply us with Oil-we don't want to upset them do we??? What hypocrite's we are aren't we!!

I won't bore you any more people, and if you are watching the wedding...don't mind me, I'm a grumpy old man!

What is the point?!?!

This evening I saw a commercial on television that caused me to question the sanity of the average UK shopper.

The commercial in question was advertising toilet paper. The stuff is apparently quilted & "extra, extra soft...." The commercial features a cuddly bear wrapped in the stuff. It really is total crass.

For God's sakes its toilet paper... its for wiping your backside on. save your money & the planet people, buy the (much) cheaper stuff cos after all it only gets flushed away.

Spring morning in Birmingham

The air outside in my garden is still this morning. Bright yellow Daffodils announce to the world that new life was being born again, & theres blossom on the plum tree at the bottom of the garden. But today is chilly at 9*c, the sun hiding its face behind grey clouds while the nuthatch goes about his business; nest building, & teasing Charlie. I've seen two new birds in the grey sky this morning. They weren't nest building though. They are a dull colour & their song chills me to the bone. They prey on the maimed, the scared & the traumatized. They song is mournful as their wings beat the air of south Birmingham. One of these birds is called 'The Merlin' -not the stuff of King Arthur is this wizard though, rather its an army helicopter carrying yet more wounded & damaged young soldiers to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital. Close by in attendance is its sibling the Chinook, the thud, thud, thud of his wings rhythmically seems to cry "prepare the sick beds for the damaged souls that I hold in my belly". And then the beasts disgorge their victims leaving them to the physicians to attempt a healing. Then the birds fly off to search for more prey. Today spring is monochrome & has a song of pain & sadness about it. Stop this war now!! Cull the Merlin & Chinook.

Cameron, I think I have it sorted for you.....

I'm not sure about the UK et al involvement in this Libya thing. I reckon that we hear propaganda from all 3 sides in this conflict. I do know that each time a Cruse missile is launched it costs £3,000,000. That is just about money to keep me supplied with Abbot Ale for life. (just). Seriously though, what the hell is going on here? Cameron & his Judas catamite Clegg announced that they plane to scrap so many RAF fighter bombers & squadrons the other week. But Dave I got an idea!!! Ok, so we need planes to bomb the world & Gods Mother over there in Libya. We ain't got those planes. Sooooo..... why not spend a few bob & hire some Ryan Air &/or EasyJet planes to do the job(s) for you? Job sorted Dave!

Me......? Clumsy??

I'm a bit ungainly I'll admit.....6ft 3ins, weight about 14stone, 33'' legs , size 12 (UK) shoes & if all that weren't enough I'm as blind as a bat-short sight. The odds are stacked against me I'm sure you'll agree people. But honest I don't deliberately set out to reek havoc & leave a trail of destruction wherever I go, its not my intention to leave in my wake a scene that resembles the the turmoil that the tornado left in Moseley a few years ago. I recall a sad, shameful 'situation' a few years ago when I was a CPN based in Stechford. As be my usual wont I walked in a some dog turd. I then trailed the offending shite, (complete with horrendous smell) throughout the building. The whole damn building stank like a Parisian sewer. My mate & colleague John, with the honesty & (?) tact that is peculiar to those former residents of East London said something like "Facking 'ell Woollie wot you walked in?" He then pointed to all the debris left on the carpets throughout the base. The shame of it. I then became known as 'Captain Cack'. Anyhow. Yesterday was as you all know April Fools Day. And in true to form the Gods sent me trouble. Going into base I tripped head first over a paving slab, tore my trousers & bled my knee. You know theres something about taking a tumble in public ain't there? You feel a total prat don't you? You look around to make sure that NO ONE saw you trip & fall. & then you pretend that you ain't hurt. You could have broken your leg in 1/2 dozen places but fuck it, you get up PDQ & dart off to where you gotta go. Then..... Preparing the interview room to assess a patient I attempted to put a battery in the clock. The clock came off the wall, dropped on the floor, the glass broke & I left a dirty great hole in the wall where the screw once was that secured the clock to the wall. As luck would have it Robin (my manager) is very sympathetic & understanding. So ended April Fools Day 2011. Oh, my shoes?? Their knackered. Then soles come off the left shoe.