See, that’s love...

Regular readers will remember my story a couple of weeks ago about my mother-in-law's feelings about my tattoos. (Find the post here.)

And yet, last week the wife and I received a parcel from Italy. In it were a pandoro, a panettone, a Christmas present for each of us (including Cat), a Settimana Enigmistica for Red, a copy of the latest Dylan Dog for me, and ... a tattoo magazine. She may not dig or understand tattoos, but still she went to the newsagent and got me a tattoo mag. I thought that was very sweet of her.

Cat. Arm. Shagging.

I get quite a few hits to this blog from people typing "cat humping arm" and similar search terms into Google. This is because of this post written more than two years ago.

In the time that has passed since, Cat has completely given up on shagging my arm. I think it's because -- SLIGHTLY DISTURBING MENTAL IMAGE ALERT! -- one night, as he, ahem, finished, he caught his, ahem, cathood(?) in my bracelet. Since that night he has shunned my forearms in favour of Red's. She's getting it every which way most evenings. In fact, if she doesn't get a visit in the dark as we're readying ourselves for the Land of Nod, we suspect the wee lad is feeling under the weather.

But today a new low (or high) has been hit.

Checking our respective mail, Facebook, MySpace, forums, etc before breakfast (my God, we've become Intraweb slaves!) we were joined by Cat in the office space.

"Mau," he said.
"Hey, kitty," I replied.
"Mau."
"'Sup dude?"
"Mau."
"Yeah, just a minute and we'll come and have breakfast with you."
"Mau."
"Shhh."
"Mau. ... Mau. ... Mau. ... Mau. ... Mau. ..."

Red decided to go see what he wanted. Five minutes later she returned.

"He just wanted sex," she said. "He's quiet now." And so he was. I'm wondering now whether it was "Ma" that he was saying. And also whether I can learn a thing or two from him when it comes to getting my wicked way.

Scrappy cats

The night before last, we noticed that Cat was limping (click his name to see what he says about the experience). He wasn't limping a lot, but I'm pretty observant when it comes to animal behaviour. One time, we had been at Red's mum's house about two minutes, straight off the plane, and I saw the cat and said, "She's got something wrong with her paw, I think her claws are too long," and sure enough one had grown so long that it had punctured her pad. Straight to the vet.

Anyways, back to our very own Cat. We took hold of him and tried gently squeezing his foot to see if it elicited any kind of reaction. Nothing, just an overbearing sense of "Fucking humans" on his part.

So we left it overnight, but there was no obvious improvement. Yesterday morning we ummed and aahed about whether or not to go to the vet, just to be on the safe side, eventually deciding to go.

The vet had a good look around and manipulated the leg in all possible ways, getting hissed at in the process. (Not by me.) And -- voilà! -- there he found a small cat bite resulting from one of the many fights Cat seems to get himself into. So now we're into antibiotics-land. Oh, the joy...

Non-Lynch stuff

Some exciting news from Cat
A film review (such as it is)

“My inspiration has run dry”

Venice: Unlike me, not dry.

What better title for a post than a Natalie Imbruglia lyric? That's right, folks, nothing is right, I am, y'know, torn and shit. Yup, I’m as dry as a nun's cunt, as we used to say back in my old hometown.

The reason for this desert-like state of bloggy being is, as it always is with me, a valanga of work. (That's your Italian lesson of the day. Valanga [literally "avalanche"] is used to mean "shitload".)

Saturday morning I started working at 6am and I finished at 8pm. In between, any breaks I had were used to eat lunch, go food shopping and to the post office, and start clearing out the kitchen.

Sunday I started work at about 8:30am, having had a bit of lie-in, and I finished at 6pm so that I could do some more work clearing the kitchen and have my dinner. I then went back to work at 11:25pm for an hour.

What's with all the kitchen clearing? Well, this week is the week we are having our new kitchen fitted. Everything is changing (except the cooker and washing machine, and I think we are beginning to regret that we didn't decide on new ones of those, too).

So for most of this week we will be without a cooker, oven, and hob, and we also won't have a kitchen sink. Red spent much of her "free time" at the weekend preparing some delicious Italian dishes that we can throw in the microwave, rather than resorting to takeaways every night.

Yes, a fun weekend was had by all. We're into equal-opportunity misery in this household. Even Cat gets a piece of the action. He has been put in a cattery for the week (we call it a spa retreat when he's nearby). This is because the last time we had workmen in (for the bathroom a couple of years ago), he got so freaked out that he legged it out through the back door and we never saw him for hours. When he finally returned he was very quiet. And at about 11pm we realized that he had cut open almost the entire length of the lower part of one of his back legs. Midnight trip to the vet. Severed the ligaments. Hit or miss whether he'd ever be able to use it again. But Doctor Jim was a fucking total genius and you'd never know now from pictures like this the extent of the original wound. We don't want to go through that shit again.

Right, it's 9am. I'd best get to work. I hope to get round to some of my blogpals and check out what y'all have been writing in recent days. Toodle-oo.

Look at my package!

How often does one get a parcel in the mail that says this on it? Come on, now, you can't tell me it's an everyday occurrence... It came from Canadaland, y'know, from Captain Karen of the Good Ship HMS Swiftsure.


There were some skull mittens for both me and the missus. Sure, cynics among you might say, "But it's summertime, Mr * (asterisk), why would you want mittens?" To that I respond: "Yeah, but we have English summers in England. Of course I'll need mittens!" And they are damn toasty as well as tasty, Cap'n. And don't you think they look great on me doing my Raging Bull Skull impression?

But there were other goodies, too -- too many to show here, including chocolate-covered cocoa beans, a copy of Dostoevsky's Crime & Punishment, toys for Cat, and a typically Canadian fridge magnet (right). I have it on good authority that every home in Canada has at least one of these on their refrigerator. And they sit down on their kitchen stool staring at it lovingly while listening to the government-issued CDs (below) compiled by Karen for the purposes of mind control.



Thank you, Karen, for such a wonderful parcel. Big love to you. With our colour-coordinated skull mitts, Red and I would surely be the toast of our small town (if we ever dared to venture out among the natives, that is).

Other posts from Casa AsteRed

I may well not get around to posting here today, but you can check out other stuff at these highly recommended blogs:

A film clip with poetry at Cat: A Blog of Disasters;

A movie review at Such As They Are;

An amusing tale of linguistics and music at Red-Letter Day.

Go, my friends, and enjoy them all!

Early morning postings

Nothing new here just yet, but Cat has updated his blog with a tale of more disaster.

And you'll find a review of the film Junebug over at Such As They Are. Upcoming reviews include Lost Highway, Domino, and The Libertine.

Thinking about things, like a walk in the park, things, like a kiss in the dark

Actually, I'm not thinking about things like that at all. Well I do occasionally go for a walk in the park, and that's nice. I'm enjoying walking more often. And it's the best way to explore a new city when you go away for a break.

I'm not thinking about a kiss in the dark, either. Although I do occasionally have kisses in the dark. Best not say any more about that, though ;-)

What I am thinking about follows.

1. My birthday. It's only four weeks away today. In four weeks -- that's two fortnights, twenty-eight days, etc -- I will be 37 years old. It's weird, because just yesterday I was thinking that I was 38. So realizing I'm not even 37 yet makes me feel even younger. Maybe this is one of the greatest things about being a toy boy: you already see that being older is not so bad.

2. Valentine's Day. It's only one week away, guys, so don't forget to buy something nice and/or make a special effort for the loved one in your life. At the risk of sounding like a brown-noser (or should that be "pussy-whipped wuss"?), I try to do nice stuff year round for my woman. Sometimes I fail, though. It seems I criticize more than I ought to. I don't even realize I'm doing it, so I'm gonna make a real effort to fix that.

3. Work. Face it, we all gotta do it from time to time. It's taking me away from blogging as much as I'd like, too. Oh well. Actually, that's not strictly true. I somehow find time to write a post each day, but I'm struggling to find time to visit all my fave hangouts. Sorry to you all, but I am making efforts to rectify that too.

4. The weather. Apparently we're going to be hit with a shitload of snow over the next 24 hours. Brrrrrr. The logs are in the cellar ready for a nice open fire.

5. Spring cleaning. Yes, I know that's a bit of a girlie thing to think about, but our cellar is a damn mess. There are two DVD players to throw out (they don't work) and one 24-inch TV, which I suspect no longer works because it's been in the cellar too long. There's also a huge stack of videotapes to sort out, and a big box full of paper to recycle. PLUS we have to sort out the lounge because we have a new piece of furniture coming soon, so we need to make room for it.

6. Cat. He hasn't blogged in a long while, and I fear his few readers are losing patience. It's not through want of trying; he just never gets a look in on the computers these days. He sends his apologies.

7. Films. I am loving watching movies again recently, so much so that I can't keep on top of my reviews (such as they are).

8. The new David Lynch film Inland Empire. This is the film I am most looking forward to this year. Tomorrow there is a screening in London, with a Q&A with Lynch afterwards. I entered a competition to win tickets, but I doubt I'll get them. And even if I do, with the impending snowstorm set to paralyze the nation, I'm not sure I could get there and back...

Anyways, I think that's all I'm thinking about today. Oh, and you, of course.

That package from Chuck

Just as we were putting Cat in the car to go to the cattery on the morning of 8 January, I espied our postman walking down the terrace. (Cat will have plenty to post about about his spa retreat, too, so keep your eyes peeled for that.)

"Hi there," I said, in my usual cheery way. "Anything I can take off your hands?" He replied in the affirmative, dug deep into his sack (tee hee, I said "sack"!), and pulled out a white box measuring 21 x 14.5 x 8 cm (8.25 x 5.75 x 3 inches).

It was addressed with a large address label to me, and it had a blue Airmail sticker on it. A quick glance at the sender's address revealed it to be from someone named simply "Palahniuk" c/o his agent's New York address.

I was so excited, but I knew I had to contain myself until after the trip to the cattery. Wife was amazed at how cool I was about it, but I had to stay focused on the job at hand! The opening of the box would have to be done methodically, taking the time to appreciate its contents to the full. According to the customs label on the side, the box contained CDs and toys, to a total value of $10 (£5). The label was also signed by Chuck himself on 30 December. Wow, he was even working on this letter-answering task right through the Christmas holidays.

What follows here is some pictures of the contents of the box. Note that the pics were not taken at the time of the initial opening (I didn't have my brain in gear enough to document that), so the craziness of all the purple glitter that flew everywhere with each slight movement is a little lost. In fact, the glitter got so everywhere, that we even found some on the carpet of our hotel room in Seville. I guess it got stuck to something
-- clothes, shoes, whatever -- and travelled there with us. Or it may have been stuck to the small box of the chocolates we took with us from the box, and that Chuck had said I should give to Wife, "as part of her birthday gifts".


The signed customs label...


The top of the letter...


My power cow!...


A peek at the package...


And another peek...


And another...


And here are the CDs. I've removed my name, natch.


Look: he even asked after my holiday. What a guy!


The full list of contents reads like this, and might I point out that I think that's more than $10 worth of stuff, Chuck!

first and foremost, the letter itself
my Power Animal: a cow (although it has horns, so I guess it's a bull)
2 exclusive CDs of Chuck reading short stories, one dedicated, the other signed
self-adhesive "My name is" name badge, à la Fight Club, signed
black-and-white photo of Chuck with chicken, signed
Silly Putty (I used to love this stuff as a kid)
a rubber severed, bloody finger
flick-knife comb (I used to have one as a kid, and I loved it)
box of four chocolates, which Chuck suggested I give to Wife
pen knife (surely that's not legal to send through the mail?!)
glowstick necklace
2 bouncy balls
10 plastic Roman coins
tip of a spear
24 normal birthday candles
8 "relighting" birthday candles
deck of magic cards
12-page pirate colouring book
4 mini crayons
tin of sugar-free mints
rubber spider
mini harmonica
journal
carrot seeds
money-plant seeds
herb seeds
forget-me-not seeds
temporary tattoos
postcard for the book Clown Girl, which has an introduction by Chuck

Cat in “new post” shocker!

Yep, Cat has finally updated his blog. Check it out here.

Wednesday stuff

I'm having one of those don't-really-know-what-to-blog-about moments today. What makes this especially frustrating is that I don't have a huge amount of things to do. Oh, the irony: time on my hands, but nothing in my head... I'll put together, then, a little list of things that have crossed my mind in recent days.

• When I did that list of famous people I've met or seen in the street, one person I left off is a guy I wrote and recorded some songs with a good few years ago. He's not yet famous, but he has been continuing to write and record his own stuff and looks to be on the verge of a breakthrough. This leaves me faced with a dilemma. Do I e-mail him and say, "Hey, congrats on the success. How's it going?" Or do I wait till he has a No.1 single then try to sell the recordings of me and him together?

• With Wife and I heading off to Seville, Spain, in just over a month's time, we really need to take a few Spanish lessons, just so we have a vague idea of what the natives are saying to us. Trouble is, I keep forgetting to phone potential tutors. I'll do it right after this post, promise.

• A couple of weeks ago, I accidentally e-mailed a colleague from my blogaboutnowt address. I didn't realize until he phoned me up and asked, "Are you Blog About Nowt?" I didn't know where to put myself. Now, if someone I knew e-mailed me with an obvious blog type e-mail address, I know I'd check it out. So I'm sure he has. It's all a bit embarrassing, isn't it?

• On Saturday, while I was working, I spilled the tiniest amount of coffee on my keyboard. Ten minutes later, my keyboard started doing funny things. It wouldn't stop doing funny things. Now I'm using the keyboard from my old computer, feeling very glad that I haven't yet managed to sell it. I'm told, though, that if you get coffee in your keyboard, you should run in under a tap (faucet) for a few seconds, and then leave it upside down in the airing cupboard for a couple of days. It seems that it's not the liquid that's bad for it, but the stickiness of a substance -- coffee, for example.

• I haven't called my mum in ages. The last time we spoke, I found her very distant and uncommunicative. I feel bad for saying it, but I kind of feel it's her turn to call me. Especially given that I've never spoken to her new beau and don't particularly want that first conversation to be one where he happens to pick up the phone. Talk about awkward moments...

• A project I've been working on for the past three to four months is finally at an end. Tonight I want to drink Prosecco to celebrate. It's been a tough, tough, tough project -- possibly the toughest I've ever had.

• I've started buying Christmas presents for Wife. In fact, I've even started giving them to her, too. First one was yesterday. Listen up, girlie: that's the only one you get before Christmas, 'kay?

• The other day I bought that film Hostel on DVD. I've not watched it yet. I know it's going to be grisly and gory. I also know it's not as grisly and gory as the publicity would lead you to believe. But I still have reservations about watching it for some reason. I think it's more that the premise is so believable in concept. Still, it was only £7.

• I am hoping to take Friday off. That'll be nice. Not sure what to do yet, but it'll likely involve shopping and eating.

• I've been meaning to do a post about porn for ages, but it's proving difficult to find the right angle. No pun intended.

• There's washing up waiting for me. I should really do it. But I have to call Spanish teachers first.

• When I took the rubbish out to the bin, Cat went into the alley behind the house. He's not come back yet. Although I know he's perfectly safe and can easily jump the wall to come back in, I'm never entirely happy until he returns. This is one reason I know I'd be a terrible overprotective parent.

That's all for now.

Cat’s feeling cranky

A sleepless night, cat humping, Helen Willetts, and other stuff

It's 3:39 a.m. as I start typing this post. I can't sleep. This often happens if I go to bed too early, and last night I hit the sack at around 10:30. I woke first at about 1, then again a couple of hours later. I'm sure the bit that proper woke me up, though, was Cat deciding to hump my arm, as he does now and again. Which is why so many people come to this blog when searching for "cat humping" in Google.

While he was doing the do, all I could think about was that godawful song "My Humps", and I blame this chap for that, specifically this post. Thanks Steve. Oh, I mean not thanks, the other thing. What's the opposite of thanks? Steve is the latest addition to my daily reads, thanks to Lee. And this time I really do mean thanks.

Another search term that brings people here revolves around the possibility of weather girl Helen Willetts being pregnant. Now I have not got the slightest idea why people would care whether or not Helen was up the duff, with child, has a bun in the oven, whatever. But I can, here and now, non-exclusively reveal that she is indeed pregnant. I saw her on TV last night, and there is absolutely no doubt. Helen, I do not know you, but good luck.

On the subject of celebrity rumours and the like, I have some incredible and exclusive news regarding a pretty big star. I can't say too much right now, but I will be posting later today on that subject. You seriously will not want to miss that, so pop back again in a few hours.

I'm going to flip a coin now to decide whether it's best to read for a while (I started another Dennis Lehane book) or do some work. Ooh, tough decision.

My cat loves blogging

... but he doesn't get around to it as often as he should. Feel free to check out his latest entry over at Catablog of Disasters. Heck, let your kitties read it, too!

The worst thing about cats

Yesterday, just after Wife and I had watched Casanova, the cat-flap opened. Wife looked down to greet Cat, as we always do, and then shrieked, "What have you got there?!"

This usually scares the shite out of me, because it is often followed by Cat saying, "Oh, it's just a mouse," and as he does that he drops the cunting thing on the floor and it scuttles away under some piece of furniture or other.

On this occasion, though, it was a bird. He started to go upstairs. I gave him a stern "no", but he ignored me and ran upstairs and under our bed. I lifted the valence, or counterpane, or whatever the fuck it's called, to look under the bed, and there I found the bird. Dead as a dodo. I gently scooped him up into a small box. His neck was broken and he had blood around his beak. His little eyes were closed and his claws were clenched.

It was a beautiful bird, in death just as it had been in life. A life cut tragically short by our cat. I love Cat, and I love cats, but this is the price we have to pay for keeping these great hunters in our homes while allowing them the freedom to enjoy the outside world.

Hellzapoppin’, Cat’s a-bloggin’!

God, I can't leave my desk for even a minute. That dang cat has been at it again. Go on, take a look. It's about home improvements...

“Cat Alarm” – a poem

That blogging cat of mine has been at it again. Check him out.

And here's a poem I like to call "Cat Alarm".


Wake up!
HELLO!
It’s 4:30 a.m. –
time
to
feed
me.
Follow
me
downstairs.

Oh, sorry,
seems I had food all along.
Well, stay a while
and watch me eat.

You know what?
Actually, I’m not hungry.
I’m going out instead.
You, go back to bed.

Five things: I’ve been tagged

ACT has tagged me to do this five-things thing, and it's been a while since a tagging so what the hey, eh?

Five Things in My Freezer
1. Lots of ice because the freezer badly, BADLY needs defrosting
2. Two ice cubes in a cracked ice-cube tray (must remember to fill it up again)
3. King prawns
4. A frozen quiche that has probably passed its use-by date
5. A little baggie of prawns that were a gift for Cat from a neighbour about four years ago

Five Things in My Closet
1. Not me. I'm straight, got it?
2. A box of Manic Street Preachers T-shirts
3. Some clothes that are absolutely covered in Cat's hairs from when he used to sleep there. Before he went over to "the other side"
4. A great Sailor Jerry shirt that I bought in New York but is about 19 sizes too big for me
5. A leather jacket decorated and painted with Adam & The Ants badges and logos

Five Things in My Car
1. A gearstick (are you jealous, my American friends?!)
2. A steering wheel
3. Seats
4. Foot pedals for accelerating, braking, and "clutching"
5. A roof that doesn't leak

Five Things in My Purse (umm, well my "manbag" when I use it)
1. My wallet
2. Mobile phone
3. Pens
4. Shades
5. Sunglasses

And the five I'm tagging are...
1. Camie Vog at Perfect Blue Buildings
2. The Cappuccino Kid at The Tranquility of Solitude
3. Tanya at Start Wearing Purple
4. The Wanted Man at Are You up to the Test!?
5. Suze at AlexSuze.com

I hope this cunt dies a horrible death, and soon, along with his cunt friends

I've lifted this directly from the BBC news story.

Teenager detained for cat cruelty

A teenager has been detained for four months after a cat was hurled from the fifth floor of a tower block.
Christopher Lees, 18, provided running commentary as a mobile phone was used to film the cat being repeatedly thrown 60ft from a balcony. [NB: It is thought that the cat was thrown at least four times.]

The cat had to be put down after its ordeal in Druids Heath, Birmingham.

Lees, of Wilsford Close, Druids Heath, who admitted animal cruelty at an earlier hearing, was also banned from keeping animals for five years.

Three other teenagers involved, aged 14, 16 and 17, will be sentenced next month.

The cat, called Kharlo and owned by a local student, was put down by a vet after suffering brain damage and multiple fractures last October.

The footage of the cruelty was passed around on mobile phones before it was reported to police and the RSPCA, Birmingham Magistrates' Court heard.

Sentencing Lees, chair of the bench Richard Trengrouse said: "The cat was hurled from a fifth floor balcony and there was untold fear and harm to the animal.

"You were not satisfied with this, you videoed and commentated on it. Your comments in the video were callous and you showed no compassion or decency."

As the oldest member of the group, Lees should have stopped the cruelty from taking place, said Mr Trengrouse.

RSPCA Insp Rob Hartley said: "I'm delighted with the sentence being passed by the magistrates today.

"This was a sick and cruel act on a defenceless animal. It is hard to imagine the suffering this animal was put through by this individual."