Its late but I have to tell you www.wreckingballradio.net, available via website and other places, IS THE GREATEST RADIO STATION ON EARTH! BAR NONE! I dictate these words to Himself accompanied by some of the greatest current music you can ever hear.
Well, goodness me. Where does this view start? So much to write about. Perhaps I need to clear my head after spending a night away when The Boss went off gallivanting to his pal Jenny’s 70th birthday party down in Ross on Wye. Somehow he persuaded his mate Rachel to go with him and I was left in the care of her son Joe and daughter Maddie. Lovely people they are too, but why couldn’t he book a room for me instead of booking one for Rachel? Same cost and I could have gone to the party as his plus 1 pal. I would have been the star, stolen the show I suppose, – I always do – but oh no you know, he just needed his beautiful mate on his arm and this handsome beast being left spoilt back here. I hope it cost him a fortune is all I can say. I let him know I wasn’t too pleased when he came back. I gave a big welcome – ran around Rachel’s house like a mad thing – but when we got back to Rumpy Pumpy I lay with my back to him all day. I really wanted to have the wind to emphasise the point, but I must confess to you that all attempts were a bit of a failure.
We are mates again, of course, because I love him really and he does always spoil me eventually after leaving me. He thought he was spoiling me when he took me to see Auntie Karen last week. I love Auntie Karen, but since the arrival of border collie Alf I feel she loves me a little bit less, which is understandable because Alf’s a good (& handsome) young pup. Well I thought he was anyway, until the young bastard Alf wanted to play so much he jumped up and his paw ripped open my nose! I yelped and sought refuge near the boss in Auntie Karen’s kitchen, depositing blood as I went. Poor Alf, he was mortified but not as much as me, I can tell you. I’ve been quite good folks because I really could have played this one. But I’ve been very calm and good. Mind you, when I next see the young pup I may suddenly become a wolf and chase the git around the courtyard like I do with the cats. Usain Bolt, you’ve seen nothing when I set off!
The Old Boy has been struggling to get his back repaired. His pathetic attempts at the exercises given him by the physio should be an embarrassment to him. I so wish I could video them for you! God knows how, but the minimal stuff he has done seems to have worked. However. His knees are playing up a bit (since about 1999 is my guess) but now this week he tells me he thinks he’s got –I quote – “a bit of gout” in one of his big toe’s!! Let me be clear guys, if you drank red wine like he does it wouldn’t just be in your big toe!
The big toe has given him the excuse of not moving about much (my goodness, he doesn’t need much excuse for that), so we’ve sat together and watched the latest edition of the Westminster Circus (Brexit Edition). Coming out soon as a box-set. The Incredible Hulk takes on Road Runner (or similar) because lets face it, whichever view you take this parliament is the biggest shambles I’ve ever seen in my lifetime. To make it all worse, we’ve suffered the annual performance of party conferences (at least, Him Indoors called them that but I can think of several better descriptions)
First we had the Liberal Democrats. We barely watched their shenanigans, although Himself said to me “at least they’re honest”. Speak quietly friends, but he helped form Bewdley’s Liberals back in 1973/74!!!!! It is where his heart lays. But not when Farron or Cable were in charge. Loved Clegg apparently (“brightest politician for years”). I feel he has a soft spot for young Swinson, so we could have some fun with him over next few months.
Whilst that lot were trying to save the planet, the Supreme Court set about giving poor old Boris a good rogering! Their decision was so important, I’m not certain even Him Indoors has grasped its gravity for the future of our democracy.
Meanwhile the Labour Party turned up. In Brighton. (I hope his son was working out of town or he’d be down there throwing eggs). Him Indoors treats them now as a cartoon joke book. As we sat there, and he listened, to these jokers (as he refers to them without exception) he started laughing. Loudly. Non-stop. And then his laughter turned to a bit of a sob. He gave me a cuddle, and whispered in my very attractive left ear (my best side, I believe) “ how can some good ideas be so totally ruined by such Marxist/Trotskyist/Leninist stupidity”. Then he points to the TV at Rebecca Long-Bailey or Angela Rayner (or somebody like them) and shouts about people called Milne, Schneider, Murphy and Murray with their Winchester & Oxford educations telling The Old Trot what to do! And worse, telling the hard-working folk of the country they are only entitled to shite education and they are not allowed to have any aspirations.
It’s a long time since I saw him so jumping up and down. But, of course, the next thing we knew was the Supreme Court judgement and that next day and since deserves my full concentration.
I love you all, and we haven’t even gone near United or Donald Trump!!!
Woof! Woof!
A waggy tail and dog licks to you all. I’ll be back shortly!
Leave a Reply