Davina, Bacon and Tit Bits

I be sure it ain't normal to fall asleep during ye workout but I do. Do ye all do that or is it just me? I bet Davina don't have this problem!  I ain't cut out for all this exercise malarky I tell ye. It ain't natural. I don't think it be good for me arferitis at all- it be hurting too much to get down on that exercise mat even. Then I have to roll round the living room looking for something to pull me poor aching tired body back up with. On the plus side I can see right under settee and today I found a pen top, a penny, a bit o bacon from me pizza t'other night, and a bit o chocolate. The bacon and the chocolate was still good to go- once I took the fluff off- tasty combination if I must say so mineself. Mines Mr Husband finds it all a bit disgusting. I says to him 'Ye would be glad enough to eat it if ye was hungry. And if ye would let me have a dog I wouldn't find bits of food on the floor cos he would beat me to it. And not only but also if I didn't have to get down and do these stupid workouts I wouldn't find 'em either cos I wouldn't see that far down'. I told him I ain't getting down for no more workouts. He said 'ye must me little pickled pumpkin- it be good for ye joints'. I told him straight the only thing that gets me down there is knowing I might find some food under the settee whilst I been down there-ye can find some tasty tit bits under there - ye can keep ye pen tops and ye pennies. (Secretly hoping he might put some cake down there everyday now to get me down there- and I won't be worrying about getting back up). I want to wish mines little sister (the one with the issues and the day confusion) all the best in her new adventures- don't be getting yeself into any trouble and keep away from the freaks!! We shall miss ye. xxxx

Boobies, Knickers, and Fashion Faux Pas

Ye all been thinking that I been very quiet this week. Well I been very busy. Monday I did visit mines Mother and Father and Mines children and mines Mr Ex husband and mines sister (the one with the issues and the day confusion).T'was when mines Mr Husband found he was having car issues and T'was just before his nipples fell off! Then Tuesday I went to Tesco- tis always a long day. I don't want to start Jam Sponge Pudding Gate again but Mines Mr Husband also pointed not only do thems food banks want JSP they want feckin custard to go with it. Mines Mr Husband won't let me go to tesco again if I am going to rant all the way home he said. Also I stripped off and tried new PJ's on in Aisle 3. Made the manager cross so I did- he has warned me about this before. I said 'No ye didn't- T'was when I tried knickers on before'. Yesterday we went Torquay. As soon as we got there Mines Mr Husband saw the bouncy castle. Then it started 'I wanna go on the bouncy castle, Please let me go on the bouncy castle'. Nag, nag, nag. Then he said 'No- mines little fruitcake- no bouncy castle for you. The last time you bounced too hard and that little child bounced off and went over the sea wall didn't he?' I reminded him T'was not my fault if a stupid mother puts a child on a bouncy castle. Who is that stupid I Ask you? They are not places for children. No Siree. Then he said ' The answer is still no. You got that bladder thingy problem and soon as ye jumps and downs its like a feckin flood. Plus that there squeaking I am sure was your rear end and not the bouncy castle. If ye asks to go on it again I will put you in the car and take you back home. And keep your clothes on'. I only pointed out one fashion faux pas on this trip - all I said was 'Jeez woman, are you feckin mad? A white dress, with a navy bra? and orange knickers with blue spots? Don't ye have any fashion sense? ' I thought she was a tad irritable meself- (probably PMT) but fortunately I am good at ducking. DUCKING I said. I thought 'mmm, good jobs mines Mr Husband got a bit of padding round his middle or that could have really hurt him'. Mines Mr Husband often commends me on my ducking skills. I think that's what he said. Then we saw the Red Arrows. The weather was a bit iffy and they said they didn't know if the Red Arrows would come. So I thought 'well I have never been one to be put off by a drop of rain' and I climbed on the sea wall and Mines Mr Husband said 'Come down off of there at once'. I said 'no, if the red arrows don't come all these peoples will be disappointed so I am going to show them my boobies'. The man from the BBC was on the sea wall. I am sorry he fell off when I lifted my top. T'was a shock for him. Anways the red arrows came and the one that went round the garden on Sunday- I am sure he waved and shouted out 'Show us ye knickers sex kitten'. So I did. I am sorry the man from the BBC fell off the wall again. Today I helped mines Mr Husband mend the car because I am the brains in this outfit. Also had to protect mines nipples. Going to be somewhat quieter now I thinks cos mines Mr Husband is working - Saturday is coming and is sing along with Beth and Elvis day but mines Mr Husband will be sleeping so I guess I will just be miming. 

Pelvic floor, Arseholes and 8 and a half inches to be exact.

I have been putting the world to rights today with mines cousins. I only made a comment on facebook about food banks requesting jam sponge pudding and it near enough started world war three- tis now an incident that I can only call' jam sponge pudding gate'. One friend unfriended me but I don't be doing the crying into me pillow thingy. Life be too short. So I shall send her love and peace and healing. I send peace and love and healing to all today- even arseholes. So if ye feels ye arsehole twitching it probably be me- or it could be ye piles. Ye never will know for sure.

The neighbours having turf laid across the road. I did say to the turf man- don't be laying that in the road- it will be ruined there. Get it laid in the back garden- mine preferably. He thought I said 'get laid in my back garden'- that caused a few problems but all is well now.

My cousin is having bladder woes. I told her the hairy chin comes next. I told she need to visit her doctor and get advise about the pelvic floor thingy. Mines Midwife, 33years since, told me 'Do ye pelvic floor exercises everyday'. And I have. She still not told me to stop yet- so I still do them everyday. I have a grip like a bulldog clip. I can sharpen pencils. Release bottle tops. Fire missiles. Recently my GP thought she would do a check on ye old pelvic floor - impertinent I thought- bit personal is that. Still I have had kids, I don't mind ye old check up. Suddenly she gasped 'Oh my word, ye have a strong grip there'. I knew that. 'Aye' I agreed, 'tis true- ye olde midwife told me to do these pelvis floor thingys 33 years since and I haven't seen her since so I have been doing them all this time'. She looked pained for a moment and said 'well he keep it up'- I said 'Aye, it does, that be why Mines Mr Husband always got a grin on his face'. She lost the top of her finger that day. T'was why she had a pained look and T'was last pelvic floor she checked.

Anyways - I can't be sat here all day.  I have to do some sewing because the curtains in the lounge need taking down. I took them up on Mines Mr Husbands measurements- 8 and half inches to be exact but tis ony five and half inches. I shan't be letting him do the measuring again- after all I am the fecking sewist person in this house- should have did the measurements meself! Then I got to make a turtle. And me eggs are on the boil. Tis me age. Tis all go in this house!!

Balls, Boobies and Free Chocolate

So it seems the apology issued yesterday was not quite enough to appease mines Mr Husband and he still says that until I can behave I cannot go again. So more apologies go to:

All the people I terrified who left the water when I stood in the sea shouting 'Shark, Shark- run for your lives' - apparently it was not the shouting that was that problem - it was mines emptying the fake blood into the sea that caused the panic- so sorry about that folks- twice (because I did it twice!but it was fun).

I have to say sorry to the sea worldy place for standing and arguing with the assistant and insisting that they change the description of the white shark to grey because strictly speaking they are grey. Apparently it is not misrepresentation because they have been officially named as white sharks. Tis a big fat lie I tell ye. They are grey. And I suppose I shouldn't have pushed ye into the tank with they buggers cos you did get a nasty ol' nip from one- ye should have just taken my complaint on board and not argued back. Could have save yeself a mass of trouble and ye wouldn't have a chunk missing from ye arse.

To ye olde organ grinder - I am sorry I ground your organ so hard- but twerking be all the rage now. Also I thought ye would like to know your little cappuccino monkey has fitted in nicely with me snow leopards and me wonkey donkeys.

I am sorry to all the shoppers in the supermarket who got arrested because I told ye the chocolate was free today. Did ye not think it was a bit strange that I be standing there with me knickers on me head giving away Dime bars?

To ye man with a funny walk- I only asked if ye sand in crack or if ye had caught any crabs because I was concerned for ye. I wasn't being nosy- honest. There was no need for that language.

To ye olde man that was singing on the promenade- I suppose I shouldn't have that microphone so far up ye arse but ye really was an insult to crooners all world over- ye more like an old croaker. I apologise to the paramedics who had to remove said microphone. Also to ye bit younger man who was singing and said he had been on the X Factor- I told ye I had been on X Factor. I was mistaken. I checked with mines Mr Husband- it was the Max Factor not the X Factor. (BTW your singing is crap which is why ye are now singing on the prom in Torquay and not the stage at the O2 arena.)

To the woman with the nuclear dress - I shouldn't have offered mines Mr Husband to help ye put ye boobies back in- but he is expert with boobies and nipples so he is! How was we supposed to know you had chosen that look especially for the beach.

And finally to ye man who owned the little shop that sold buckets and spades- I am sorry I bounced all ye balls down ye road there- and I am sorry you got hit by the bus trying to retrieve them- but t'was fun wasn't it? If ye like I could visit in ye hospital- (provided it not be in one I be banned from).

Nipples and Melted Chocolate

Don't you just love it gals - the euphoria when after a long day out you get home and rip that darn bra off and find all the lovely memories of the days meals? Yesterday I found a bit of Farley (don't be ye questioning me about my choice in cereal- I bought they on me holidays when I was with mines Little Sister (the one with the issues and day confusion)- and a blob of yogurt; a bit of pulled pork with chilli jam (stuck to me nipple); half a chip; bit of an onion ring (I think) and a chocolate button (melted, but still edible). Bra's definitely have their uses - without them not only would I have nipple burns from their rubbing along the ground but all me bits of dinner would have been lost to the seagulls!

Cracks, Labias flapping and crabs................

Mines Mr Husband took me for a little amble yesterday- on account of him being at work the rest of the week and to stop boredom and rigamortis setting in for me whilst he is there. We started off in a grand little place called Shaldon and somehow ended up in Torquay- we are quite fond of Torquay. However, he has told me I cannot again unless I issue the following apologies- so here goes: Apologies to

To the little fat kid whom I asked for a lick of his ice cream- despite your refusal I did manage to get the chocolate flake. In my defence I have to say I do have a chocolate addiction. And I am sorry for telling you the Karma bogey man would get you if you didn't share.

To the old man and the old woman on the bench- I shouldn't have told you the grim reaper was stood behind you just to get you to move off that bench - to be fair it did backfire a bit because as it turns out he was stood behind you- and to the old lady- I am sorry to hear about your loss.

To the girl in the lime green boob tube dress thingy- I probably shouldn't have told you that it was two sizes to small and we could see you your two sizes too small thong, a spare tyre and almost all of your white?? bra and your bra labels 34b flapping around in the breeze. I bet with that thong being two sizes too small your labels on your bra weren't the only thing flapping in the breeze.

To ALL of the party size gateaux from Iceland shaped women with legs like tree trunks who thought for some reason it would be a good idea to wear mini skirts and size 12 shorts and treat us all to thigh slapping and severe flesh wobbling and crack flashing I apologise for pointing it out- although really? Come on- I know you are on holiday but just because you are party size gateaux from Iceland shaped you can't where is my sense of decency where other people are eating. Nuff said.

To the young man carrying the rather large (empty) crab bucket- I probably shouldn't have pointed out that the girl you were with would soon fill that for you if you carried on dating her- and I know you think I might not know her from Adam but trust me on this- she is definitely not Adam!

To the two mothers on the seafront who were busy looking at their phones- I swapped your babies over but you probably still haven't looked up yet. The baby in the blue sun hat needs his arse changing btw.

I cannot apologise to the young man who I am sure was Harry Styles for winking and twerking in your one direction. Serves you right for smiling in mine!

Also I cannot apologise to the young man to whom I gave my hairbrush- 'Just got out of bed hairstyle, and can you see last nights pizza's and a used condom in it'- Torquay is not the place to sport it. I spent all feckin day trying to get people to look respectable and sort themselves out and then you come along and spoil the whole town with that hair. Get a grip man- or a packet full and pin some of it into place.

To mines Mr Husband - I hope these apologies suffice and please take me again...........

What type of Pussy is yours Madam? and Down on all Fours!

Tis quite quiet round ye know. I think all the kids in the neighbourhood are off with all their fathers and sperm donors for the summer holidays. Ye haven't heard me rave about the neighbours much yet. Well apart from Chloe and Daddy and his brats two doors down. And ye I did mention she next door at 19 - the ironing board shaped one with nice shaped bottom. The other night I heard someone running down our stairs at 4am. I mentioned this to mines Mr Husband. He said it wasn't him. He was tucked up in his little bed. He suggested it may have been one of the neighbours- perhaps her next door- the ironing board shaped one with the nice shaped bottom. I would like to know why she was running down OUR stairs at 4am in the morning. I may have to have words with her. She could be a little more quiet going down our stairs at such an ungodly hour. Also I may have mentioned the skinny bitches over the road and their penchant for jogging which seems to have stopped since I growled at them when I was having a little stroll around the block one morning. Don't trust skinny people who jog and don't eat cake. Over there also are Porky and Mess who are more Pork pie and Cake shaped and most certainly wouldn't let a dirty word like 'jogging' pass their lips- no room to let it- everything else is busy passing through their lips. Also they like Pizza- big ones. And they like soft loo rolls. I know this because I seen them take some in with the shopping. I always wondered what kind of people ate soft loo rolls. Such people do exist! Google it. I thought she had a scruffy ginger pussy and then I thought she had an altogether much neater black one- but I seen Porky refusing it at the entrance the other day so I am not sure which pussy is hers. Or even if she has one! Oe-er, all these pussies must belong somewhere. I have yet to encounter Jamie, wife and bump next door. I have seen the back of her (skinny bitch) and her bump- she has a very unkempt black and white pussy. But as I have said before- bitches with bumps just don't be having the time or inclination to be keeping thems pussies neat. They can't see much below thems bumps and even if an unkempt pussy winds itself around your legs you can only feel it and not necessarily see it. I trust when bump has arrived pussy will get some attention if it is lucky. I have  glimpsed him (Jamie) as he went by in the car. He has a beard and an elbow. She at number 25 has new windows. Over back in t'social housing - the cake shaped woman that squeezes into a bright yellow dress and has dyed red hair- well I haven't seen them for ages. That trampoline will be rusty soon. I may have to go over and just have a bounce or two so I can see through windows to see what is going on. On corner, up yonder, in big house she got a lot of kids. They be all different-like the league of feckin nations. Usually her kids can be seen playing in middle of road- the sort that stand and stare at you like you have no business driving your car in the road where they are playing quite happily. How very dare we? Saturdays is quiet when a whole load of dads line up on the path to collect his child. Or even someone else's - who even knows? We like Saturdays -at least we can drive confidently down the road without fear of a little urchin lurching itself out in front of us and giving us the evil eye. On this corner here a little yappy dog seems to be the sole inhabitant of the house. No-one goes in and no-one comes out. The little dog yaps and yaps. No-one goes in and no-one comes out. No wonder for that little dog's yapping gets right on ye tits. But fear ye not friends for I shall continue to watch and make notes. But I leave ye with one of me tips because I want to be going out now to buy some pink grass:

Tip of the night- I say night- 6.45am is the middle of the night for me- don't go knocking over a glass of bitter lemon juice off ye bedside when he husband sneaks into ye for a cuddle. Why? (No- not why did he he sneak in for cuddle- he always be doing that)- but why not knock a glass of bitter lemon juice off ye bedside? Cos it makes a feckin mess I tell ye. Ye give the landlord sticky patches in places he didn't know he had places. Also Ye gets yeself sticky drawers and knobs and cracks. 6.45am I was naked (all bar one fluffy bed sock) down on me hands and knees, arse (cute) in the air, with soapy water and sponge trying to clean sticky patches off carpet and off drawers and Knobs and Cracks!! Then I says to mines Mr Husband who was running round naked like a headless chicken- 'I think I shall get a rug down yer'- and he said 'just don't be trimming for a week me little fruitcake'. I inhaled his remark and repeated ' I think I shall get a rug down yer'- and he said 'that won't be all ye shall be getting if ye staying in that position for much longer- ye shall be getting a stiff neck'. Ye see guys what I have to put up with- he be wicked!

 

Getting mines boobies photographed...........

Today I had to be brave and go and have mines boobies squashed flat into a machine. Flat enough to be able to put them in an envelope and send them home. Not because I am liking the idea- no siree. But because I thought it will stop peoples nagging me. Mostly the boobies photographing peoples. I expressed to mines Mr Husband the worry I had of messing up the nice nurses machine with my magnetic patches for mines arthritis. 'No worries mine little fruitcake' he said reassuringly, 'Your boobies are no where near your magnetic patches'- I smiled happily that he still thought my more than ample bosom still so pert- then he added 'your boobies are down by your knees so I am sure they won't be able to pick up the magnets on your hips!!!'. And that my friends is why he is on ward 14 and I had to go and have mines boobies photographed all alone!

Well tis how it happened mines mammuffgramthingy and I have to say when they tell you it is not painful they are feckin lying. Nice short arsed nurse - 'I am Alison your receptionist today' took all my details and carried out the Spanish Inquisition all over again to find out why I didn't go two years ago. 'Because I didn't want to' and 'Because we all have to do die of something' and 'Because I don't want to die healthy' didn't cut any ice with the head shaking and tutting Alison. 'Look missus, they be my tits and I do what I fair like with them'. She showed me in a cubicle- what a shenanigans that be. 'Take your top off. Take your bra off (yes I had one on for decency sake and to stop nipple burns on pavement) and put Top back on'. A few minutes late 'I am Alison your receptionist today' put her head through the other side of the cubicle and invited me into the 'machine' room where I was promptly told 'take your top off' again. Then taking one look she says 'Oh- okay, lift your skirt up then'. Fortunately 'I am Alison your receptionist was just the right height'. I wondered why they picked her, now I know because she is booby/knee height. Then she introduced herself as 'I am Alison your radiographer today'. 'There is a woman called Alison just like you t'other side of this wall' I informed her. She never flinched. I concluded that either there is a shortage of photographing boobies staff, or a shortage of short people who can see boobies at knee height. Or two identical Alisons. She needed to lift mines boobies up and place on to a machine at my chin height. I said 'ye be needing both hands to be lifting they me ol' babbers- they be hefty'. She slapped them on a cold slab and then squashed them in between to bits of cold feckin glass and said 'this won't hurt a bit'. Then she twisted them round and in different directions. Even mines Mr Husband don't be doing that with them. Although I did have them all tangled up in me walker thingy a couple of times at zoo last week when I was getting ready for the wrecking ball and elephants trunk. Anyways ' I am Alison your receptionist cum radiographer today' -well she lied. It did hurt. A lot. So now 'I am Alison your receptionist cum radiographer today' is still trying to get her head free from the booby machine. She said as best she could in strained and strangled voice- 'pull your skirt back down and put your top on and have yourself a little treat'. It never said anything about a little treat but seeing her head squashed in there was treat enough treat for me. Oh alright ye know me so well. I had chocolate as well. Mines poor boobies are used to being photographed but not like this and now my poor ample bosom resembles two pancakes. I shan't be going again!

Smurfs and Blue Boobies

Oh ye Gods. I have had the fright of mines life! Mines Mr Husband is goodly soul (goodly- not godly) so he kindly ran me a nice bath with epsom salts to ease my cramp and give me magnesium (tis true we need this in our bodies). I took my lovely new dress off and sunk into my loverly hot bath (because bathing with ones clothes on is plain stupidity- unless ye are pushed in then thats different!). I had a little soak and then I opened my eyes and oh my days my body was going blue. Mine hands and arms was blue, mine knees was blue and so was mines boobies (which reside somewhere near mines knees these days!). I lifted mines arms and underneath was blue. I gasped! Then I panicked. 'Come quickly Mines Mr Husband, come quickly- I am turning into a smurf- call the 999 peoples'. He came quickly (just like a man). 'what is the matter mines little fruitcake? Why all the panic and shouting'. I could have sworn I had told him already. 'Oh Lordy Lordy - I am turning into a smurf. Look at mines blue hands. Look at my blue knees and boobies. And look under mines arms'. He looked. 'You look fine to me', he said - 'you are not turning into a smurf- you are not blue'. I Showed him my wash cloth. 'There you go ' he said 'it's not blue, tis green- tis the dye is running out of your wash cloth'. I looked at my wash cloth 'you feckin eejit' I said 'the wash cloth was white when I got in the bath- we only have white'. We argued back and forth and he wouldn't call the 999 peoples. He said that turning blue or green or any other colour is not an emergency. (I think there is an argument for that somewhere in my little book of emergencies!). Then he said 'tis off your new frock fruitcake- tis the dye'- I thought about this slightly before saying 'But mines new dress is yellow'. Then he started the argument that the new dress is green. 'Ye is colour blind ye daft sod' I said. Anyways I have checked the dress- I could have sworn I have been wearing a yellow dress all day- but tis a bluey green. Think I should have washed it first perhaps! Anyways I have got some of the blue off but I dare not go out for a few days in case I be mistaked for a smurf and added to a collection on a shelf somewhere!

Just a Quickie..........

Mines Mr Husband is taking me today for a treat. He doesn't know it yet. But He is. Just remember this ye folks- Every tip I give ye is worth it's weight in salt. Today's tip is this; fitness pants DO NOT make ye fitter. Buy trousers that fits. Don't wear ye knickers on ye head in Tesco (but ye should get away with it in Asda- they ain't so fussy). Actually don't wear ye knickers. Remember all my advice is sound. If I give thee personal advice then tis just as valid and recall it when make ye decisions! Loves ye all. I am off on adventures!!

Sliding down the trunk and filling the pussies.

I have been very busy. We had mines Mr Husbands little child down for the week. The six foot two one. The six foot two child - not week. That would just be silly. We didn't really know what to do with him. He wanted to see the local sights. I misunderstood this and mines Mr Husband made me put mines clothes back on - again. Three times he made me put mines clothes back on. So I said I could take him round the social housing part of the estate- there be some sights for sore eyes on there but mines Mr Husband said that he didn't want him traumatised so we decided to take him to the zoo. It be a heck of trek for mines poor body but I have a nifty mobile walker thingy that mines father gave me. So T'was not all lost. Plus I did want to see if I could get mines self a penguin to go with mines snow leopards and wonkey donkeys. I packed an empty bag and a tin of 'lure a penguin tuna' so I could sneak one in. Mines Mr Husband drove us and took us on a detour first of all and we became slightly geographically misplaced for a short while. I didn't ever thinks we would ever get there at this rate. In fact we didn't think we would get there for a few days. There were ever so many tantrummy, screamy, naughty step brats at the zoo who have all spent their short lives being super nanny disciplined. (To no real effect it seems at all). They was really getting on my tits and under mines feet. I clipped one round the ear as often as I could. Well not the same one. That just would have been cruel. Just random ones as they ran by screaming. 'Screaming is no place for a zoo, and the zoo is no place for children' I told them. I thought it would be a good idea to feed these brats to the big cats. As it happens it is frowned upon by society to feed the little darlings to the big cats. Did ye know that? Neither did I until this week. But I Tell ye what there was a few satisfied looking pussies at the zoo that day by the time I had finished. I even think some of the mothers looked quite pleased. And one even patted me on the back. Bit too hard and over enthusiastic if ye ask me. I nearly choked on me ice-cream. On reflection maybe she wasn't so pleased as I thought. Just can't tell with people can ye? I also had some fun sliding down the elephants trunk. Then I spotted the wrecking ball in the Elephants garden and that was when it all kicked off really because you know me and wrecking balls. Move over Miley. The clothes came off, my singing voice kicked it and the wrecking ball was going like a good un'. Although it has to be said that chain could have done with a clean- I now have rusty coloured chafing between my thighs. A crowd had gathered. Apparently that was not the kind of entertainment that they had lined up for that day but that was what I gave them. They had been waiting for a talk by all accounts about elephants and conversation. So every now and then between singing me song I would shout out random things like 'Look an elephant', or 'The elephant has a slippery trunk'. I even sang Nellie the Elephant packed her trunk in between verses of Wrecking Ball. Mines Mr Husband and his little child of six foot two, who was by now getting quite traumatised (because he dropped his phone in the crowd with all the excitement and he was afraid he may miss a text), tried to coax me back out of the elephant enclosure with buns. 'I will not be tempted' I cried throwing them to the elephant. 'I will need considerably bigger buns- with icing and cherries'. In the end I was tempted down with a rum and coke and a big bar of chocolate and picture of Johnny Depp Naked. Also I was made to put mines clothes back on. Pity really cos I was just getting warmed up! We were only allowed to stay because mines Mr Husband pleaded with the keepers to think of his little six foot two child who had been looking forward to a day out at the zoo with his daddy for 29 years. 'Don't break my little child's heart please' he pleaded. They let us stay on the condition that he kept a very close eye on me and give me medication again.! Cheek of it. Fifty feckin something I am. I thought I was doing the zoo a favour so I did. Bit of entertainment for the troops. Free entertainment at that. I managed to get all the way round without too much trouble. I was able to have a swing with the orang-utans without getting noticed- thank feck for orange cardigans at George that's what I say. I managed to sneak in a ride on a zebra by removing all mines clothes again. I sunbathed naked under a palm tree last week in Torquay and got stripy sunburn so I fitted in quite nicely with the Zebras. Then I had a ride on a ostrich. T'was nice and fluffy on my much chafed inner thighs. All the time Mines Mr Husband and his little child was too busy and Mines Mr Husband really failed the zoo keepers badly by taking his eye off the ball but I kept mine on his. I curled up and had a nap in the shadow of the giant tortoise - he had barely moved in an hour so I wasn't noticed. Well I almost got discovered by a small brat. 'Ooh look that tortoise is orange'- I heard the brat say. 'That's because that's the colour of mines feckin' cardigan you little eejit', I snarled at him. He cried. He was lucky the pussy in yonder enclosure was full.

I couldn't get a penguin because they didn't have any. What kind of a feckin zoo don't be having a penguin or two? But to my credit I did manage to procure mineself a pelican (nearly the same thing- it goes in water, eats fish and begins with a P), two meerkats, (although I did have to buy a considerable amount of insurance from them first)  and a crocodile - which I let loose first in the gift shop so that I wouldn't need to feed him for a few weeks. Also got meself a talking telescope so now I always have someone to talk to at home. Now I am definitely banned from that zoo but it be ok because mine own zoo is coming along very nicely and mines Mr Husband has been busy putting up nice secure fencing to stop would be crocodile thieves.  There be criminals on this estate- I read it in the papers.