Saturday, May 12, 2012


Shitful day at work, dealt with a variety of bullshit that is NOT my problem, but got stuck with it anyway.

Equally shitful drive home through totally unnecessary roadworks and a cluster of morons who are either cruising at 85 on the freeway weaving back and forth between two lanes, or think the place is their private cannonball run.

Two exits from home someone's precious little snowflake and leader of tomorrow thinks it's fucking hilarious to be egging cars from the pedestrian bridge over the freeway.  I suppose I should be grateful it wasn't a brick.  15 minute diversion to the carwash to get the crap off because I can't leave it until morning - the paint is ageing disgracefully but I'd prefer it as is thanks.  Briefly toyed with the idea of calling the cops but couldn't be bothered, because the cops wouldn't catch them and precisely nothing would happen if they did.  Satisfied myself with calling the radio station and telling them that anyone listening had my full and complete permission to beat seven colour of shit out of them if they happened to be in the area.  I can dream.

Get home and the handbrake is freaking because the cat isn't home, but can be heard making distressed cries from a few yards over.  It's 00:15hrs, brilliant time to be prowling around in people's yard with a torch, good way to get yourself shot, and there's going to be no way to carry the bastard home if I can find him, because when a nervy 6kg cat decides he's leaving it's like holding onto a running chainsaw by the business end.

After sneaking around in 3 yards I give up because anything further means ringing doorbells and it's now 00:35hrs, which is a bit much really.  Go back to the yard for a recce because he at least replies when he hears my voice, and I still reckon he's in one of the two yards I have already been through fairly thoroughly.

Finally discovered the furry little sod on the second storey roof of the house diagonally behind us, not distressed in the slightest, just talking back and enjoying his death-from-above view of things.  Couldn't pinpoint him from sound because of the fences and brickwork, but cat eyes will reflect damn near anything.  Once he learned I could see him, he happily got down and zipped along the fence back into his own yard, stuffed his face, and is currently asleep on the bed.

Fucking cat.

Where's the shiraz, I'm getting blasted.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please be aware that all comments are moderated so if you're a scumbag spammer then I suggest not wasting your time. Your spam will not be seen by anyone.

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.