Demonic Creature

The more astute of you out there will recall a post I slapped up a while back, involving the most satanic of critters.

Now, as luck would have it, one of the demonic beasts has been re-homed already. However, the other one is still sad and lonely. Now, my suggestions of having it blended into a health shake, or made into a large sausage skin have fallen on deaf ears, so apparently the creature must be rehomed, and alive.

Now again, I have NO idea what or how much they want for this thing, but they have sent over *shudder* pictures.




Blergh. Anyway, I believe this is what I referred to as "Snake #2" before, 10ft Albino Burmese Python, with a tank but no stand. At least, I assume as much.

If you're interested, want to know more, or generally want such a horrific critter, then you can contact Den. I have no idea about the gory details.

Now if you will excuse me, I have to dry the clamminess from my hands and have a glass of water before I'm sick.

I've Earned It

It has to be said that I have been a busy little bunny today. And with minimal amounts of procrastination.

All that down there in the post below I have plugged away at pretty much all day. I checked my WoW before I started it all, otherwise had I done it while mid-busy-bunny, I would have stayed put. After the doctors, I headed to Ruths where I was supposed to be heading into town, but various amounts of stress and stuff had cropped up, and in the end she told me to stop flapping and sent me home. The Bitch.

Then I pretty much burnt my way through the house, slogging over this, that and the other, and decided at about 2pm to have something to eat. I hadn't eaten all day. So I sat down with some rabbit food, a banana, a cup of tea, and watched the last episode of House season two. Ooooh. I was good though, I refrained from ripping the cellophane from my season three box, and carried on.

Not long after I restarted, I chucked the dog in the garden, headed off for a pee (hey, you want a classy blog, this ain't it!), collected some rubbish and headed down, opened the back door - to find a brown dog in the garden. Sally, as you know, is white. This was a brown dog... No, wait... My Garden + Heavy Rain + White Boxer = ....Well, you can imagine.

And I'd not long cleaned the floors...

So I strategically placed some laundry on the floor, and got her up into the bath, where I promptly showered, bathed, scrubbed, combed, rescrubbed, recombed and dried the dirty great lump. Sure enough the Brown Dog became a White Dog once more. Do I slapped on her anti-flea stuff, and text Cel to let her know that if she would rather Sally stayed at hers for the weekend, instead of Cel coming here to sort her out, she was sorted.

Cel called very soon after that, and from her tone of voice, I figured that I was being... Well, rather special. I thought I had mentioned it to her, but the more I spoke to her, the more I thought "Dan, you're a spaz" So the dog sitter is sorted now too! She's coming later this evening to collect the stupid-ass mongrel and take her back to hers, and come in during the day to check on the pussy cats.

A little after 5pm, Kellie and her kids turned up for a coffee. Well, the kids got juice, but otherwise, we sat for an hour chatting and chilling, me being very self-conscious of how hot I was. Hot, as in heat, not hot as in my normal physical presence.

They toddled off around six, and I once again set to the house, packing, sorting, arranging... And now here I am, 8pm, and finally, I am done. Granted, there are two items on the list I have yet to do, but the first, "shorts", are in the washing machine. If it gets hot, I am sorted, otherwise, I sleep in them when staying at other peoples houses. No one wants to see my special boxer shorts during the night/first thing in the morning ;) The second item, "shave", well, I'll do that this evening before bed when I have a shower.

My bag is packed, my laptop is packed (those of you that pray to electronic deities, say a pray that my hosts can fix it!), and I even have a sleeping bag packed. I am offically ready...

And aside from a brief babysitting stint in the morning while Ruth goes to see her doc about her STD, I will be doing the off mid-morning. Ish. YAY for a weekend holiday!

And no, Emma, I am not heading to Pompey ;)

Why'd It Have To Be Snakes...

Before I head to bed for the night, and seeing as it's after midnight, I really should post this.

I have a friend who has a couple of snakes they are looking to rehome. And when I say "snakes" I mean "bloody great lengths of satanic death serpents" being as that they are snakes... *shudder*

There are two snakes that need new homes BUT while my friends don't want to put a price on them, you will need to make an offer. Assuming you want them ;)

• Snake #1- 6ft Gold Ball Python, with a tank on a stand
• Snake #2- 10ft Albino Burmese Python, with a tank but no stand

If you are genuinely interested, and would like to make a serious offer, let me know and I will pass on their info to you. Obviously, you'll either need to live nearby or be willing to travel. If they don't get rehomed, then I think they are heading off to a zoo or something. They have names - I seem to think one is called Hufflepuff, but not sure. The family have kids ranging from 7 or 8, up to 16 or so.

If you have questions, ask me and I can either find out or pass you on :)

See the things I do for my friends... Blergh!

On Strange Pets

Now, you may be forgiven for seeing the title of this post and thinking "Oooh strange pets like odd fish or weird rodents" or suchlike, but that is not the case. No, after receiving various messages over the weekend while I was at my mothers, I figured I should explain something.

My years as a child, and even today, any pet belonging to my family has always been a little bit... Well, as the title suggests, they've always been a little bit strange. Mum is the "Crazy Cat Lady" in her area. People find cats and give them to her. She keeps them, feeds them, looks after them and runs them around to the vets and suchlike. They go from strays to loved pets.

Over the years, we've hand-reared kittens, taken in the waifs and strays of the area and generally had animals bursting out of the windows. She's down a lot compared to before, and only has twelve now.

Yes, only...

Of those 12, two are stone deaf, one has odd coloured eyes, one talks to you, one is 20 years old (runt of the little, hand reared, never thought he'd make it...), one is universally hated by all the others and lives in the kitchen... As opposed to being "just a cat" it's more a case of describing them by their peculiarity.

Her two dogs aren't normal either - one is anti social and eats rocks (requiring fairly regular surgery) while the other is getting on a bit, allergic to all sorts of things and had a stroke giving him a wonky face. Like a golden retriever needed to look any more stupid.

And then there is Snoopy. Snoopy is not a beagle. No, this is a duck called Snoopy. A duck that can't walk without falling over. A duck that is not waterproof, and a duck that, when it hits the water, it sinks. In the rain on Saturday it stood there, outside, getting drenched and looking sorry for itself.

Well, as "sorry for himself" as a duck can look, but it really did look miserable.

Mum had pets from as long ago as I can remember, from a blind dog that bumped into everything (did it need a seeing-human?), a cat that fell out a window and dribbled every day from then on, two cats that had to live in rabbit hutches for six months after accidents nearly killing them, a mental dog that used to chase me and Gemma out the house or up the stairs, and a parrot that did a perfect smoke alarm impression at 3am.

Mum broke her arm trying to get down stairs to see what was burning...

Next time you think your pet is a bit strange, just send it to my mother. It'll be right at home.

It's Gonna Be Busy...

OK, so last night was a shite night. Could not get comfortable, hurting all over, the Tam joined us in the bed as well, so I was cramped and hot.

Yes, this is going to be a pissy, moany post.

Anyway, this house has more pets than we did. Dog (Plus Sally as well), army of cats, ducks, fish, chinchillas, plus the garden to water and hose down. Plus Tam is into everything in this highly non-child-proof house. What is it about grandparents that get everything as appealing to toddlers, as fragile as possible, and put everything in such easy to reach places.

I could literally moan all day, but I won't. For a change of pace ;)

Luckily, I've not been playing WoW for a couple of weeks now, so not missing out on that, but still, all my stuff is in my house, but here, it's someone elses stuff, which just doesn't entertain.

Here's hoping you lot are having a good time!

Animal Craziness

So, what has been happening in Chez 0ddness of late? Well, after Jo's nan passed away, I once again fell into that stinky rut-place and shut myself away in my usual "deal with it like a rock" sort of way. Did it work? Not a clue, but I feel better in myself now. Even though I didnt go to the funeral, even though everyone else is dealing fairly well, I just fell into the dumps.

Ho Hum.

Other than that, the animal situation has gotten sort of... mental. Chuck Norris has been kidnapped indefinetly by Jo's dad. When we went away, they "looked after him", and upon returning, the little sod followed Jo's dad everywhere and for the first time in a long time, he (Dad) was happy! Jo offered the kitten up, and that was that. Chuck Norris is now named Indy, as in, Indianapolis, to go in with their American Cat naming theme.

The following week, Jo's great-aunt-that's-not-really-her-aunt was over. She and Nan were always together, and she's been at a loss since she died, and would you believe that little traitor, Miguel the Spaniard Dog, would sit with Margaret the entire time we were around. He became this strange little lapdog that sat with her the entire time, not even moving for dinner unless Margaret said "Go on then!". We then had her look after him for a couple of days while we sorted out some more stuff, the little Judas followed her everywhere.

So, we decided that every old person needs someone to love, and now Miguel lives with Margaret. We see her every weekend anyway and he now goes with her everywhere, so that's a something new as well!

In other animal-news, Sinny the cat from hell and Cosmo, one of the idiot boys, have both gone to live with other people after we decided 4 cats was too many. The house is a lot quieter and CLEANER now, with one dog, two cats and two rats. We've decided we're not replacing any kitties once they are gone, nor rodents, but will always have a dog of some kind :)

Aside from random animal happenings, things have been relatively quiet. As quiet as a house with a tearaway-two-year-old and a maurading-eight-year-old can me. I won't go into the floods, the germs, the moods, the summer holiday boredom, the razor incident or anything else, just assume that everything in the house is at it's usual calm, quiet simmering chaos.

As usual.

Jo's Little Pussy

So, in the last year we've lost two cats. Jo decided she wanted another and here it is, nestled in her cleavage. Welcome to the family... Chuck Norris.

I kid yea not.

What A Crap Day

Being that my day technically started at 1am this morning, I knew I was off to a bad start. With little sleep, still feeling under the weather, and knowing Jo was poorly, I just didn't want to get up. But I had to.

So at 7.15am the kids were down with me, the dogs were running around, and neither child would do a THING they were told. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd have said today was Opposites Day. Bundled around to Ruths just in time to head to school, when the weather decided to brighten up - me in a coat then melted.

Got home and set to clearing up house. Washing up that materialised over the night, piles of laundry from who-knows-where, junk on the floor, the trail of destruction left by two children and two dogs, folding clothes, ironing - then all of a sudden, it's time to go get Jaysen. Huh?!

The day has been punctuated by dogs playing then snoring, Tam laughing then screaming, and of course, the Puking Wonder upstairs had a few fun fits of emptying her guts in the opposite direction. After a good fifteen minutes of marvellous sound effects, she sent me a text saying "I don't feel well."

Gasp. What's next, the sun letting me know it's hot?

So anyway, I head out to the school again, get the boy and his bookbag and his P.E bag and his Swim bag, and the bundle of letters and notes and crap and head on home. "I'm thirsty." "Can I have some sweets?" "What's for dinner?" "Where's Mummy?" "Are the dogs here?" "Can I have some sweets?" and on and on. The journey from School to Front Door is about 10 minutes, less on a good day. Felt like a life time. So, cunning-plan-Dan decides to do an early dinner, maybe put the clocks forward an hour, get the kids into bed early.

So I finish with the laundry, finish the ironing, add his school stuff to the laundry, put away the drying up - it's just after 5pm. What the hell?!

Long story short (too late), I managed to get him fed, bathed and in bed by 7.30pm. Tam is snoring behind me. Miguel is on my lap, Sally at my feet. Jo is still in bed. I've not actually eaten this evening, and it's far too late to do so now.

Why does everything hit the bloody fan at the same time?! Fingers cross Jo is better in the morning.

Edit: Because Nancy needs cheering up, here is a pic of Miguel, snoring on my lap as I blog. Apologies for the Thunder Thighs ;)

The Midget

Miguel is like the friendliest dog ever. Last night Jo's parents, brother and nan arrived to see him and he was lovely with all of them. Despite lots of ugly comments, they're all transparent as glass and loved him to bits. We got the kids off to bed and settled to a night of Warcraft.

Of course, Miguel and Sally had been going mental all day long, and both were knackered. They started out in Sallys bed together, but then the little man headed in and jumped up on Jo's lap. And there he stayed for almost three hours. I think the only time he moved was when Jo got up for a drink.

Bed time, the dogs had another mad ten minutes, had their dinner, then we all headed upstairs. Being that he's not used to stairs, nor much bigger than an actual stair, Miguel had to be carried up, much to Sallys amusement. Into bed we go, Sally and Miguel on the floor when Jo decided to have them on the bed for cuddles. Sally hefts up and has cuddles before getting bored and jumping down to sleep. Miguel had other ideas. And we spent the night with him curled between us. He snores like Jo.

And yes, he can jump onto a super-continental bed, but not up a stair. Go figure.

Of course, last night was a nightmare. I have no idea why, but at 1am, Jo decided to start throwing up. All night she was up and down, and it's not just her getting out of bed waking me up, but the sound of retching and vomiting in the loo. She had virtually no sleep, and I think I managed a couple of hours. Joyous.

No idea what bought it on - we did dinner for Ruth and the girls last night as well as us lot, and everyone else is fine, so it's not her cooking. I told her not to eat out the rubbish bin....

Anyways, this morning was fun - Tired Dan + Ignorant Kids + Scatty Dogs does not make Dan a happy chap. I still feel kinda rough, but with the Vomit Queen going for it, I am sure I can soldier on..... ;)

Welcome to the Family

A couple of weeks back - in passing - I made mention that we were toying with an idea. This idea probably wasn't the smartest of ideas - but then, that's nothing new - but none the less, it was something we wanted to do.

We wanted a smaller dog, mainly for Tam to play with, but also so Sally had a little friend to keep her company while Jaysen was at school. My friend Emma (not that Emma, the other Emma!) mailed me and told me her mum was trying to rehome a very ickle dog, and would we be interested.

Silly question really.

So, as of today, we became a two-dog family, despite certain people nay-saying about it. He is a Griffon Bruxellois, which looks like a Pug-meets-a-Terrier. Actually, he looks like an Ewok, but that's neither here nor there.

Ladies and Gents, I give you Miguel...

He's so friendly, very cheery happy little dog, loves Tam and Jaysen, and has been playing with Sally all afternoon. Massive thanks to Emma for slogging by train to us to hand him over!

This One's For The Ladies

OK, I've lived with various members of the opposite sex pretty much all my life. I know what happens to you every four weeks, I know enough to ply you with chocolate, ice cream, alcohol, pain killers and "womens items" which I have no issue buying. Even if the poxy makers decide to change their packaging to a new fangled "Colour Code" system which sucks for us colourblind sorts.

But I digress.

Knowing what happens to you each month, I know you're sore, hurting, tender and suchlike, even if the ads make out you use their stuff you can go rollerskating instead of huddle on the sofa with a hot water bottle. I know it hurts, but I have come across some fairly compelling evidence that suggests you girlies might be milking us blokies for all our worth, and maybe - just maybe - your poor tummy and lower items are not quite as painful as you might suggest.

I give you my proof.


THAT, ladies, is a very very large dog. Heavy, mores the point. On Jo's lap. No, Sally is not the smartest organism on the block. Anyway, that is a very large, heavy dog, sitting on Jo's lap and belly at THAT time of the month. Jo, you will notice, is smiling.

Gentlemen, the ladies have been playing us!



I vote we start the riots now, starting with the chocolate factories.