Tag Archive: cat


Ah, Breakfast

Nap-fuMasterThere’s nothing like breakfast after a heavy Nap-fu session.

I don’t always have breakfast, just coffee, but this morning following the coldest night of the year, it was a belly warming experience. Marmalade on hot buttered toast, that quintessential English breakfast.

I was originally going to title this post Nap-Fu King… but when I saw it in print I changed my mind, least it be misconstrued.

Remember I wrote about the neighbours’ cat, the Siamese one… the pretty pregnant one?

Well.

KittyInstallation

She’s nearly installed herself.

Last night, she came in the front door, looked at me, walked straight past the sofa into the kitchen and fed herself.

I can’t deny her food, her owners obviously don’t give her enough or she wouldn’t be coming here to eat. In her delicate condition she needs food.

I am wondering when she will auto-install the add-ons kittens…

dirty-dishes

It’s criminal

My kitchen seems to be in a state of perpetual motion; dishes in the sink, dishes out of the sink, dishes back in the sink. No sooner do I do the dishes, then there’s more dishes to be done. I am convinced this is an evil plot against humanity, me in particular. The fluxing dishes!

I have been following the tragedy of the Malaysian Airlines plane shot down over Ukraine. The USA is squealing like a stuck pig, which is a bit hypocritical since they have done the same thing twice; pot calling the kettle black. It has also led me to think that they dost squeal too much. Is there something more sinister going on, is this another false flag? Just how bloody devious is the USA? I trust them not.

So far today, I have coffeed, repeat…

I have also nearly completed my blog run. Just a couple to go.

Yesterday, I spent some time just sitting in the praça pondering life, with a cup of coffee. Clorinha, of course, wasn’t to be left out. Here she is pondering the merits of a little bird for lunch.

Clorinha pondering lunch

Clorinha pondering lunch

This was after she had pissed all the kids off by chasing their kite strings and tails.

The irrestiable attraction of a loose kite string

The irresistable attraction of a loose kite string

She thought it was fun, the kids did not.

I tried to get a video of her racing about madly, but she was faster than the camera could focus.

While searching for photos for yesterday’s post, I found this.

Awesome butterflies

Awesome butterflies

They were at a roadside stop as we travelled from Santa Cruz de la Sierra north to Concepción. I’d love to know what species.

I had planned weinerschnitzel for lunch, but with 25 minutes left to go, I have just discovered that I forgot to take the meat out of the freezer. Oh well, tomorrow. Looks like corned beef, mustard sauce and spuds.

I’ll leave you with this…

A burglar broke into a house one night. He shone his flashlight around, looking for valuables when a voice in the dark said, ‘Jesus knows you’re here.’

He nearly jumped out of his skin, clicked his flashlight off, and froze. When he heard nothing more, he shook his head and continued.

Just as he pulled the stereo out so he could disconnect the wires, clear as a bell he heard ‘Jesus is watching you.’

parrotStartled, he shined his light around frantically, looking for the source of the voice. Finally, in the corner of the room, his flashlight beam came to rest on a parrot.

‘Did you say that?’ he hissed at the parrot.

‘Yes’, the parrot confessed, then squawked, ‘I’m just trying to warn you that he’s watching you.’

The burglar relaxed. ‘Warn me, huh? Who in the world are you?’

‘Moses,’ replied the bird.

‘Moses?’ the burglar laughed. ‘What kind of people would name a bird Moses?’

‘The kind of people who would name a Rottweiler Jesus.’

rottweilerbark

Later.

 

I don’t have a small dongle

Google-Chromecast-lead-624

Google’s small dongle

Apparently Google does.

It’s a Chromcast thingy that you plug into your TV and gives you all sorts of wonderful thingies.

I bet it also gives Google all sorts of information about your viewing habits too, so they can direct appropriate advertisers in your direction.

I wouldn’t trust them an inch.

Remember, you are not the customer; you and your information are just their bait. The advertisers are the customers, you are just grist for their mill.

Since yesterday’s post I can’t get that song “Just another day in paradise” out of my head, it keeps playing through my subconscious at the oddest of moments.

Today is also, “Just another hot day in paradise”. They promised it would be cooler than yesterday, but I think not. They also promised rain in the late afternoon, let’s see.

bugle_bogus_wIt’s too hot to be blogging, although I have done my lot today, this is the past post of the day… Sounds of a battered old bugle far off in the imaginary distance.

I should be brief, so that I can anticipate beer o’clock.

So far today, apart from blogging, I have…

Coffeed

Watered (both me and the plants)

Napped

Thought about lunch, which has yet to materialise. But it will be quick and easy and involved salsicha (hotdogs again).

Salsicha

Yesterday, I had them fried in batter. Yes, I know that’s not good for the waistline, but it’s soul food, comfort food. You see deep fried battered hotdogs were sold at every fair when I was a kid, the taste is so nostalgic.

The beer truck has arrived, so has the need for haste.

Yesterday, I cooked four, but only managed three. The last was a bit of a burnt offering, so it finished up in the kitchen rubbish.

This morning the ragdoll cat from next door was in, tipped over the rubbish tin and ate the whole thing in the middle of the kitchen floor while I was blogging. I know he ate it there because of the grease spot. He treats my place is like some kind of restaurant.

Mine had no squirrel attached

Mine had no squirrel attached

The orange truck passed by this morning. No oranges. But he did have pineapples, 4 for R$5 (that’s about $2.20).

“No squirrel attached” was actually going to be the title of this post, but I felt that a small dongle had more appeal.

Important news, Flappy Bird is coming back!

Isn’t that exciting? <—- rhetorical question It was headline news today both in BBC and The Guardian.

Flappy-Bird-4I had no idea what a Flappy Bird was, I had to google it.

I am beside myself with excitement, I nearly wet my plants… again.

I am sure the world can live without Flappy Bird. Oh the inanity is mind-boggling. It is a game, for those of you lucky enough never to have heard of it, for an iPad where you have to keep tapping your screen to keep the bloody thing flapping.

More news on the Snowden front. You may/may not recall that he said all the big names, Yahoo, Apple, Google, Microsoft, Facebook and AOL knew about Prism, the US internet spying all the time; which they were all very quick to deny and sent them all spiraling into damage control mode. Turns out that a lawyer for NSA has told some investigating committee yesterday that they all knew, every sordid detail. Not only that but they cooperated fully with them.

Pack of lying bastards! They are all tarred with the same brush.

Nothing is safe nor sacrosanct in this world anymore.

The tinkling of beer bottles in their crates is getting to me…

Later.

 

Been a bit slack

A keyboard alone does not a post write

Yes, I have. Thursday I had an excuse for not posting because it was pay day, but yesterday was more a case of procrastination. I had all good intentions, but good intentions do not a post write. At least not without some help from the keyboard and fingers to push the buttons.

I love that Steampunk keyboard.

Actually, I wasted a lot of time yesterday. I found a great site to explore, and explore I did; all bloody afternoon. Seems like a waste of time, but not. Sometimes you find a site/blog that just begs you to be there, stay, devour everything. Actually, it was a site a bit like my blog Bullshit Corner. I hope you’ve already been there, but if you haven’t you are derelict in your duty.

A cat conversation…

Yesterday afternoon, when I wasn’t exploring this great site, I was napping; and upon waking decided I should get desmellified. Lixo watched me undress and as I headed for the bedroom door, he stopped in mid-stride in the doorway. Hence, unwittingly he got a swift kick in his fluffy nuts, I couldn’t help it, I was in mid-stride, I was committed to completing the movement or end up in a pile on the floor.

Without taking umbrage, he headed for the front door and looked askance as I headed in the other direction.

“Stupid cat,” I found myself saying, “I can’t go outside, I haven’t got any fur on!”

Then, I thought to myself, what did I just say? If my readers knew that I talked to my cat about not having my fur on, they would be in no doubt as to my sanity.

Now, one thing in my life, I have never professed to be sane, not even normal. I tried being normal once; it was so boring that I became myself again.

Yesterday (7th) was Brazilian Independence Day. Which meant it was beer o’clock all day. I didn’t, I never do, although I did have a bottle during the second half of the Brazil vs South Africa game which ended up satisfactorily after a non-event first half, 1-0.

The best thing about Independence Day was Dilma Rousseff’s televised speech the night before that the domestic tariff for electricity would be reduced 16.2% from January. That means I will have a whopping R$9 cut from my average power bill. The blonde bimbo that calls herself president really hasn’t got two brain cells to rub together, but to giver her her dues,  she has managed to crack down on some of the government corruption that is holding the country steady in it’s Third World status. But she made the mistake in her speech by reiterating that Brazil was immune from the coming world financial collapse (proof of her blond bimbo status). I think she watches Fox News.

Carmen Lucia abandoning her stepdaughter at the rubbish dump

By the end of the day, I was so tired that I went to bed early, 8:45. I didn’t even watch Avenida Brasíl, a novela (soap opera) about the evil Carmen Lucia (left played by Adriana Esteves) who dumped her stepdaughter in the Gramacho rubbish tip after the death of her husband. Rita, the stepdaughter (r) grew up and now in her early twenties is reeking havoc in the household, that the cuckoo Carmen Lucia insinuated herself like a leech, in her blind obsession for revenge. A very convoluted story, although in someways predictable.

Last night was also, the last episode of the 6pm novela, Amor, Eterno, Amor (Love, Eternal, Love) which is the other novela I follow. The one that starts on Monday also looks like a good one; a period piece from the days when slavery ended in Brazil.

So, I spent Independence Day here at the keyboard and talking to my cat.

Today, I am doing much the same. Now I must get something out of the freezer for lunch, that will avoid the necessity of putting on my pants and going to the supermarket.

Later.

I Need Therapy

8pm

I need therapy.

I went to the supermarket today, something that I usually do after pay day. I know it’s a strange habit, but I find the empty fridge at the end of the month boring.

So, first I am greeted by a wine & cheese display.

Roughly what a wine and cheese display should look like – This one didn’t

Now I like wine and I like cheese; but I didn’t like what I saw. A bottle of wine, a nice wine, a Portuguese Vinho Verde, It’s a crackling wine. The price was R$16.90… The normal price was R13.90! Here it was on display as though it were a ‘special’. Any thoughts of perusing for more wine abated, rapidly. Cheese… there were two types of cheese, it was no more a display of cheeses than you’d find in a second hand car sales.

Off around the supermarket.

I got to the meat counter. Well, I would have got to it if it hadn’t been for the queue. I had forgotten that today was Thursday. Thursdays are meat specials days. The queue was 30 deep, there were two attendants. I swerved my shopping cart off to another aisle. There was no way in hell I was going anywhere near the meat counter, truthfully, there was no way I could get near the meat counter.

Well, that was Thursday; which somehow melded into Saturday.

I’m not yet sure how that happened. I’ll have to think about that some more.

Meanwhile, it’s Saturday, the one thing I have learned so far today is that one does not try to step over the cat on a slate floor when one is wearing wet chinelos (Flipflops). Doing the splits at 60 is neither healthy, dignified nor what the Almighty intended. Although his name was called in vain during my obliquely downward trajectory.

It’s 9am, so there’s plenty of time to learn more.

It’s raining. It rained yesterday. The forecast is for more rain tomorrow.

The programme today is blogging.

… along with plenty of coffee.

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