Appropo of Nothing...

I've come to the conclusion (after a long lecture from the Mother Ship) that it's not in my best interests to slag her off on this blog anymore. Not that I ever was - I was merely recording life and her attempts at stumbling through it, from my inconsequential (her word) point of view.

"Milton, you have an opportunity to speak for kittens everywhere via a state-of-the-art medium and all you can do is go on about my weight, intelligence and general demeanour," she huffed. "And as Auntie Debs pointed out, it's hardly earth-shattering verse! We're all boooooored reading it. In fact I'm thinking of putting a lock on my computer so you won't be able to access it anymore."

Do I care? I'll just nip along to Govanhill Library and execute my wit there...

Then she got threatening.

"Actually Milton, there's been a couple of articles in the news recently that have been very interesting...extremely interesting, in fact. They concerned new pets one could adopt. Very cute pets - ones which don't have paws that can type. For instance micro pigs and pigmy hedgehogs."

Actually I wouldn't mind one of those pigmy hedgehogs myself, I can just see myself playing pit-pat with it, from one paw to another like that computer tennis game you used to get in the 80s (obviously I wasn't born then but I've googled it).

So anyways, I digress. The Mother Ship thinks it would be a good idea for me to 'raise the standard' of my blog and comment on political matters. So...did you see Samantha Cameron's Kath Kidston-type dress she wore to the Tory Party Conference last week? The Daily Mail, of course, did a big piece on it and I have to say, I was a fan myself. I loved the ruffled collar. It showed off her lovely, long neck to perfection.

What else can I say that will appeal to the intelligensia? Oh yes, the Booker Prize Winner - Hilary Mantel and Wolf Hall. Well, afraid I'm going to go against the grain here and say...a big kitten yaaaaaawn and stretch in front of the fire. Darlings, I'd rather watch Tracey Emin do the research for her installation piece Everyone I've Ever Slept With...

Other matters, Muttie has signed up for an OU course in Creative Writing (this'll be a laugh). She was supposed to read the box of literature that arrived in the post yesterday. And what did she do last night? Suddenly the four days worth of dishes that had been piling up at the side of the sink got done. And now there's nothing left in the laundry basket...I'm sure one day she'll also get round to cleaning out my litter tray (wonder's will never cease). The fridge, however, is another matter. God knows what it'll take to get that cleaned. A deadline for an essay perhaps?

Yours, in an interested, voyeuristic fashion, The Milt xxx