Hello! Bonjour! Willkommen!

August 18, 2010


There is a stirring in the meercat nest today. Not all the cats woke up happy.

I didn’t sleep so well last night. The bed broke. And the person I was sleeping with leapt out of bed in the middle of the night and cried “THE SHIRTS” with real panic, touched all the washing hanging on the clothes horse, and climbed gently back into bed. He had no recollection of it in the morning.

So lets rewind a few weeks to my blog when all I had to write about was my terrible online dating progress. How things change. Now I have stories about walking around ASDA in High Wycombe telling New Boyf that I am going to make a PiƱata in the shape of his head for his next birthday and how all his friends will love me because they will be able to bash his head with a stick and it will be full of so many sweets cause I could fit so many in there. I really laughed. He didn’t really. Now before my dear friends say “WITCHY!!” may I just point out the irony of that situation is HE ACTUALLY SAID HE WAS GOING TO MAKE A PINATA OF MY HEAD FIRST.

In a wind up of the online dating experience, I have either found someone great OR this is going to end up being the biggest wind up shit storm of all. If there can be anything worse than taking 20 magic mushrooms with a fully clothed guy but with his dick out that Philippa works with at an office party of hers while soldering new Lady Gaga outfits with LED lights getting fingered by a trademark lawyer who works at Shell. Or not. I dont think this will end up bad. I worry that it is all too much of a good thing and the universe will explode everything in my face like a giant abscess filled with the equivalent of 4 litres of melted butteresque pusy matter. But then who knows maybe not. I am never very good with change. But I try my best.

I just know I have a little cat at home who is waiting for me and I am going to bring her a little meercat doll I saw at the shop that she will love I am sure and then I am going to set up a livestream that I can log into any time and check out what the little cat is up to.

Who wants a cup of tea?

April 7, 2009


From: John Davidson [mailto:XXCENSOREDXX@hotmail.com]
Sent: 31 March 2009 00:31
To: Emma Davidson
Subject: RE: Me at sarah lee’s house

still haven’t seen your sarahlee’s house photos. your mother has got a new comp, maybe she hasn’t transfered them. F.K.

yOUR SISTER EMAIED ME THE OTHER DAY that tho the dy was sunny in D’port, you could feel that winter fingers were touching one’s bones with icy undercurrents. Today I know what she meant. Was bloody cold out in the garden patch thisa.m.. Except today is accreditation day for the home, they check the answer to the question, ‘is the government money being spent wisely?. If it weren’t for prying bodies snooping around I’d be in bed. MAYBE THIS ARVO? on IT. nEEDless to add, companionless!
What’s with you and your ever-changing admirers? French. German? Celonese? LOOK AT THESE? Life is so boring I think the altenative can’t be any the worse. I guess I’ ll see soon enough/ Cheers. yer pa.xxx

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From: John Davidson
Subject: RE: Me at sarah lee’s house
Sent: 02 Apr ‘09 00:59

got the pics ofyou at the tucker at Sara Lees house. Gawd help us I’d eat tht beatifull looking food offa baby’s nappie. I haven’t had a real belly-full of ‘ real ‘for farkin yonks. O nly SAlly Ann shit which is crossed turds on a plate with freckles on them, the farkin smell is crook, I tell yer.
Get talkin’ to the wall paper and msake yer poor ol’ Dad a happier man!Luv yah. Pops.XXXX

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> ——-Original Message——-
> From: John Davidson
> Subject: RE: Me at sarah lee’s house
> Sent: 19 Mar ‘09 00:45
> Ain’t caught up with ma this week. Saturday prolly. When she brings the
> paper(W.E,Australian when we attempt the crossy. We must be getting older,
> for we cannot do as much of as once we did. Sorry y’r tired. It’s a bit of
> a bastard when y’r young you have to spend such a lot of energy just to
> keep up! Ave another effi beer. Guiness for St Pat’s day. What beats me St
> Pat was a Welshman who went to Ireland (Omagh) to spread the word. Yet an
> irishman would bang you in the lughole if you reminded them of that FACT
> Your great grandparents were Irish, from Dublin. Which might account for
> yer screwball father’s antics? See yer. my dear girl. How about that git
> who gave his Daughter, 7 children. Fark. He was Austrian. So was Hitler,
> and he definitely WAS a nutter. Heil Hitler Luv from yer pops.

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> ——-Original Message——-
> From: John Davidson
> Subject: RE: Last night’s supper part one
> Sent: 15 Mar ‘09 23:54
> per the re: three parts. thereis nowt on the input on this comp. Sorry
> to say

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