Tag Archives: parrot

Diet Update

It has to be said that I’m the sort of bloke who considers a working lunch should consist of a piece of meat wrapped up in bread. PIL has known this for years. So what has been in my lunch box this week? Bananas! A bunch of bananas! So now she thinks I’m a chimp! I remain extremely grateful to PIL for getting my lunch prepared each evening for the next day. I really do appreciate it but Bananas?  I’m trying to see if there’s a trait here or if she’s trying to tell me something.

 

 

fatarse1

 

There are certain things I know she thinks about me:

 

Plank

She thinks I’m a bit of a plank.

 

middle-age-man-tools-18781280

She thinks I’m pretty useless at D.I.Y.. She’s not wrong

 

 

stockings2

She thinks I’m just a little bit pervy because I like to see her in her underwear but she actually quite likes that. (Yes chaps. This is what she wears. Who’s a lucky boy?)

 

guinea pig

She thinks I’m a guinea pig because she gets me guinea pig food for breakfast and tells me it’s really something called Mews Lee. (Don’t forget she thinks I’m a plank).

 

parrot

And sometimes the Mews Lee she gets is actually parrot food. For variety of course. (Plank again)

 

Bunny-Whats-Up-Doc-Picture-For-Whatsapp

Then there’s the stuff PIL calls “salad” and I call rabbit food. (Plank)

 

 

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And now she thinks I’m a chimp by only letting me have bananas for lunch. (Plank)

 

Just give me chocolate!

 

chocolates-3d-printing

 

Dear Father Christmas,

 

father christmas

 

I have been a very good boy all year. 

I have been quite good

Ok, I’ve been a bit of a bastard but it’s all this rabbit and guinea pig food I’m being fed. Now, it’s the chimp food.

Please, please, please can I have a chocolate fountain for Christmas?

 

chocolate-fountain

 

I promise not to dunk my head in it. Ok, maybe I will once or twice but no more.

Thank you very, very much you old bugger   old goat splendid chap.

Dick Dastardly.

Now it’s time for me to go get my lunch ready for tomorrow while PIL is wrapped up in watching soaps! Ha! I hope there’s some pig or cow that I can wrap up in bread smothered with butter.

Bollocks! No bread!

Curses! Foiled again!

Have a great evening.

More Dick soon.

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Research

In an earlier post I mentioned that I was considering a career change, a decision driven by the success of my beard.

Should I become a Viking Berserker?vikings-16554

A pirate?blackbeard__1221832913_1868

A biker?biker_10

Or become my own wildlife sanctuary?6a00e552722125883300e55395a6718834-800wi

A decision of this magnitude requires research. So I started to delve into the sort of stuff I’d need to do to start one or other of the new careers.

Being a Viking is out of the question. I’m Anglo-Saxon  for a start which doesn’t help. Also, Vikings are really into long sea voyages on tiddly little boats that while they’re called “Long Ships” are nothing more than elongated rowing boats. Too bloody dangerous! Nor do I fancy having to be a ginger. Raping and pillaging is not really my cup of tea either although recent studies seem to indicate that the Viking wives came along to make sure their husbands behaved. Some things never change!

The same applies to being a pirate although they bob about on the sea in slightly bigger boats. That’s not the main drawback though. I don’t fancy having a bloody parrot crapping all over my shoulder, an eye patch wouldn’t suit me and I’m certainly not going to have a wooden peg leg.

Being a biker involves the ability to ride a motor cycle. Something I have no inclination to do. Fine during the summer I suppose but too wet and windy at any other time of year and I’m very fond of my creature comforts.

Which brings me nicely to becoming my own wildlife sanctuary specialising in beaver. Now this is a career that has promise but during the course of my research I discovered something that explained one or two things to me as well as causing me some concern.

Until 2009, when a small number were re-introduced on a trial basis, beaver had been extinct in Scotland for over 300 years! Fuck me, 300 years without beaver! What a disaster that must be but at least now I understand why so many Scottish men wear a skirt with a furry thing hanging down the front.  (National costume my arse!)

Hardly surprising given that there has been no beaver in Scotland for 300 years!

Hardly surprising given that there has been no beaver in Scotland for 300 years!

It also explains why so many Scots spend so much time “tossing the caber” which I think is just a euphemism for having a wank using a telegraph pole.

A display of a 300 year old Scottish "Please enter" gesture

A display of a 300 year old traditional Scottish “Please enter” gesture

I believe it’s the reason why from 1759 to 1959, 1,000,000 Scots emigrated to Canada where there are now 4,714,970 Scottish Canadians making up 15.1% of the population.

“Hoots mon the sassenachs ha’ nicked all oor beaver. Gi’ yersel’ off ta Canada. Plenty o’ beaver there bonnie lad. Och aye the noo. Plenty o’ haggis as well mon. Gi’ ya ye hid an’ ye han’s ta play wi’. Ye canna eat deep-fried Mars bars but tha’s nay a problem if ye’re chasin’ the wee beaver all over the forests.”

Now that may cause me a bit of a problem if I want to specialise in a beaver sanctuary as I don’t want to be inundated with randy Scots so it looks like I’ll have to think about something else. In the meantime, I’ll keep quiet about Clit.

PIL has just read through this post and she has made a very sound suggestion that I think makes sense. She says I shouldn’t go to Scotland any time soon! Good idea.

Have a great day.

More Dick soon.auto

 

My thanks to the intertube all around the world web thingy where I found all the photos using Sergei & Larry’s’ search wotsname. If I have infringed any copyright issues please let me know.