It explains a lot...

Watching "Heroes" last night with the Reservoir Mogs, they suddenly appeared to wake up and take notice.

I realised that the magic word was "invisible".

It is now obvious that all the damage in my house has been caused by an invisible cat, and they take all the blame.

Given their ability to suddenly appear in the strangest of places, at equally strange times, I figure they had this invisibility thing sussed years ago.

Gromit has not yet started to blame the invisible dog for anything. I can't decide if he has too much integrity, or is just too thick to find a scapegoat.

Kinky Ninja Spy Giraffes

The Monday Night Group are relaunching their website. Rousie set them the task of coming up with some good quotes, to draw people in.

I remember the last time this happened.

Twenty-odd drunks at varying stages of talent and inebriation, loads of daft ideas, and some of them printable.

Last night? This time, only five were present. Tumbleweed silence, as they realised that only printable and ad-agency ready soundbites would do.

To break the silence, Mike recounted a story from another MiNGe member, who attends a group who keep folk tales and urban myths alive. They also use it as an excuse to tell lame jokes. The punchline was delivered, and someone seemed surprised that he hadn't altered it. The phrase "kinky ninja spy giraffe" was definitely uttered.

Ros came up with a corker! "Last time she had a dinner party with the warlords, something was said and there were tanks on the lawn, next morning."

But she is off to the Ivory Coast next week, so it was an observation about something else entirely. But she did say it as part of the MNG, on MNG-pub time, so surely it's acceptable?

And besides, it is only a matter of time before someone here has a tank on the lawn. Amazing what an anorak can find on eBay.

They struggled on, it's hell having to turn into instant copy writers (they assured me; I carried on drinking and trying to look supportive) but they only scored 3/10 from Rousie.

I added "I only came back to find out what happened to the kinky ninja spy giraffe."

And left.

Enough to make you climb the walls...

After Scott's valiant attempt at scaling the chimney breast in the Lass O'Gowrie, we were due another attempt. Maybe this time along the side of the shelves, via the tricky bric-a-brac.

And try saying that after a dab of Rioja.

However Scott managed to drop a box of books on his foot, Lisa's bank balance is recovering from a nice trip away, and Damon was otherwise engaged. I think he was planning to get hair extensions, just in case the 'longest hair contest' started again. The others just replied with a sensible "Not this week, thanks."

I've realised that this was probably all for the good, as our best pubs are all in the area covered by the campus for MMU and University of Manchester. And the Halls of Residence...all the little freshers will be out, the corridor pub-crawl in full swarm. Even if we scare them out of our best venues, they will be blocking the pavements and the cashpoints. And can't wait for the student vs local chav puking contests :(

Yes, I'm ageist. Don't care.

I'm heading out of town, hopefully to have a nice meal in a student-free suburb. It's a combined birthday do for friend Steve, and someone I've never met (or don't remember). I accepted without finding out who else was going, so it could be the best laugh or a complete nightmare. Hopefully the former.

I'm sure someone will end up climbing the walls by the end of the night. Tequila shots all round, chaps?

One for the geeks, and the cats!

Place your orders now, for Xmas!

Percy

Freshers Week

I am not alone in my views on Freshers Week.

Lisa works just across the road, and submitted this earlier.

She writes better than me! I just grumble. But here's an example of the irritating little ******** on the hoof.

Waiting at traffic lights, lights on green, traffic coming:

"Hey dudes, let's cross the road."

Saddoes, does anyone say dude anymore, I mean if they are under 30? You all look at least 12 years old, broaden your vocabulary! And please feel free to walk into oncoming traffic, unless we are still waiting for you to pay your fees.

They troll across in a little gang, yelling and screaming. Copping the scornful looks from the older students:

"Are you looking at us because we're lesbians?"

Lesbians?? In Manchester?? How novel! Bloody 'ell, what next? Elektrickery, and dogs that aren't whippets??

They go off on a long discussion about the collective noun for lesbians, a word that has to be delivered at highest volume. I feel deeply sorry for the staff of Vanilla. It's a fair bet they've been mentioned in the Freshers Guide.

At some point they dodge round me, and suddenly I feel amused, and sorry. The haircuts are right, as are the facial piercings, but they all look too new. They've legged it into Rambo's the minute they've realised they won't see Ma and Pa til Xmas. The outfits are, again, acceptable but too new. Right up to last week, they were the podgy boring swotty kids, who've made the grades, accepted the offer and run away to re-invent themselves. They truly think that the bravado, being pierced and gay is the best way to upset their parents, it's worth the fresh bright-pink wounds they sport. And how can money spent in Affleck's ever be a waste?

They just want someone to be shocked by them. They are in completely the wrong city.

Work E-mails

We have a standard e-mail account at work, this morning it was my turn to check first thing.

So far I have been offered;

Software
Pharmaceuticals (American)
Pharmaceuticals (Canadian)
An amazing business loan deal without a credit check
An equally amazing offer to be the business bank account for an Indian textile firm

And finally, the opportunity to pose as the relative of a German who died in the Concorde crash near Paris, to get US$14m out of Ghana!

Where will I get time to do my job, with all these fantastic offers on the table? :)

Negotiation, a la Greebo

Don't get me wrong, I love Greebo dearly but he is a weird cat. He doesn't approach problems in the same way the others do.

Like this morning. Normally, he's a very outdoors sort. He's not given to joining in the territorial battle for any cosy areas in my house. But early this morning Manchester decided to go a bit chilly so he joined in the scrap for the bedroom.

Not by staking a place on the top of the bed, that is too obvious in GreeboWorld. He did it by going under the duvet, burrowing underneath Tig then standing up (still under duvet!) to knock Tig over the edge onto the floor. Then stayed there purring away quite happily, while Tig tried to work out what had hit him.

As Tig is the original Nice-but-Dim, this could take a while.

Awwwww.....can I have one?

Think it would make a smashing addition to the Pesky Critters!



Skunk kicks up stink at nightclub

Catbook

I can't be bothered doing Catbook entries for the Mogs just yet, but here are some facts about them.

Tig likes to sit with his front paws in the water bowl

Eric likes Baileys ice cream, and smelly blue cheese

Greebo likes to make a fuss of Jehovah's Witnesses on Sunday morning

Jasmine is terrified of sneezing people

So if anyone wants any of the weirdos, just let me know!

Winehouse Appreciation Day, part 2

After our silly AWAD, I went for a drink with Scott, Lisa and Damon. Civilised grown-up company and all that. Because we are at heart grown-up and civilised, yes?

Errrm....

We started in the Salutation (I can remember when it was all fields round 'ere, mate!) and we were quite sedate - news, work, househunting,mortgages, blahblahblah. Until we realised the cigarette machine at the other end of the bar was the jukebox :) Conversation deteriorated as the music improved, and fed said jukebox until we had the good idea of moving to the Lass O'Gowrie.

I can't remember at which point we started the 'Longest Hair Contest'. Definitely several pints in. Mostly in honour of the lovely purry Elvis. The measuring point was nipple-length, excluding Damon and myself right off. I think Lisa won, though Scott might have reason to believe it was a draw. Bloody hippies! No, D and I are not bitter losers at all :(

Pity the poor live music act - shoved at the end of the pub near the toilets, all the tables nearby packed with the tone-deaf and terminally ignorant. We couldn't get near. We tried to listen appreciatively from the snug, until Damon spotted some geek book on the highest of the obligatory bookshelves. Cue Scott's epic climb up the tricky South-West face of the chimney breast, and much geeky muttering from S and D from this point on.

I ended up running for the bus. I thought I'd given up this sort of nonsense long ago, but it was waiting at the lights and I didn't fancy waiting for a pricey cab, so I went for it.

Want to regain that youthful vigour? Beer really does work best. I went straight back to college stupidity, and it was much more fun than it should have been...

Winehouse Appreciation Day

We are having a Winehouse Appreciation Day at work.

Due to the stringent policies on alcohol and drugs in the workplace, it might be a bit muted.

We can't stretch the budget to Class A drugs but we might manage to sneak a swift half at lunchtime, vodka obviously! Em and Rach are the only ones with hair long enough to backcomb: the rest of us will have to be very creative with flipchart pens.

We are back to being full-time wage drones next week, so it's our last chance for any fun. And it beats any of the stupid exercises on the official staff awayday.

Team BlueFaye vs The Shadow

Blue, of The Reservoir Mogs (Salford Posse) is on the warpath.

Young Shadow, the little cat from next door, has moved from the garden to a full assault on the house. He is determined to be a resident. Pumphrey is a nice-guy cat, and won't fight him off. Same for Red, she is acting way too prissy for a scrap.

So it is left to young Blue to uphold the honour of the Posse. At a mere whiff of the enemy, the hackles go up. Catch a glimpse, and she is the ultimate spitting & fighting fury! And she has an ally.

Faye, now back from Mexico, doesn't like Shadow. In her eyes, he's a little upstart. He did try to leap in her lap while she was eating, then spent some time biting her feet. She feels this is only acceptable behaviour from the family cats. He is too young and stupid to realise that this is not good etiquette. He tries to make up for it by providing her with dead things. Would she like more mice, or maybe a pigeon? He has plans for a squirrel, but he needs to work on his technique.

Alas, the answer is no. He's never going to be allowed in the Posse. Faye loves her cats best, and he should remember where he lives. And Blue watches it all, and remembers why Faye is her favourite family member.

Typical!

Last night we had a bit of a family gathering, as my cousin Gail was in Manchester for a few days. She's travelling from Vancouver to see friends in France, and we've not seen her for years.

So we round up the main Pesky Two Legged Critters, and head off. With a camera...

It just never occurred to us, that we should actually use it! We were having too much fun eating, gossiping, drinking too much and the rest. And there were at least 7 choruses of 'Happy Birthday' for other parties in the restaurant. So of course we joined in! Nothing wrong in making people feel appreciated :)

Or at least for the first 3...

My sister said the record was 13, but think I would've lost the will to live on that night! I think that was probably a works Xmas Lunch that finished about midnight, to fit so many in.

Eating too much, singing and a good night's sleep to follow. I think young Elvis would have approved.

Elvis (Southern Chapter)

One of the Reservoir Mogs (Southern Chapter) is no longer with us.

Elvis did a sterling job as a Reservoir Mog.

He would frequently treat Sophie and Scott to the delights of mouse, frog, bits of kebab, spam (don't ask how he got that) and what looked like someone's barbeque chicken. In fact, anything he could drag through the cat-flap. There was an incident with a small child and some ice-cream, but she didn't get stuck in the cat-flap so no harm done!

He liked to think he was providing a varied diet, though he never got the hang of the fact they were veggie, and he would have done better to dig up an allotment.

He would let them share the bed and sofas, as long as they didn't want too much space. And he was always a perfect gentleman to visiting cat-sitters. He liked the can openers with opposable thumbs and a comfy lap

Elvis has left the kitchen and Eulogy for a moggy