A much loved friend in Kent says that when I retire I should open a special retirement home for retired morris dancers and street entertainers and we shall sit around drinking tea, smoking da 'erb,  farting and remonstrating with the crumpets.
 
He says it's because of my habit of picking up waifs and strays and bringing them home and feeding them up and forcing copious cups of tea down their necks.

The name for it stuck so well that I am having a sign carved for my lovely new house saying:

'Shellies Home for the Terminally Bewildered'

Indeed that's what I am ....

I'm taking bookings now if anyone is interested!

I want one of those and one of those oh and I think I'll have one of those ....

http://www.onehorseshy.com/holiday/funny_holiday/

Can I have em for my Christmas pressie perlease?

I really do not like Christmas, I find it tacky, salespeople are irritating and overly cheerful - I know they really don't want to serve me, they would rather be out with their mates or doing their own christmas shopping.

I've not liked Christmas for most of my life, so I know it's not just a recent thing, childhood christmasses at home were something to avoid if possible, My Dad drank ... a lot .. all of the time ... christmas was just yet another excuse for him to be away from home, then my Nan and Grandad would start one of their interminable rows - they'd end up not talking to each other for weeks at a time - when my Grandad died in 1990, my Nan hadn't spoken to him in 3 weeks!

They lived in the same house, they ate at the same table, yet they hadn't spoken in 3 weeks!! They did love each other and my Nan pined for my Grandad after he died and she followed him only 6 years later. I miss them both very much even if it is just their bickering!

I've also always felt really bad about celebrating Christmas, it all seems so wrong, especially as I know the effort my Mum put into Christmas, trying to give my brother and I a happier time than she had - her Mum died on Christmas eve when my Mum was only 14 and she had to take on the role of 'Mum' to her younger siblings.

We would normally try to go to visit the folks in Kent after Christmas, but this year it's all the wrong way round, we are doing the 'Kent' run on the 18th not because we are going to visit the folks and do Christmas but because we are going to attend the funeral of a family friend who died very suddenly last week.

So there's just some of the many reasons I really don't want to celebrate Christmas this year.

I will do what needs to be done for the sake of my daughter - but if I hear one more playing of Last fucking Christmas by Wham, I will do one of the following:

Throw up on your shoes
Stab you through the heart
Put a bag on my head and sing tra la la
and run away screaming ...............

I've got a feeling that my cat Soapy is conspiring .....

Extracts from a Dog's Daily Diary:

8:00 am: Dog food! My favorite thing!

9:30 am: A car ride! My favorite thing!

9:40 am: A walk in the park! My favorite thing!

10:30 am: Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!

12:00 pm: Lunch! My favorite thing!

1:00 pm : Played in the yard! My favorite thing!

3:00 pm: Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!

5:00 pm: Milk bones! My favorite thing!

7:00 pm: Got to play ball! My favorite thing!

8:00 pm: Wow! Watched TV with my master! Heavenly!

11:00 pm: Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

Extracts from a Cat's Daily Diary:

Day 683 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the floor. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. The audacity! There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage. Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs. I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released -- and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded! The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. The captives have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe....... for now....