viernes, marzo 16, 2007

Guest Blogger - Seymour Squirrel

Eek - Been Caught Squirrelling

Horace the Hedgehog, my buddy and I might add, Best-Mammal at my wedding, wee-mailed me to say that the Gothic one was hosting guest blogs. At first, I thought I mis-sniffed it and so wee-mailed him back asking what in the trees was a log? When I smelt his reply I thought I would give it a go and try and explain a squirrels point of view.

My main activity is to stash things until the day that I may actually use them. Mrs S actually gets rather pissed off with this behaviour. It's not so much that she minds piles of useless crap littering up the place, more that when she wants to tidy the drey up she says "It's ok if I give this away to the RSPCS (Rural Society for the Prevention of Cluttering Squirrels)?". I get indignant and thus my slightly whingeing reply "But I might need that" - that's what really makes her fur stand on end.

This is quite clearly a most ridiculous statement as my chances of using said item in the near future are right up there in likelihood with my chances of arse-kicking a doberman and living to tell the tale. I'm not even sure where half the stuff I stashed is. I put it in such a safe place, so secure that no one could ever take it away that even I can't find it now - DOH *slaps tiny paw against head*.

Today was another busy day at the orifice, searching for acorns - yes, I know it's a squirrels life but I wish there could be a Squirrelsbury acornmarket and I could nip in and pick up what I needed. It would be quicker but, instead I have to spend my days hopping around, hoping to hit the jackpot.

When I have a surplus, I like to take time off and go 'badger-baiting'. I like 'badger baiting' - it's great fun. If you've never done it, I'll explain the rules. Find a suitable vantage point (trees are best really), ensure you have a sufficient supply of acorns and wait. When a badger appears, take aim and POP - right in the back of the head.

Suddenly confused badger (they're not the most intelligent of creatures) will turn around snarling to find no-one there. Thinking it was their imagination they will continue to forage when POP "Yes - another direct hit". Grrrrrr, still no-one there. Now for the twat-trick. On the third direct hit and the inevitable Grrrr you have to adopt a really deep voice and boom down from the tree "This is the voice of your conscience speaking". At this point the Grrrr should turn into a terrified whimper. "You are an evil badger, the faces of your ancestors will haunt you until you make reparation".

At this point, the badger should scarper with it's tale between it's legs - it really is jolly good fun.

Anyway, after that it's back home to Mrs S and the little ones for a nice piece of acorn roast. Then it's time to tell the little ones some tales, mostly bushy tails, but effective at putting them to sleep. Papa S's adventures in Citysville is always popular (although I do cheat somewhat on the details about take-away food).

I must confess, whilst I am talking openly, that I still get jolly excited when I see a large bushy tail on some sexy young fox in the woods - although I have a preferance for the more exotic red squirrelettes rather than the more common grey squirelettes.

I believe that the grey family came over from a distant place called Merry-Can. I wouldn't have a clue where that is as I'm not much of a traveller. Having said all this, I wouldn't cheat on Mrs S - she has this lovely little squirrel snore when she's contented and sleeping. It's so peaceful it puts me to sleep and I dream of being in a wood full of oak trees where the sun glints off all the fat acorns lying there waiting to be eaten. Before you can say eek, it's morning.

Then it's time for breakfast and the daily banter we share in the morning "don't talk with your mouthful dear" - "ha ha - just because you've got three acorns in there, no need to show off". Then it's time to pack the little ones pouches and take them to Nutwood Academia before I head off for another day at the orifice.

Thanks Seymour and thanks to Horace for wee-mailing this. Any chance you could pass the request on to Bernard, Pattie and Arthur please?

Kind regards and thankyou for your time - El Goth.

9 comentarios:

MKWM dijo...

I read until 'Squirrelsbury acornmarket' and had to stop there for the time being, after reading the last lines as well.

Thanks for the laugh and smile you put on my face, S. That Seymour Squirrel is as lovely as the Hedgehog and I look forward to meeting Bernard, Pattie and Arthur. Now what can they be, I wonder...

SpanishGoth dijo...

Hee hee - that would be telling. You'll have to wait and see my dear - glad I made you smile though :)

Anónimo dijo...

Behind at home guess what there is? There is a wood! And in this wood guess what there is? There are badgers! Badgers provided with cartridge pouches, houlala! To climb with the trees and to await the passage of known as the badgers, as the squirrel I will remain discrete, I will avoid making cuckoo! it would take to me for a pigeon.

Bien amicalement

MKWM dijo...

Next installments will probably be full of things like Squirrelsbury and Coliflower, not only will I smile, I'll probably laugh a lot too! Thank you for that, Goth Master. Have a nice w-e :-)

Anónimo dijo...

Bonjour dame MKWM , il semble que le rire est de rigueur

SpanishGoth dijo...

Holy dip-dop -> you are most welcome inside the bag of squirrels

Minky -> np - enjoy Paris, I think you will. I always have a wonderful time when I go there, next time for sure is in July but may go before - bon weekend :)

Anónimo dijo...

The bag of squirrel is convenient for me to delight, if there is good hazelnuts hi! Hi!

James dijo...

Very good Goth-meister. I'm sure you're quite the maddest dude in the blogosphere which is a fair achievement.
*bows with respect*

SpanishGoth dijo...

Dip-Dop -> nuts a plenty et pour toi, quoi que vous pouvez désirer

James -> not mad, just semi-detached ;-) sorry about the chicklet, I did read about it but as the girlies were all over you 'in blog-land' I couldn't say anything