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Tag Archives: Alan Lickman

All Alan wants for Christmas is his 2 front teeth

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So Alan Lickman is now free of jaw wires and is now signed off by the vets. I took him up to the vet on Wednesday morning in the pissing rain. It took longer than usual to walk down Wild Grove as he kept shuffling about in the cat box and impeding my progress.


National Lampoon times:


So he is now finally allowed out and we can dispense with the litter tray, thank goodness! Our garden waste bin is now full of cat shit and litter!


In the light of what appears to be the festive season already.  As manifest by the fact that Elton John is trying the get us to spend money at John Lewis and people are fighting in Lidl over giant cuddly carrots – me, Bman and Linda are going on a night out next week to see ‘Threads’ on the big screen plus a Q&A afterward with actor Reece Dinsdale.  Threads at Halifax Square Chapel


I wonder if there’ll be popcorn, or whether we just get to eat dead sheep off the floor or eat from unlabelled tins of generic meat?


Can I get a….. BOO!

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Currently trying to watch a supernatural thriller on Netflix called ‘Malevolent’.  I’m not getting the full force of the malevolence though due to Bman playing plinky plonky music on his PC in the kitchen while the children bicker over the washing up and the reflection of the kitchen strip light glares onto the TV screen.
From what I can gather so far, Celia Imrie of Acorn Antiques is going a bit Annie Wilkes/Sweeny Todd and I doubt it’s going to end well.

My recommendations on this Day of the Dead would be Andy Nyman’s ‘Ghost Stories’ (which I am currently selling on eBay) and ‘Hereditary’ which was weird as hell and had a decent few jump/horror moments which creeped us out pretty good last night.  The kids had to watch a couple of episodes of ‘The Big Bang Theory’ before they would venture upstairs.



Alan Lickman is getting on board with the Halloween/Dia de los Meurtos time of the year by trying to creep us out. He’s taken to staring at nothing down the side of the washer. So we reckon he can either:-

a)  See a tiny demon down there like the one from Stephen King’s Cat’s Eyes & will kill it before it sucks out our breath in the night (then he’ll do it instead – spoiler alert).


b) He senses the air from the hole at the back where the pipe goes outside & is planning to tunnel out somehow.

He is busting to go outside but we daren’t let him out yet in case he gets his jaw stud gets caught on a fence or something and ends up dangling from his chin! That’d be more expense to add to the accruing amount he is now costing us while I watch next year’s holiday slip from my grasp!



cats eye

Ciao Ciao Xx

When Ian Botham was in the Rebel Alliance

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Actual conversation this morning in Casa Brew:-

Me: It was just total boffins big Brew (I forget what I was referring to)

Bman: Boffins? what like as in “Many Boffins died to bring us this information”

Me:  They weren’t boffins, they were Bothans

Bman: Yeah boffins.

Me: No Both with a Thhhhh not Boff like with a Ffff

Bman: Like B o g g i n s

Me:  That’s boggins honey with a G, that’s not a word

Bman: B o t h a m s ?  Wait no that’s like as in Ian?

Me: Bothans were the Star Wars ones. Boffins are science bods. Botham was a cricketer

Bman: Sure it wasn’t boffins?  Surely the Bothans must have been boffins too then?

Me:  (starts googling jpegs of Bothans and Boffins)



Me:  Anyway, I meant bobbins not boffins, Bothans or Bothams.  Bobbins. It was bobbins*!


This is why we should be on Gogglebox… or not!

We then took Alan Lickman on a planned visit to the vets for a check up on his special eye and for them to have a gander at the swollen lump on his neck which started to form yesterday. On the way up to the vets though,  I detected a rank smell in the car and we thought he might have done a shit in his cat box.  But no… the lump had burst!  

D I S G U S T I N G!

They’ve cleaned him up and he seems a bit more on form although he looks even more like General Woundwort than he did before with his special eye and his ragged face.


How much did I chuckle though when I asked Bman if he’d fed him since they came back and (referring to the liquid cat food we have to give him) he said he’d given him “two soups”

I think we all know what I was picturing in my head.



Hopefully he is still covered by his pet insurance and hasn’t maxed himself out yet.  I will be on the blower to them tomorrow to clarify. I want to know whether or not we are having Christmas or not this year, or we’re all eating cat soups and sleeping in the same bed with our coats on to keep warm because we can’t put the heating on.

Later MoFos Xx

*bobbins = utter rubbish, worthless

Eye Eye, Ear Ear.

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He’s back! Not quite as we know it, but he’s back.  Not quite the same pussycat but not in a terrifying way like that one on Stephen King’s Pet Semetary. He hasn’t tried to eat our faces off yet. He hasn’t tried to eat anything TBH.
I am feeding him through his feeding tube with what seems to be some kind of Dunns River nourishment drink for cats.  He mostly lies around, not moving and looking very very sorry for himself. But wouldn’t you if you could only see out of one eye and had a tube dangling from your neck held in place with a bandage covered in pictures of tractors?



I have to be Nurse Radchett to his Randle McMurphy, doling out his meds and twiddling about with his tubes and bandages and lubricating his special eye.



The pair of us have been sleeping on the couch downstairs.  Him with his lethargy & gimpiness and me with my special ears.  This is the collection of unguents and medications I have accrued over the last week to try and sort my swim ear out. Had to go into the chemist and ask for the strongest painkiller they could legally sell me.  The full Ant McPartlin/ Matthew Perry package. 



One of the things has come from America, from Amazon. Seemingly it’s no longer available in the UK. Quite possibly for the same reason you can’t just walk into a store here and buy pepper spray like you can over there.  I tried some in my bad ear and it felt like when you inhale sharply after eating wasabi and you briefly have 20/20 vision and can see the future.  Like someone had stuck a lit sparkler in my ear canal!  When I checked the ingredients I saw that it was 95% alcohol!

Here’s to both of us being back to 100% soon.  Meanwhile we’re both watching 22 July on Netflix – a dramatization of Anders Breivik’s lunatic attack on Oslo and Utoya island. Terrifying stuff. What a fookin’ nutter!  Be wary kids. Not everyone is who they say they are, just because they’re dressed as a policeman or wearing a Hi-Vis.

On that chilling note, I’ll leave you there while I go and administer more kerosene to my ear.


Ciao Ciao


PS:  Oh. BTW.  Pet insurance.  You need that shit.  So far Alan has cost around £3K (luckily he is covered) but Bman could have got a new car for that!

That’s at least 1 life gone!

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My little baby big fat man cat, Alan Lickman is hospitalized and slowly eating into the meager savings we have, while he has his smiley face repaired.



Cat Vs Taxi


Got a call at 1:30am Sunday morning from the local PDSA saying someone had brought him in after finding him on the road nearby.  They weren’t sure he would survive, so after waking Bman, off we went in the wee small hours leaving the childerbeast unattended and hoping that they wouldn’t be carted off in a fireman’s lift in their PJs, never to be seen again.

Surreal experience of being at the vet’s at that time. Not helped by still being half asleep and the lady on the desk confusing us with some people who arrived at the same time with a sick dog. This led to us being ignored and left unsupervised in the reception area for quite some time. 

We couldn’t get back outside to ring the intercom buzzer and there was no bell or anything on the desk.  Resorted to calling out ghost hunt style. “Hallo. Is there anybody there?”  Eventually, someone appeared and we got to see him.  I say we – Bman isn’t right cracking at this type of thing. I have a slightly better constitution for the grisly and the messy – from being a mum, first aider and a primary school educator I guess. So I went in to see him to check out the damage first.

Poor little dude looked a right state.  Sloth from the Goonies sprung to mind! Was glad Bman didn’t see him in his gory glory.  His jaw was dislocated and he had a bit of a popeye going on and looked a bit of an actual bloody mess.  But alive! And aware that I was there despite being hopped up on methadone. (Him, not me).

Since then he’s been patched up and his jaw rewired. he’s pottering about a bit but being fed through a feeding tube.  They’re keeping him in for a few days still and I’m hoping to go visit him tomorrow,  take him some grapes and Lucozade and a comic – that kind of thing.  Wonder if he’ll be in one of those backless gowns with his butt hanging out?

I only hope I can track down the lady who took him to the PDSA because I think if he’d been left or run off when he was hit, that he would be brown bread in a bush somewhere.

Thank you, whoever you are.  Hopefully he will be home soon.









High 5 yourself if you’re still alive after 2016

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So it’s the final day of the year 2016 and time for my annual review.


Essentially, in the words often used in our house, when we were kids, when providing a synopsis of a film plot – “Everybody died”.  The day is still young so there is still time for Death to pull more names from his hat of finality.  This year has seen him taking rather too many for my liking.  For now though at least, I am still here and so are my nearest and dearest, which is what matters.

Despite the celebrity death toll, 2016 hasn’t been completely unfortunate for me.  I  have survived a cull of a different kind at work (for now at least), which saw other friends sadly fall by the wayside. My role has changed. It’s busier and often more stressful but do you know what? I still have a job and in these harsh times, I am grateful for that.

We have a new Prime Minister. Brexit happened – sort of – not yet – who knows when that shit will get sorted out!  There’s a new & controversial President of the USA. We lost British Homes Stores and it looks as though we lost Bea Smith on Wentworth too.


Socially I have reconnected with old friends not seen for many years, and that has been a highlight for me and reassuring to know that after all these years, they are still cheeky, lovable cunts. I may not have a massive circle of friends and I may not go out all that often, but I love the friends I do have.  I have even been asked to perform 2 marriage ceremonies for 2 different friends in 2017!


I have spent quality time with my girlies. My youngest is now in High School.  We’ve done a festival with my sibs.  I finally visited Brighton after threatening it for years. Had a great family holiday to Tenerife.  I have a new niece in Liverpool.  Bman and I have managed another year of not killing one another. We have a new kitchen (and another cat to shit in it). 

What’s next for 2017?  

     Investigating a haunted house next week.  Hooking up with old friends again in Bishop’s Stortford in March. A family holiday to Florida in April. A mum & girlies week in Tenerife at the end of July.  A return to Shambala festival in August and two weddings to officiate.  Also hoping to do Brighton Pt2 – The Return of the killer hangover, and get to see the lovely ‘Crap Possee Official’ at some stage, because it’s been far too long.  Looking forward to a Cards Against Humanity rematch including Bman, my brother & his girlfriend.  If only to see if we can possibly top my bro-in-law whispering the words, “erm, it’s dick cheese Paul” to my dad.


What could go wrong?

So, to summarize, in traditional picture form:-





Essentially how I have felt all year!


Baby Alan Lickman




Big fat Alan Lickman – in festive attire



Remember to trust your cunt in 2017!



Stay alive y’all. Be happy. Don’t take any shit. Brush your teeth. Try not to be too much of an asshole and remember that a little bit of what you fancy does you good.


Lethargy and Apathy. My two best mates.

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I took to hiding in bed this afternoon to escape the tumultuous noise of husband and offspring’s nerve-janglingly loud voices (and the fact that I felt weirdly unwell in a way I couldn’t quite put my finger on).


Youngest Childerbeast came to snuggle with me then said she saw a grey mist move across my feet sticking out of the covers. She thought it might be the ghost of Gollum the cat, comforting me from the beyond.   I suspect it may have been the spectre of my long lost youth, health and enthusiasm for life – and even that wasn’t sticking around. It was heading for the window.*


Be so much simpler to be a cat – dead or otherwise.

Look at this little guy:-

Not a care in the world other than where to snooze or shit next!


* was more than likely a dust bunny


Images courtesy of Google images and Gary Larson