Party Animals

My Dear Fellows & Dear Princess,

I had to buy this card. Even though it is not my birthday, nor the birthday of anyone I know. Rooster jokes are just funny. Not as funny as, "May all your doughnuts look like Fanny's" but still funny.

I just had to look it up. Johnny Craddock really did say it.

"So I have to go back to see the eye surgeon," Cazza told me today. "On account of he had a good look and said I've got a wrinkly flap."

Coffee spit.

"He said he can see some lint in there too," wailed Cazza. 

No, this ISN'T FUNNY. Stop that. She is, of course, talking about the flap in her EYEBALL. However, neither of us is that worried about it. She seems to be able to see well enough. And anyway, tonight Tiger and LouLou came round for tea. They are a good laugh. And share our highbrow sense of humour. 

We got talking about LouLou's poo issues. She is keeping a log. 

By which I mean a journal. Obviously. It is to help her track the foods that trigger an upset tummy. She needed to use our toilet tonight but we told her she needn't worry because we have "poo drops". These are those citrus drops that ELIMINATE all traces of pooey smell. They are AMAZING.

Once we had exhausted that subject, Cazza decided she needed to tell everyone about Feefs's dog Tiggy. Feefs came home to find him apparently in discomfort, with a swelling in his groin area, shaking and groaning.

Deeply concerned, she RUSHED Tiggy to the vet. "It was the Hot Vet as well," explained Feefs. "He laughed when I explained the symptoms and told me that Tiggy had been having a doggy w*nk."

"But he doesn't even have his NADS," exploded Feefs. 

"Even so, it is very common," said The Hot Vet. And sure enough, by now, Tiggy seemed just fine. Quite pleased with himself, in fact.

"But his skin is very tight in that area," explained The Hot Vet. "We might need for Tiggy to have a minor operation to loosen things up down there."

"He wants her dog to have a bris??" suggested Tiger.

To make matters worse, Feefs had taken her son with her to the vet. Only eight, he didn't really understand what the problem was, or why his mum was so perturbed about it.

"How WOULD you explain that?" I wondered aloud. "...You see, when a dog and a cushion love each other VERY MUCH..."

Once we'd exhausted that topic LouLou told us about her new work team bonding idea, "We give one team member a lot of acid. Like FOUR times the normal amount, and then the rest of the team has to talk them down."

"But wait," interrupted Tiger, "when you told me this idea, I thought EVERYONE was on acid?"

"Oh yes," continued LouLou, "but only a little bit for the rest of us." She rethought things. "Maybe we should do it with MDMA instead of acid. Only then they'd probably all shag each other and the whole team bonding thing would go too far."

So it was a very silly evening of conversation about poo, drugs, dogs and swearing. But we did have the occasional lapse into seriousness on politics, history and Cazza's eyeball.

"I'm not worried," said Cazza. "my ophthalmologist reckons he can fix my wrinkly flap."

"You really need to stop calling it that," I said.

"He says I need to try new drops," she continued.

"Poo drops?" asked Tiger. "That's a bit bloody rude. What sort of doctor is he again?"

It's probably as well they left when they did. Our conversation was getting far too intellectual.

May all your doughnuts look like Fanny's.

S.