Fluff in a time of grumpiness

We've had a grumpy couple of weeks. And by "we" I mean "her". I'm a little ray of sunshine - my chance to shine constantly blotted out by Madame's big bad storm clouds of doom.

It should really be the other way round of course - I sit here day after day with only the occasional squirrel for company while she roams the streets and gets to do interesting and exciting things like seeing Mitch Benn playing live ...



I was going to go on strike but I'm not in a union and I'm not allowed to touch her felt tip pens so couldn't do myself a placard. You need placards if you're going on strike. And one of those brazier things. Just asking for burnt ears and scorched fur.

So - Plan B - I am going to run away to and open my own cocktail bar. Over to Mr Chris McMillan, master mixologist of New Orleans for the Brandy Alexander, the Grasshopper, and the Pink Squirrel ...



Oh, and just in case cocktails aren't your thing - SourPuss has very kindly, in between humpfing and grumpfing, added a little linky thing - it's under Links - that should take you to a rather lovely Jacquie Lawson e-card.