Monday, 11 August 2008

Where are your jeanpants?

Being a blogger myself, I spend quite a bit of time reading other people's blogs. Needless to say, there are many, many brilliant blogs out there that make my little contribution look like, well... crap. I'm so impressed by all the gorgeous designs and so it's inspired me to work on mine. That's the reason why I haven't been posting much - I want to get everything up and running, so I can put my old blog out of its misery. Still working on it... watch this space.

But I just had to blog about something that happened yesterday... Remember a while back I was moaning about my neighbour who phoned to complain about my cat. Well, since then nothing much has changed. He hasn't phoned me since, but I'm sure my kitty still goes into his place. Now that his cats are getting bigger though, they're also getting quite adventurous and the other week I found his male cat in my bedroom. Anyway, what can you do?

So last night at around 7, I was upstairs in my room, trying on stuff that I had bought at the Woolies sale when the most horrific, blood-curling cat screams started up! Half undressed, I ran to the window but couldn't see anything. So I skedaddled downstairs, somehow managing to get back into my jeans by the time I reached the front door. The horrible noises were coming from the bushes in the furthest corner of my little garden, but before I could reach it, I was distracted by the sight of my neighbour on our dividing wall (which is really, really high) dressed in only his T-shirt and jocks!!!! WTF? Now it's not everyday I find a half naked man on my garden wall, but I was brought back to reality by the continuing kitty screams. To cut a long story short, the neighbour found his way into my garden and together we coaxed our respective kitties out. For the record, mine (who's face was bleeding) was miaowing pitifully while his (apparently called 'Heino'!?!) was hissing like some demon spawn. Both kitties were terrified.

By this time, it apparently dawned on the neighbour that all he was wearing was his jocks, and while holding onto 'Heino', he modestly used his free hand to tug his jocks to cover his 'manly bits'. Poor dude! I almost felt sorry for him until he started talking to his cat in a baby voice, 'Shame, did you fall into the wrong garden'. I felt like replying for the cat: 'Fall, my ass. I intentionally entered the garden next door because I am the new tom cat on the block and I kinda felt like pissing off the cat next door. Mwah ha ha ha...' But I bit my tongue.

So that's how my weekend ended. Half naked men and pissed-off pussies. All in a day's work.

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