Everybody Wants To Be A Cat

11-06-2014 Wednesday

Mum wants to buy a cat. Has she lost her mind!? We’ve got a dog. A small one, but a dog nonetheless. What if they can’t stand each other? What if I’m allergic? What if the dog is allergic? Cats are aliens to me. I have no idea how to deal with them. They are from a totally different planet. Why would she want to have a cat anyways? Hairs! Hairs everywhere. I told Mum this was just a phase she was going through. ‘This, too, shall pass,’ I said to her. Dad tried to talk her out of it by saying he’d like a new car, too. I didn’t see how that was going to help our case, but Dad thought there was some kind of logic to it. Mum didn’t budge.
It’s not that I have anything against having a cat as a pet; it’s just that I don’t see why. There are two kinds of people in this world: dog lovers and all the others. I belong to the dog lovers and I see no reason for any cat to set foot in castle Didymus. I don’t think, however, that Dad and I have got any say in this. Mum is more or less in charge in this house, even though Dad thinks he is in charge and his only claim to fame is that he brings home the bacon. Mum’s reply to this is that she always does all the shopping and has never seen Dad come home with any bacon. Unless you count that one time he brought home a friend who looked like the male counterpart of Miss Piggy. He even sounded like her.
Mum asked me if I knew a good name for the cat. All I could come up with was,’ Sushi, Pizza, Anchovy, Pork Chop, and Salad. I even said that I could understand if she didn’t want to name the cat after food, that is why I also   She didn’t like the names at all and then turned to Dad. He said he’d like to give the cat an Amerindian name, like ‘Standing Bull’ or ‘Sitting Bear’. Mum said she’d come up with a name of her own. I think it would be best for her and the cat if she did. The cat might just get a decent name. As you will understand I named the dog.
So, if I you don’t hear from me all of a sudden, I may just have fled to another country or at least to another house. I heard Mr Bent’s got a spare bed, and I might just be needing it. Which reminds me that I have go round his place this week, because I haven’t heard or seen him for quite some time and I don’t want the newspapers to read something like,’ Dead Guy Found Rotting After 8 Weeks – Neighbours Never Noticed’.

See me tomorrow. 

Clowns Lie

08-06-2014 Sunday (Whitsun)

Mum and I went on another shopping spree and it was totally wicked. We went to Camden and this is really special, because Mum hates it there. Well, actually, hated, because she seemed to be enjoying herself yesterday. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. And we even bought a great pair of jeans there and a very cool hat sort of thingy.20140609_090126-1

I won’t be allowed to wear it at school, but I think I’m going to wear it a lot in my leisure time. Shopping really cheered me up a lot. Dad had a great surprise for Mum when we got home. Even though he didn’t have to he did all the chores that were on Mum’s list. He had even made a great dinner. Well, Mum and I both suspect him of having ordered it and then presenting it as if it was homemade. Actually, we were pretty sure, Mum found some of the boxes in the bin outside. She didn’t say anything about it, though. I did.

Mum said,’ Wow, honey, you’ve really outdone yourself.’

Dad (stammering a little),’ Yeah, I found one of your cookbooks, and I though it looked really easy.’

Me,’ Ohw, you mean the Yellow Pages!?’

Stephanie told me that breaking up with Evelyn might just inspire me to write great things. Here’s an even that was really inspiring (maybe it was the combination of the event and the break-up). While walking through the city last yesterday Mum and I saw this really creepy looking street artist dressed as a clown. He called himself ‘the Great Zucchini’. He wasn’t that great though. From the looks of it he had drunk too much and the only thing funny about him was that he kept falling off of his unicycle. It looked to me as if he had come straight from a horror film. Mum told me the clown reminded her of the book ‘It’ by S. King. She said she has never been able to finish it, because it is dead scary. I haven’t read the book and if this clown resembled the clown from the book, I’m not going to read it either.
After he had given up trying to ride his unicycle he started a juggling act. He couldn’t even keep one ball in the air, let alone five. It was pathetic. Then he said he was going to drink some of his ‘magic water’, because that would probably make things go better. His so-called magic water looked more like booze to me and it smelled like it, too. I have no idea why we kept watching. Maybe we were somehow waiting for a trick to go right for a change. He held five balls in his hands, three in one and two in the other. He was building up tension by pretending to throw them up in the air, a radio behind him was playing Oh Fortuna, he murmured something about being the best juggler in the world and when he felt that the tension had reached a maximum he threw all five balls high up in the air at the same time. He caught none.

All this inspired me to write the following. It’s called Clowns Lie.

So bored by the faces
I know what they’ll do
The world will be laughing
They haven’t a clue
Just a few; happy few
Know the truth; they know why
I’m not laughing but sobbing
For clowns they all lie

Clowns they lie

Enough of the laughter
What’s wrong with the show
Some may find it funny
I’ve got class, don’t you know
Just a bunch have a hunch
What’s cramping their style
‘Cause clowns have been know
For all of their lies for quite a while

Clowns they lie

Come down here to float
They all float down here
On a bottle of whisky
On a bottle of beer
Come down here to lie
They all lie down here
On a bottle of whisky
On a bottle of beer

Now there’s a universal truth
That you just can’t deny
One day you will find out
That clowns they all lie
Just a few know it’s true
They can tell by the nose
It’s red from the booze
‘Cause that’s how it goes

Clowns they lie


Good night and see me tomorrow.

When You’re Alone (And Life Is Making You Lonely)

07-06-2014 Saturday

Thanks everybody for your lovely and inspirational words, they really meant a lot to me. You’ve made a teenager with a broken heart smile and realise that there are so many beautiful people out there and that worse things happen at sea. Evelyn doesn’t seem to be sad, so why should I!? I am not the only one nor the first one suffering from a broken heart and this may well be a good lesson in life for me.
Mum is taking me shopping today to cheer me up. It is supposed to be a sunny day and a good day for going out to shop till we drop. Dad is not coming. At breakfast Mum said to him quite scornfully, ‘You are not coming, today, you’re staying in to make yourself useful for a change. Here’s a list of household chores that need to be done. And I expect them to be done by the time we get home.’ Dad looked at her the way Cheddar often does after it’s been told off for doing something wrong. He knows perfectly well that his remark yesterday was below the belt and Mum really showed him who’s boss.
I’m getting ready to leave, Mum said she wanted to get there early and start off having tea somewhere downtown. That’s when she started singing Petula Clark’s ‘Downtown’. For some reason it’s very difficult to resist singing along to this song so I joined in. Dad ran for cover. I’m sure that had he not done so, he would have joined in as well; probably against his will, but he would have done so nonetheless. Now, thanks to Mum, that song has been stuck in my head all morning.
Dad walked in to apologise for his remark yesterday. I’m glad I was decent. Parents always have a way of walking in while you are just getting dressed or undressed. Luckily for the both of us I was just packing my bag with some food and drinks for the road. Anyways, I think Mum put him up to it. I think it was either apologise to me or do all the household chores she told him to do. He still won’t be coming along with us, though. First of all Dad is not the shopping kind of guy. Secondly, he has to stay home with Cheddar, and last but not least: Mum is still kind of angry with him.

That’s it, I’m off. Have a great day everybody and thank you very, very much. See me tomorrow. 

Gee, I’m Glad It’s Raining

06-06-2014 Friday

I have been more or less crying my eyes out for the past three days. I feel somewhat better today at least okay enough to write about it. Evelyn and I broke up three days ago. She said she felt it was time to part, because things have changed. Don’t ask me which things, she wouldn’t tell me. It does not look like she is having a hard time dealing with it. She’s been quite her normal self, if you’d ask me. On Monday everything seemed quite normal to me and then on Tuesday she suddenly ended it all.
When I came to school last Tuesday Evelyn was kind of standoffish. Normally we give each other a little kiss and a hug, but this time: nothing. All she said was,’ Can we talk after school?’ in a kind of weird way. It was not her normal way of speaking, but I couldn’t really make out what was different and what it was supposed to mean. Women are such a mystery to me. I’ve been thinking about reading that book called Men Are From Mars and Women Are From Venus, maybe that could help me understand things better.
Evelyn is kind of avoiding me and she constantly hangs around with this guy called Zack. Worst thing is, the two of them are sitting at what used to be OUR table! I guess it’s now their table. I don’t need a table anyways, because I kind of lose appetite when I see her. Actually, I have lost my appetite in general. It feels like I’ve lost about as much weight in the last three days as I did last month. Breaking up is a very fast way of losing weight; I bet it’s not really a healthy way. My appetite will come back soon, I bet, and it will probably bring reinforcements, too.
Mum has been really supportive. Dad has been … Dad. First thing he said when Mum told him (I didn’t tell him, and I think you’ll understand why when you read his reaction),’ Looks like you’re going to die a virgin after all, son.’ Mum was mad at him for saying that. I couldn’t really be mad, because I was too busy feeling sad. This is where Mum made me some tea and Dad hid behind his newspaper. From the looks of things Mum wanted to throw one of the teacups at him, but decided not to when she realised she had gotten them from Grandma as a birthday present years ago. I would have thrown one if I were Mum.
Hopefully this will pass soon, because it has surely affected my writing skills. It took me a long time to write just a couple of paragraphs. Ohw, I don’t know about you, but I always like to listen to gloomy songs when I feel like this (which isn’t very often). Here’s one of my favourite songs I listen to in times like this. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IqjUC8tDH9s.

See me tomorrow. Hopefully. 

Board Games and Coffee Stains

02-06-2014 Monday 

Thank God I’m back. I had to stay at Grandma’s during the weekend and I got back this afternoon and lordy, lordy am I glad to be home. How did Grandpa manage to live with this woman? Ohw, that’s right, he didn’t. Dad says Grandpa died because he didn’t want the agony of living with Grandma any longer. Dad’s a (bad four letter word).
I had forgotten to bring my pyjamas so Grandma made me sleep in one of her nightdresses. At times like these I am just so happy that she can’t handle a camera and does not know how the Internet works. She’s one of those people who goes to a computer shop and says things like,’ I’d like one Internet, please’ and then she’d add,’ It’s ‘taking out’ so I’d like some portable wifis with that, too, please.’ Anyways, it was one of those old smelly nightdresses, totally worn, a little torn and it was covered in weird looking brown-ish, stains and a couple of white-ish ones. Don’t ask, please … don’t ask and don’t even think about it.
Before I went away Evelyn asked me where Grandma lived, I told her that it wasn’t a matter of ‘where’; it was a matter of ‘when’. Grandma still thinks she’s living in the 70s; sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll. Two of those things are not things you’d want to know about your own granny. She showed me some pictures of herself in the 70s. She was young, smoking, drinking and surrounded by men. Basically nothing’s has changed over all those years, but for her age. Really, I have no idea why it is that she is still surrounded by so many men and that there are these weird looking stains on her nightdress.
I’m not going to go into too many details about the weekend at the moment, there’s just one thing I’d like to say now. Grandma is one of the biggest cheaters in the world when it comes to playing board games. Never in my life have I seen anybody so bad at losing that she’s willing to cheat at anything, everything! Not only that, she also mixes up all the rules and I have no idea whether she does it on purpose or whether it’s one of those things that come with old age. She kept saying ‘check mate’ while playing a game of checkers. When we switched to chess (I thought I was bad at this game) she kept saying it was her turn to throw the dice and she wanted to buy Kings Cross Station and Euston Road. Halfway through the game I noticed that she was trying to put a bishop of hers back on the board. She had somehow managed to take it from me when she was handing me a biscuit. Never take biscuits from old lady ladies, kids!
Grandma read me a bedtime story, which was kind of cute. Well, the intention was cute. She picked up the book from the desk in her room. I believe she thought it was the bible, and although it had a black cover, it was far from the bible. I think Grandma had thrown away the dust cover and I think she had done so for a reason. The book was not meant for my ears and I am not going to say anything about what was in the book, suffice to say that this was a lot more informative than biology class. I didn’t tell this to my parents; Mum would probably kill Grandma over this. Dad would probably laugh his head off and go round Grandma’s to ask for the title of the book. Dirty old man. So, this was my weekend in short. Hope you had a nice one, maybe even nicer one. See me tomorrow.