Doggy Num Nums

dog in pub

Dogs in pubs. Do we like this? Discuss.

OK wait. Stop discussing. I’ll give you the answer. No we friggin bloody well don’t! Fark, if it’s not bad enough that I seem to have moved to early-thirties-middle-class-baby-making center of the universe, now I need to deal with dogs for dinner. At. I mean at dinner. No need to call the RSPCA.

This particular pub has a what do you call it, a mascot dog, an in-house dog, a doggy dweller? I could almost forgive that horse of a thing because it looks like its a hundred years old, moves at the pace of a tortoise and if it still possesses a voice, it hasn’t yet given so much as a throat clear all the times I’ve been there. Continue reading

Furry Pussy Love

I took my pussy to have her lady-bits fiddled with the other day. Which means she’ll never have to deal with the pain-in-the-arse that is sex (pardon the pun, if you’re that way inclined) and menstruation. Lucky bitch.

Anywaaaay, being an indoor cat, she’s only been outside once. That was when I took her to the park when she was 10 weeks old.

Beans on a leash


So because of this just getting to the vet was a trauma, crossing the road, the cars and trucks and noises and smells scared her to death. Thank fuck I only live three doors away from the vet. Inside the examination room, I had to hold her and try to calm her while the vet put a thermometer up her bum. By that point her whole little furry body was shaking uncontrollably and she sat in my arms silently petrified. How do you explain to a cat that the occasional thermometer up the bum is nowhere near as annoying as a lifetime of sex? Continue reading

What did Nat think of it…

Well after my usual periods of procrastination, I have finally begun the new blog I said I would way back here in November. Oops.

I’m actually having a lot of fun writing these posts, so just like with the new toy you get for Christmas, I won’t be surprised if I neglect The Bum Diaries a tiny bit until the shine wears off this new one.

Anyway, if you’re stuck for something to watch, check out “What Did Nat Think of It” and maybe I can be of assistance.

Top 5 Reasons the Hollywood Award Season is Naff

This is going up on Planet Ivy later, but here’s the unedited version. In other words, the way longer one. And by the way, I’ll still be watching them, just not the whole thing like I used to when I was teen and still had idols. Now it’s more like catching the best bits the next day. Much more practical in my old age.

2012 Oscars Arrivals

The Hollywood award season is here. Yeah, thanks, I think we know. Open a paper, turn on the TV, log on the net or eavesdrop on the Tube and there it is. Well I’m over it, and the only person who seems to agree with me is Joaquin Phoenix. In a recent interview he said “I think it’s total, utter bullshit, and I don’t want to be a part of it. I don’t believe in it. It’s a carrot, but it’s the worst-tasting carrot I’ve ever tasted in my whole life. I don’t want this carrot.” On a good day, Phoenix comes across to most as bat-shit crazy, but to me he’s just become Stephen frigging Hawking.

Here’s my top five reasons why the Hollywood award season is ridonkulous.

Everyone’s Too Beautiful

Being made to watch arguably the most beautiful people in the world, dressed in arguably the most beautiful clothes in the world, hair and make-up done, sitting in a big room being all beautiful together is just plain rude. Every time the camera cuts to the audience, there it is; inhuman glamour, perfection, success, talent, riches. Oh my eyes! Stop it. Even the ugly people somehow look beautiful at an awards show. I mean if Quentin Tarantino can be made to look like he hasn’t just dragged himself in from a week-long bong session, then surely that’s proof that the awards shows are working some kind of crazy voodoo not available to us mere mortals. Even Lena Dunham, the creator of Girls, someone who makes a living trying to make us embrace our ugly, looked cute as a button at The Golden Globes. Well, cute as a tattooed-pixie-button with too much eyeliner on I mean.

There’s Too Bloody Many of Them

Here’s the ones I know off the top of my head: The Academy Awards, Golden Globes, SAG Awards, Emmy’s, Independent Spirit Awards, Critics’ Choice, AFI Awards and The People’s Choice. Why? How many times do these people need to be told how wonderful they are? And if there are different winners at each event, how do we know who got it right? If five different awards ceremonies give the best actor to say, three different actors, who really was the best actor? By the way, who are these “people” who choose the People’s Choice Awards? I’m a person. Nobody’s ever asked me.

The Speeches

A couple of years ago I might have just pointed out the speeches were long, boring and teary, but these days they’re are so witty, intelligent and heart-warming, it’s like they’ve hired a writer. I’m beginning to think maybe there should be an award for best awards show speech. Continue reading

Weird Stuff I Done Seen Today #7

Maybe I just don’t spend enough (any) time in playgrounds and maybe this sign is completely normal, but it made me laugh. So perhaps it will appeal to those of you who have no children in your life.

funny signs

I don’t know about you, but I think that’s pretty unfair. Some of us are still in touch with our inner child you know? If we had to go and snatch a child from the park just so we could get into the playground and swing to our heart’s content, I think that might just be counter-productive to what this stupid rule is trying to avoid in the first place.