Until you hang upon such a cross, you won't know a thing about laughter or loss...and you don't believe me now, but you will...you will, you wil you will you will...you will, you will - Titus Andronicus

Hey All, Best Read This First:

reetings and a warm welcome to my blog.

First things first

This blog contains words and references offensive to those who never made it through the maturation process.

The intellectually and psychologically impaired will find nothing here to enjoy.

If this applies to you, dear reader, you're welcome, and strongly encouraged to leave now. No hard feelings on my part.

I'm trying to make this clear to the 'boo hoo brigade". If you CANNOT grasp this simple concept. This page is NOT FOR YOU


*PS: I'm pro Palestinian, pro animal rights in a way that pisses many people off. You should consider fucking off now if you object to this kind of thing.

Cheers Kiddies.


PS This blog is not really fit for human consumption, it's best read as it was written, drunk on vodka or otherwise high as a kite...Enjoy...


10 Reasons To Be a Vegan: Now Ain't That Some Shit?!

Hey there, I'm supposed to be asleep but I keep waking up, I had some great news today and I can't stop thinking, that one brain cell is rattling up a storm I can tell you.

This is just a quickie post, like an old dog's fuck, blink and it's over, as sexy as old cheese.

1. Your shit won't stink: it's true, your shit will stop stinking and you'll produce much less of it. It will make your ass a desirable piece of real estate if your partner is so inclined to use it sexually.

2. A Clearer Conscience: Although some of you will never achieve this, it's at least a step closer to decency, which many could well do with.

3. Dairy Really Stinks: It's true! once you stop consuming it, you realise how bad it smells. It smells like raw meat.

4. It's better for you:  Nations with the highest rates of dairy consumption have the highest rates of osteoperosis.

5. For women: A female friend told me that since she stopped consuming dairy, she no longer experienced menstrual pain or clots.

6. For Fellows: High dairy consumption has been in some studies linked with cock cancer.

7. Your Dignity: What kind of a retard drinks the stuff produced for the babies of other species? It's fucking bizarre. Imagine getting down on your hands and knees and sucking away on a cow's teat?? You may as well be doing that.

8. Your Ego: Being vegan gives you sense of smug, sexy, otherworldliness. People who drink milk or consume it's value added products are like infantalized oafs. Deeply unsexy.

9. Love: somewhere, at every second you will the pin up for all cows and their calves the world over. Their Saint even, especially if they're Catholic Cows.

10. The Clincher: You'll stop being a selfish, unappealing, cruel fuck that nobody really likes

Conclusion. Stop consuming animal products. Stop using products made from the exploitation of their bodies. Stop being a self indulgent, cruel pathetic fuck.

♬   And you don't believe me now., but you will, you will, you will, you will, you will. you will, ♬ 

 LAND O LAKES FARM CRUELTY ~ PLEASE SIGN PETITION by Marla Stormwolf (Marla) on Myspace

Conklin Dairy Farms Video Shows Dairy Cows Being Violently Abused, Says Mercy For Animals (VIDEO) - Mixx

Take a look at the lives of those who live only to bring you a cheap glass of pus. Go PETA.


Comfortably Numb

Hello, wanna hear the ultimate in fucking irony? (this really is my last entry here) Quite some months ago, someone on twitter recommended I hear Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" as a kind of warning about using heroin. They blipped it for me, but then, as now, it was hard for me to get blips, it's easier here, but still hit and miss.

Anyway, after my move and getting clean of smack, I'm catching up on my song wish list. I yesterday bought Floyd's Comfortably Numb from that other God of All Things: Itunes.

I can't stop listening to it. Now why is that? Well, cos the song meant to 'warn me a little' is having the entirely opposite affect. I want to shoot up so badly, I'm actually in tears right now. No bullshit. (No big fuckin' deal either) Read these lyrics:

"Just nod if you can hear me...c'mon now, I hear you're feelin' down, I can ease the pain, relax...can you show me where it hurts?

There is no pain, you are receding...you are only coming through in waves...

Now I've got that feeling once again, I can't explain, you would not understand, this is not how I am...I have become...comfortably numb.."

Was this supposed to keep me from shooting up? Fuck, it's actually making me crave the 'good old days' with a vengeance both emotional and psychological in ways I can barely control. Can you understand? Probably not, and it's better that you can't. My dependence on heroin I sometimes think is more psychological (oh it's physical too alright, withdrawal only gets harder and harder to take each time), but God, when I'm not on it, I only feel horrendous psychological pain and emptiness. I can't explain. The only reason I'm not going to use again is because I have a family of cats, dogs and fish that depend on me. But I'm only happy when I'm high on heroin.

I don't want to eat, I don't care what happens to me. I take care of the others, then the time to myself is spent  acting like a fool on twitter and going out with friends and taking stupid, dangerous risks so I can try to forget. Forget what? I dunno, I can't find the words to tell you, and I don't want to. Who cares, we all have our little shit fests.

I won't shoot up again, I know that I can't. But let me tell you one thing, heroin, unlike many many people, never, ever lets you down or leaves you feeling raw, stung or eviscerated.

"There is no pain, you are receding...like distant ships float on the horizon...C'mon, it's time to go"



Again, I'll begin with my customary wishes for your good health, and I wish this for you in all things: psychological, physical, financial, and whatever else qualifies as important to you. I'm happy to report that things are as they usually are with me, I've got some kind of a head cold and dreadful tiredness, the best thing to be said for my whining is that it's consistent. Ok. Done with Salutations.

This is not really a post it's the addendum I mentioned in my "last post" (yes it's getting kind of embarrassing, but I PROMISE you, this truly is the last you'll hear from me on this blog). What I've decided to do is, remove all followers and lock it, this will turn this blog into something I've wanted for some time: a private diary type of thing and a writing aid.

If you remember, my "last" post was meant to include a note or two about freedom, only I was a little tired to conclude as I'd intended. So here it is. (Once again, there's nothing terribly interesting about this for anyone it's not bread 'n circus or boo hoo, so I suggest you go do something else), I just want to write this, whether you read it or not doesn't concern me in the least.

A year or two ago, I was listening to a radio broadcast. The announcer asked his listeners what they considered to be the most beautiful word in the German language. My first thought was "Freiheit" (Freedom) inevitably someone rang up and suggested the word. (It really is a bit of an obvious candidate after all) the word which eventually won general consensus made me puke, it was as embarrassingly mooshy as sloppy excrement.

Freedom is one of the most perplexing, preoccupying abstracts of human existence. What is it exactly? Is it the capability to think, speak, act as one chooses? That would seem to be the most immediate, logical definition of freedom. But this definition is impossible within all social, cooperative societies, human or otherwise. Let me show you why: If freedom means the aforementioned, then paedophilia must be permissible, then beating your wife to a pulp would be perfectly within behavioural norms. As most societies regard such behaviour as anathema, then "Freedom to..." cannot be the sum total of freedom. There must also be "Freedom from..."

What does this mean? It means that children should enjoy freedom from paedophilia, women should be able to live freely in the absence of physical fear. So now comes the Paradox of Freedom: In order to have freedom, we must have laws. There is no freedom in the absence of law. If there are no laws (remember laws need not be institutionalised, there can be laws of tradition, culture and community) then society becomes predicated upon the only remaining constraint: the Law of Muscle. In other words, the Alpha dog rules, Brawn becomes the sole means to political and material success. Do you see?

So freedom is both a positive thing: the Freedom To and a negative thing: the Freedom From. But how about if we say "Well, stuff it, let the weak, the defenceless look out for themselves, (that nearly always means animals, women and children) We want TOTAL freedom to act as we please, no government, no cultural norms, I'm alright Jack, fuck you if you can't compete".

Well, what's wrong with this concept of freedom? Why should the strong be held back by laws? Why should man's behaviour be constrained in any way at all? Is there any drawback to this? (except to the defenceless targets of  inevitable violence and control)

Well, yes, there is a drawback. Let's argue that we don't care about the weak, the defenceless, the impoverished, the functionally illiterate, let's just say "What the fuck, Do What Thou Wilt, that is the Sum of the Law" this is surely, unarguably, true freedom isn't it? If I want something, and I have the muscle power to see my plans to fruition, why shouldn't I steal, rape, murder, mutilate, cheat, exploit just as I please? Why should my desires and instincts be delimited in any way? What's the ethical/philosophical argument against that and who should arrogate unto themselves the power to decide what I can and can't do?

My response is this: if Man is allowed to live by pure instinct, with no consideration for laws, then he is not truly free at all. Acting out of instinct is not an exercise of "free will". Free will involves some kind of conscious choice about our actions. There is freedom inherent in the ability to decide for oneself, ie: I choose this course of action or equally: I choose not to pursue this cause of action. If I live only by the dictates of my emotions, instincts, impulses, I am not exercising Free Will, I am no more free than the oyster that must open it's shell according to the pull and sway of tides and light. If I live only guided by instinct, than I'm simply no more than an unreasoning clockwork spring. We can choose to obey or disobey laws, the point is, we are free to choose. If we simply live by desire, we choose nothing but to become slaves to our instincts.

Freedom is, and is not, so many things, I want to go on and on and say more, but I'm conscious that this is not a world beater in terms of exciting reading (it would be for me, but that's by the by). Neither I, nor anyone else can ever define for you what Freedom, that beautiful, elusive abstract really is. And if someone ever tries to tell you, simply remind them that once something is defined, it's automatically limited, and you would prefer not to have your will to reason on the subject limited in any way by anyone, thanks all the same.

So let me finish by telling you what Freedom means to me: you've heard the word "innerlichkeit" here on this blog before, at it's most basic it means "innerness"

Tennessee Williams in his brilliant play "Orpheus Descending" wrote "We are all of us sentenced to solitary confinement within our own skins" This is nothing to be afraid of. Your inner space is completely your own, it's the place you can freely, thoughtfully and calmly ask questions of yourself and the world around you. It is uniquely yours alone. No one is you and you are no one else. You don't need some new age fucking crystal or some hocus pocus "leader in prayer" to colonise, direct or control your thoughts. You alone must answer to your conscience. Is it ok with you that the defenceless, the poor, the functionally illiterate are exploited and impoverished to benefit a wealthy few? Is it ok with you that animals are kept in extremes of pain, deprivation and extremes of misery so that human animals can live a few years longer or stave off a few wrinkles from their aging faces? 

Making the most of yourself isn't buying a better house, losing a dress size, getting letters after your name, it's using your head, it's involving your judgement, intellect and awareness of others in all of your calculations and sense of attachment to the world. Even if it means becoming detached from the things that just don't fucking matter at all: material bullshit that clutters up your mind and NEVER fulfills you for more than a few illusory moments

I've expressed something very complex crudely, imprecisely and clumsily. This is something for people a lot better informed and smarter than me to explain to you. I've done my best within my limits of time, vocabulary and intellect. My limitations are here for all to see and that doesn't bother me one bit. We all have them.

This is the last thing I want to say to you here.

Cheers and Love.



Last Call for Drinks

Hello, I am as well as can be and I'm sincerely wishing the same for all of you. This is my last post on this blog, it no longer serves me any purpose to keep it. I'm instead going to concentrate on my other blog which is attached to my other account. I'm not certain if I'm going to keep it completely private like a diary. (there are things I want to write about that I simply wouldn't tell anyone, only my therapist, and only to him when I'm completely trashed on drugs. That's no exaggeration boys 'n girls) Or (to return from this digression) I may start another one as a private diary and keep the people one as a public one. I'm not certain. As you would all know by now, takes me ages to make my mind up about things. But I'm certain of one thing, this blog is ended.

I want to thank all the people who've taken the time to make comments on my drivelling snivelling shit, that was very forbearing and kind of you.

I'm still going through the (long) process of copying and saving all posts I wish to keep, once that dull and irritating job is finished, I'm going to delete this blog.

I certainly got a lot out of this blog, but things have changed quite drastically in my life, many for better, some, unfortunately (health related) for worse, there's no longer anything I can post for public or shall we say for "Anipal" consumption that is going to be of any entertainment 'bread 'n circus' value. So it's better to just leave it here.

I'm really proud of this blog, but I suspect in general terms, it was pitched to the 'wrong' crowd. You get me? There were many who got much out of it, but irritatingly for me, the majority couldn't understand what the fuck I was saying half the time. It's not their fault, it's just that East is East and West is West, and ne'er the twain Shall Meet.

I think though, that if you were honest with yourselves, you got something out of me and this blog too, whether you liked it or me or not. Even if only the introduction to new words, and certainly an insight into a way of looking at things from an objective, not subjective viewpoint.

There's a lot of very very sweet and worthwhile things that made me extremely happy at times on "Anipal" twitter, but unfortunately, there's a lot of vomit inducing ego neediness, hypocrisy, one upmanship and sniping too. I'm so glad to be gone from it.

If anyone feels a burning need to stay in touch with me, send me a DM to SirFudgeEsq account and I can give you my new tag, I really don't mind who wants it. But you would do well to remember this: While I don't go out of my way to be crude, I don't watch a fucking thing I say; like or lump it. Your sensibilities, your children, aren't my responsibility. I don't give a fuck about them. Who you follow, what you read, is your responsibility not mine. Some people desperately need to grow up and understand this.

NB. If you're going to RT all that nipclub/party/rainbow bridge/purrs for pointlessness/ sky pram loony tunes shit, I won't follow back. I don't want to know about that garbage, maybe when I'm middle aged and have Alzheimer's or something I'll see some merit in it, but for now it's just nuthouse nonsense.

You can just send me a blank DM if you want the tag of my other acct. If for some reason we got disconnected but we got on fine and you can't DM me, you can always email me at SirFudgeEsq@Gmail.com

Cheers, and fare thee well, thanks again for the follows and comments on this blog, even some of the nasty ones, some of which the stupidity and naivety made me cringe, some of which made me MOL!!! (!) and some of it which plain scared me, in the sense of "what kind of people are these fucking nasty nutcases"

While I'm here, there's two more things I want to say. I received a message a little while ago on face book thanking me for a favour I did, but in this same message, the person called me "acerbic". I told them I accepted that was their opinion and I wasn't going to argue the point. I asked instead, "I often wonder if people think about how they appear to me?" I received no reply to this not unreasonable question. That's what "Anipal" twitter has been like for me much of the time. I've been the object of scrutiny and critique, but you can bet your arse that scrutiny has never been applied to where it desperately needed to be applied to: the journey inward.

The journey inward is always the hardest and the cruelest to make. That's why it's easier and more smugly self reassuring to criticize 'The Other'.

The other thing was about 'freedom' I'm pretty tired now so I'll ad it as an addendum later. Ok, so this is another sort of penultimate post.

I'll instead leave you with a line from a song of one of my favourite ever bands:  "are you just too fucked up to understand me, or is it the other way around, maybe it's both and I just don't know which is what? It's alright the way that you live, it's alright" Titus Andronicus: To Old Friends and New

All the Best.




My penultimate Post

Hello, I really should be asleep, I hope wherever you are, whatever you're doing, life is nice for you. It's not bad for me right now.

I've wanted to post about this subject for a long long time, what's kept me from doing it is that I realise that people have vastly different ideas on the subject and I didn't wish to appear critical of them. So try to understand, this is simply my opinion. I'm no one. I'm just one wanker among many many wankers. Who gives a flying fuck what I think? I've recently had an email from someone apologizing (for fuck's sake) for not agreeing with me, and I've had others who've said things like: "I feel bad because I use MOL or other things you don't think are that great" (that's a paraphrase but you get the idea, one hopes, it's not rocket science) Look, I'm not the King of fucking Lichtenstein, as I said here earlier, who GIVES A FUCK what I think? Why? The whole point of this blog is that it's a load of shit, drivel, I've never ever denied that.

Every time someone asks me for my blog link I always tell them: "Don't bother reading it, it's a load of crap" I just use it as a writing exercise. And yet, there's still some who get very upset, What the Fuck? I remember telling one particular weak minded twat "look, don't read it if it upsets you" fuck, it's for these kind of people that warnings like "contents are hot" on take away coffee cups exist. No, really? Are these niggahs on fucking crack? What the fuck is that?

Anyway, hopefully I've established that argument with some kind of force... can we agree now that my opinion is about as important as whether one's shit is sloppy or hard? I'm now going to move on to the reason for my post.

A reminder for the feeble minded, I'm going to repeat: this is Just My Fucking Opinion. Not a Criticism of Anyone Who Acts Otherwise.

Ok: I believe that cats 'n dogs (and other animals we share our homes with) should be encouraged to live their lives as close to the way they would in nature as possible. I believe that this makes for a psychologically and physically healthier animal. 

Cats need to feel the dirt and grass under their paws and the sun on their backs. Cats (and this goes for all predatory obligate carnivores) are the most truly alive when they are hunting, feeling and smelling the warmth of the blood of prey between their claws. It's what their claws, instincts and bodies were made for. Thousands upon thousands of years have gone into the design of these immaculate killing machines. In nature, the culling process keeps the numbers of prey and predator at a sustainable level. By domesticating cats, they produce more kittens that will survive (all of them happily one hopes) and this is of course an interference with the natural cycle of life and death animals would experience left to their own devices and own environments.

Nature is an entity that expresses extremes of beauty (always subjective anyhow) and "cruelty" (also subjective). Not for nothing was the phrase "nature, bloody in tooth and claw" coined by someone or other, I can find out the author for you, or you can probably just google it.

It was only from the late 18th century onwards that Romantic poets, writers and visual artists began to wax lyrical about 'pastoral beauty' and the heavenly bliss of nature. Before things like "enclosure laws" and urbanization (I'm trying not to get too academic and dull here), most people understood very clearly what nature was actually like, they lived by the seasons, understood their animals (within their own worldviews which were vastly different in many ways to ours, God I'm trying really hard not to digress into historical by ways and alleys) in ways which were perhaps more realistic than our own.

This closeness to nature had it's advantages, people (I'm talking about the pre 18th century Western world, although it wouldn't be much different I wouldn't imagine to some Eastern societies) shared their homes with pigs, chickens, dogs, cats all wondering in and out as they pleased. There was barely any sewerage system, who do you think ate the shit and kept and the places clean and livable? Your pet / future dinner porky pig and scavenging pups took care of that, while cats kept animals considered "vermin" within reasonable limits.

By the way, in the midst of all this with no privacy (most homes were very very simple indeedm mostly 2 room affairs) where did people fuck you might wonder? Well, as one academic suggested, they copulated out doors to get some privacy. You should know that in Europe, nudity is no big deal. It's probably a cultural and genetic memory of centuries long of fucking out doors. In the West, it's only in the English speaking nations that nudity is so highly stigmatized and sexualised. Frankly, I'm happier for people to wear clothes especially now that obesity is epidemic, but really when you think about it, we're the only animal out of all animals that runs around with fig leaves....makes us look kind of weird when you think about it.

I understand that there are those with very very good reason to keep their cats confined, in America for example, there's coyotes and other things. I am aware that there are for some, solid reasons to keep their cats indoors. My suggestion would be, rig up some kind of outdoor room. I did this in my last home it was inexpensive and looked great.Again, I truly understand that this is not possible for everyone. I'm not trying to suggest if you don't do this, you're a bad keeper of animals.

Feeding: again, try to keep it as natural as possible. Our basenji, who has been fed raw bones and high quality food from since he was an 8 week old pup, has at 11 years of age, teeth like little pearls. Our greyhound, who is an ex racer, is two years younger than Sam and from the very first day she came to us, her teeth were disgusting. Believe me, try to feed your fellow animals the freshest, rawest, most natural stuff you can find. There are two books called "The Heart of the Matter" and "Smarter than You Think" by Paul Loeb and Suzanne Hlavacek,  these are the best books about the care of dogs (and cats) I've ever read. And before I got my basenji, I read every fucking thing ever written about dogs, I have shelves full of "How to Bring up Pup Right" most of it garbage. These were pure common sense, I wish everyone with cats and dogs (or any other animal really) has a chance to read them, you can get them on Amazon.

NB: there is another book called "Dogs Never Lie About Love" the title is a little mooshy but it's an empathetic study of dogs and well worth reading. My copy is falling apart. There are some parts (only very few) I think are rubbish, but on the whole, it's worth reading. Also an old classic about dogs is by the Austrian Konrad Lorenz, "King Solomon's Ring", it's widely available in English and a brilliant read.

Back to Indoor kept Cats: Again, I understand that this is not possible for everyone and that by keeping your cats indoors, you are doing the very best thing for them, I respect that kind of care completely. I'm simply expressing my belief that cats are happiest when allowed to live as cats. This seems to be more vital to some cat breeds than others, I concede that point entirely.

This brings me to the other subject I've been meaning to post about and as this is my penultimate post, the time to do it is now.

What are Oriental Cats like? They're the best. We've lived with cats of all kinds, persian, birmans, moggies, all kinds. Our stand out favourites are Orientals. Unfortunately, they're one of the most misunderstood cat breeds. So in brief point form, let me correct the stupidest misconceptions about these cats:

1. Oriental Cats are "spiteful" I couldn't believe this heap of shit when I'd heard it. Orientals, (including Siamese) really really want to be with you. They are best described as cats with strong wills and extremely high intelligence, also, they seem to retain a lot of their ancestral wild behaviour. Many people don't seem to want their animals to show any independence, preferring instead to turn them into cuddlesome "touch me bears" perhaps that's why statistically "fluffy cats" are favoured.

2. Orientals aren't affectionate Oh God, would that were true! Trust me on this, where you are is where your siamese/oriental wants to be. It's like they're made of Velcro and ours at any rate, will bash each other with their paws to claim the spot next to our person, who unfortunately for her, has ended up on the floor in the middle of the night due to cats colonising every inch as close to her as possible, she makes a bit of room to get comfortable, and eventually runs out of bed and "plop" winds up on the floor. It happens often.

3.Orientals are neurotic no, no, no, these are cats that simply do things to the nth degree, they do NOTHING by halves, when they're hungry, they eat like swine, when they want your company, there's no getting away from them, when they hate a dog they act like they're taking on the whole world and taking No Prisoners. However, one thing is true, like most highly intelligent people, they are very sensitive, they are very aware of their surrounding and atmosphere. This means that they suffer badly in shelters and chaotic homes. Don't get one of these cats unless you can provide a quiet, stable home. Our latest addition, The Anti Fudge nearly died in the shelter, he simply stopped eating and began to froth at the mouth, he was put on a drip to keep him alive and x rayed in case he was harbouring some kind of obstruction preventing the ingestion of food. There was none, it was purely psychological. He simply couldn't cope. He's fine now, he eats like a swine and has morphed from skin and bones to a magnificent, muscly, sturdy (within his English Havana body type) specimen I wouldn't want to fuck with. Just for the record, I'm much 'softer' in temperament then him. He likes to bash everyone.

Orientals look mean They are the most beautiful cats of all. Their upward slanting eyes and lean muscular bodies are amazing. Did you know that orientals have often been described as the "iron fist in the velvet glove"? That is how their bodies feel. Their fur is unbelievably soft and their bodies without an ounce of fat, when they do get fat, it tends to go only to their undercarriage.
True "pure siamese" (our brother and sister siams are pure siamese) are not skinny at all, they are in fact very heavy bodied. Our siamese male is a huge mother fucker of a cat. The ultra skinny siams you see are not true siams, they are 'colour point orientals', that is, they are the offspring of oriental parents who have some siamese in their back ground. It's hard to get "pure siamese" but I believe there is a growing disgust with producing cats so thin that they have trouble giving birth that there is a revival of the pure siam breed. What's the point of an ultra thin cat anyway? (It's my belief that people who say oriental cats look 'mean' are expressing latent racism)

Havanas are Oriental, but Havanas can only be brown: Well this is the final thing I want to say. I'm the only Havana cat on twitter for now, so you may as well take the chance to learn something about us while I'm still here:

1. We are very rare cats. This is because brown in orientals is the hardest colour to breed for.
2. We come in two distinct body types: the American Havana which is much denser bodied, more like an average cat and the English type Havana (the original) which is much more Oriental in body type. We English Havanas are not however, "slight" cats, within our build we are very strong and muscly. But generally, in other ways, we conform to the oriental template: huge ears, long legs, slanted eyes, and long noses. Our tails aren't thin though, there still is quite a difference between us and other orientals, that's why we have our own name "Havanas" rather than just brown orientals.

We are, I'm sorry to brag, the most beautiful of all cats. Until you've seen an English type Havana, you can't even imagine how stunning we are. Our emerald green eyes, chocolate ganache fur, incredibly handsome faces and freakish intelligence make us the Gods of All Cats.

All I can say is, I'm glad I'm me, and not you ;)

Cheers and Love (I'm certain it's requited)

from your ever lovin' Mother Fucker.



Pissing the Night Away... Pissing the Night Away...

Hey you know something, after I hit a low low ( the last post says it all) I felt heaps better. It's cathartic to get shit like that out of your system. I think I may be back in business. Bet you're overjoyed to hear it.

Cheers x


PS: on very personal posts, I tend to disable comments, the reason being, I feel kind of self indulgent, like "Please someone, say something nice" I'm not like that, I really just post those things to get them out of my system and it works a treat. I know y'all love me...Right?


Nothing to say and no way of saying it

Hello, I hope you are all well, I am, but I'm also quite tired.

In the last month, I've experienced the death of two family members, a big move, withdrawal from heroin, and now it's finally making me crash. I'm just tired. I need to sleep for maybe 10,000 years and I'll be fine again. See you later or not, as the case may be. I'm too tired to make sense.

. I finally have my account about right. I did what I should have done a long time ago: had one for people of all kinds and one for people tweeting behind animal avatars. Unfortunately, I lost a few animal avatar people in the shuffle, please understand it wasn't a trimming of you so much as housekeeping and moving people around that made me lose you in the ether of cyberspace. I'm so sorry that this happened to anyone nice, the rest ah well, sometimes even I experience the thrill of a happy coincidence.

I'm also going to move over more 'serious' posts from this blog to my 'people' account blog and blog animal stuff here. Thanks to everyone who's been patient with me.

On the whole though, I'm pretty much gone from my Sir Fudge Esq account, although I do like to check in and reply to tweets sent to me. After I've had my centuries long sleep, I'll probably concentrate more on my people blog, which won't be so different to this one, but probably a bit "freer" and definitely broader in subject matter as it's potential audience is broader in it's interests. 

Animal twitter used to be a lot of fun when it was just people logging on and chatting about all kinds of things, now with newspapers, anipal awards (WTF?) death cults, morticians,  it's beginning to resemble an insane asylum.

With all respect, @FrugalDougal was the only one who could really run a pawparty with any sense of dignity, style, fun and purpose. The rest is just pathetic creepy looney tunes.

I still have emails to answer I'll get around to them as soon as I've slept. I'm in that horrible limbo state between being so tired and feeling too wired to sleep or say anything sensible.

Take care, Have yourself a good time, it's nothing at all....nothing at all.... (Radiohead)



In Your Heart of Hearts....

So called "Ghetto Wedding"

WASP Wedding

While I was mooching around on my "people account" I happened to take an interest in the trending topic #ataghettowedding. Many put their two pence in, and I'm ashamed to say, so did I. I regretted it almost immediately. Stereotyping, stigmatizing, and ridiculing people because of (presumptions) about of their disadvantaged social background has to the be the basest, most disgusting humour conceivably possible.

American ghetto culture fascinates me, both in terms of it as a "subculture" and it's evolution as a socio political grouping of people. But the purpose of this post wasn't to bore you with my vulgar curiosity or parade my ignorance before you.

During my pursuance of this trending topic, I came across the first picture in this post. Several tweeps posted it in their twitpics: it was meant to objectify the people in the photo as low class ghetto trash for the amusement of other tweeps.

My first reaction was, I felt immediately attracted to the wedding depicted, everything about it: it's simplicity, it's humour, it's humanness, warmth and lack of pretension. It made a deep impression. It was a photo that made me wish I could know the people depicted.  I felt doubly ashamed about the deadshit, crass and stupid tweet I posted for this trending topic.

I have my own prejudices, they are as stupid, unattractive and destructive as any other. Well, this is what my prejudices look like: The couple in the 2nd WASP wedding  photo (WASP is an acronym for White Anglo Saxon Protestant, it's generally, but not always, used in a pejorative sense) make me want to run a mile. There's something self consciously stagey and boorish about them that subverts the"elegance" intended. the couple in the first photo seem natural, at ease and sincere. Compared to them, let's be honest, the WASPS look like well, vacuous wankers. They're the kind of people I cross the street to avoid. Their "hale fellow well met" (and well fed) appearance revolts me; it affirms and suggests a kind of life style I find empty and nauseating.

You know why Kurt Cobain is my hero? (Apart from the fact he could shoot himself up in both arms, I never could get the hang of that) because he once told a friend that he was embarrassed to be in a limousine. He was clear sighted and courageous enough (sadly, but the good ones always are) to see that life is, in the main, empty and without meaning. It takes courage, self knowledge and humility to come to this realization. He was never fooled by bullshit, vainglory or materialism. He was never trapped inside the empty "Sparklicious" bubble of nothing.

If I ever make it to America, I'm going to the bridge in Seattle he used sometimes to live and sleep under, it's only symbolic, it's not a shrine, it's nothing but a place. But it's the only way I can say "thank you" to a man who made the world less farcical to me.

The tragedy of Kurt Cobain is that he so acutely felt the dissonance and tension of external, meaningless, material trappings with meaningful, emotional reality, that he was unable to reconcile them into some kind of world view he could live with. As far as I'm concerned, he failed at nothing, they are irreconcilable. His heroism lies in the fact he knew this. He refused the Faustian pact, he refused to compromise. 

Would there were more like him.

Life is not just a McHappyLand for us to walk through like infantalized Zombies. It's exhausting to be sensitively responsive to life, it can burn a person out, but it's better to live this way than to have no greater awareness t than an amoeba. It's more honourable to die young and to live on your own terms than to be sucked into the race for longevity filled with "stuff". 

Anyway, to return to the beginning: I'd rather be a guest at a ghetto wedding any day, than kiss WASP ass and loathe myself ever after.


May We Always Have the Freedom and Courage to Choose To Live Meaningful Lives

Love to All



· Boring as Batshit

The thing that's happened to animal twitter is that it's become as boring as batshit. Too many dull people trying to get  attention for themselves with bloody "nipclubs" "newspapers" "pawcircles" and one lame arsed harebrained party after another, they spam up the fucking page and make the main timeline a nauseating trip into "look at me everybody!" land. What this all means is, witty convesations are becoming a rarity. Dickhead "anipal awards" mean fuck all. It's just become so fucking stupid, I tried to get rid of everyone who retweets boring shit like that off my account It used to be fun, when paw parties actually caused excitement, now with fuckwit parties every 5 seconds, it's just shit.

I remember when it was actually fun, when attention seeking boring shit got ignored, now it's just turned into shitsville.
PS: I'm not the only one who thinks like this, people on facebook are saying the same the same thing: Animal twitter has gotten dull.


Here it comes again....

Hello, I hope this post finds you in good physical and psychological nick. If you can't have both, then I hope you at least have one. If, to your great misfortune you find you have neither, don't worry too much about it. It's all a matter of degree anyway. As sane or as barking mad as you may be, there's always someone saner or more of a sick twist than you are. The same goes for physical health. So don't let the absence of a sound mind or body worry you unduly. There's always someone worse off. If schadenfreude is your only comfort in life, make the most of it, others are doing the same to you, I guarantee it.

Upon re reading the above paragraph, my first reaction is: My God I'm a misanthropic bastard. Not to worry, we can't all be made of sugar and spice, for if we were, who then would do the thinking? Bits of cake never solved any of the world's problems, in spite of Marie Antoinette's naive optimism. And look what happened to her anyway? So look, just be grateful for dour pricks like me and we can leave the matter there. I don't wish to pursue this ridiculous nonsense any further, it's making me look like an idiot.

Well, the time has come to say goodbye (again...) to an old friend. I have to lock myself in my bathroom with blankets, rosary beads, Valium, ipod, water, pills and phone. My dear cousin (who unfortunately for him has no experience in these matters) is coming over to take care of things while I attempt (again) to get clean.

I actually have no contacts in this part of the world, so I have no choice but see the thing out. You know the most fascinating thing about it is, the extraordinary amount of vomitus the body can produce.It amazed me last time, and kind of disgusted me. Ah well, if you can't do the time don't the etc etc...

Once this is over, I'm never touching it again. No matter how bored and pissed off I get, I'll find a gentler hobby, like beating up old ladies. Or something respectable I can brag about at dinner parties: like cheating on taxes or something else of that nature which bourgeois twats find ever so clever and grand. Groan, that's the world waiting for me once I stop shooting up. Gee I can't wait.

I'm sorry to whine. I got myself into this mess, I have no one to blame but myself. Wish me luck. See you after.



I'm Here, and now I'm Gone

Well, I arrived. Yay. And the trip? To put the kindest complexion on it: I don't travel well. I'm conservative by nature, once I've settled, I like to stay settled. Change, uncertainty, transience, it all terrifies me. I don't even like to be in places where transience is a part of their function, such as hospitals, airports, train stations and the like. They all depress me horribly. I'm acutely oversensitive to mood and atmosphere and it exhausts me. Even seeing a person with travelling bags makes me feel sad and anxious for their welfare. I'm just a hypersensitive nutjob, I'm quite aware of this, so don't feel guilty if that's what you're thinking.

Our new digs are old, it's an old, old remote and rambling country house. my ancestors have been born here and they've died here, and I'm pleased to be where I belong: a part of the emotional and genetic ancestral chain.

Well, so I'm here, the next thing to do is to bathroom rehab. What a fucking nightmare that's going to be. It has to be done though, I have lives that depend on me so I have to get on with things. This time, after I withdraw, if I find that I can't stop the cravings, I'm going to have to take meth whether I like it or not. Doesn't work for everyone though. Fucking fucks me off more than I can say. If I didn't have others to care for, I'd just shoot up day and night. Someone sent me an email once calling me "junky shit", it made me laugh, only someone who doesn't know what it's like would say a thing like that.

Well, I guess I'm left with the last thing I wanted to say, and it's this: Goodbye. I knew I wouldn't be back to Anipal Land after I moved. There's lots of reasons for this, none of them nasty, I just need and want to move on. I'll still be on face book because I quite like wondering around saying hi without getting into conversations I'm too tired for.

I have another account I just use for people and I'll be there more. Anipalia is too much of a "community" for me. I don't want to be a part of anything. It's just in my nature to be like that. I said here once before, I don't have a sense of "kiddie fun" and I just don't belong. To put it brutally: I'm too cerebral and too "no nonsense" to be of any use to anyone here. So I'll just stick to my other account and keep this blog cos I like it, but I'll probably start another one anyway just for political, social and musical stuff.

The last time I left, I wanted to stay gone, it was only because of a particular friend who got pretty bullish about me staying that I stayed. I really didn't want to come back, neither would many of you if you had your private details spread about on cyber space via dm, timeline and blogs for all to see. The location details posted about me were actually those of my relatives, I felt like guilty shit because my relatives became involved in this horrible mess. Can you understand what that felt like?  Their location information for all to see, strangers, freakhows, anyone at all..

I think the lie that I "laughed at dead and dying animals" hurt me the most. I no longer trust anyone in cyber space because of what happened. Finally, the nasty insinuation by a particularly mean little miss that my illness was a fabrication, for reasons I can't really put into rational words, shocked me to the core, and scared me. Believe me, I didn't want to come back.

To the very small minority I dislike intensely, and who have spread lies and malicious gossip about me, I have this to say: you're dumb, dull, boring, and stupid with it. You make me cringe in embarrassment with your childish attention seeking antics and lies. You're an embarrassment to every sane person here.

To the vast majority I like more than I really know how to put into words: I love you all very much.You're truly good natured, sweet and have been very tolerant of me. Thanks from the bottom of my heart for your friendship.

Take care.


Give Me Your Poor, Your Hungry Your Detritus etc etc

Hello, I hope you are all doing quite well, if you're not doing all that well, I'm sorry to hear this. It's no fun being ill. But you know, the Gods sport with us as though we were flies or something or other.

I was thinking what I could post that would be some kind of circuit breaker to the "heavy" posts distinctly lacking any entertainment value, and I thought "Eureka!"(no I didn't, I thought, what the fuck am I going to write that isn't going to be shot through with impending moving and bathroom rehab angst? Fucking WHAT??)

And then I thought I know! I know! I'll write about some of the menagerie of cats and dogs of all descriptions we've fostered. It's been a wild ride I can tell you. 

The first guests in our Convalescence Home for Cats 'n Dogs were cats, tiny waif like cats. Sick, injured, starving, hard up poor little cats. The thing is, once you start with a few waifs, word seems to get around, (somehow) and soon all kinds of cats turned up on our doorstep: the dumped, the dumpy, the starving, the obvious carpet bagger opportunists, you know, the "I live a few doors down the road, I heard I can mooch a meal off you guys?" type cats.

These are the "junkies" of the cat world. Their food addiction drives them from house to house, bellies swaying, looking for some new sucker to mooch off. Yeah yeah, like I don't know what the go is with you friggin' sponges.  I knew these cats very well, they had collars and always came around to hang out with our own cats - till they heard the dinner gong from their own homes, and before we could shut the door and say "thank Christ that fat bastard's gone", they'd be back, sitting on our lounge looking for action. There was no beating these cats. You just let 'em in. It was the easiest thing to do.

It was in this period that we experienced the only death of one of our orphans. A tortoiseshell kitten, no bigger than a teaspoon, her poor little body was wracked with illness and her tiny lungs wheezed like a whistle with almost every breath she took.  In spite of our hourly  medicinal ministrations, this little girl (whom we called Raisin on account of her tiny size) died several days later at the vet. He was never confident she was going to make it anyhow. It was sad in a way that's hard to describe. It's hard not think about the kind of life she could have had. She was beyond pretty and like all kittens, sweet as a spoonful of honey. Poor girl.

There was the inevitable parade of mothers with kittens, I remember one gorgeous family I tactfully as possible 'removed' from someone ("X") I worked with who had no fucking idea about the care of anything, except for herself. The cat was obviously in pain, horribly underweight as were her tiny weeks old kittens. I got the uncaring fuck as drunk as a skunk and absconded with her cat family into the night. I remember when X first told me about them, apparently, the mother, too weak to use her customary toilet outside, performed her ablutions on the floor beside the box, the kindly Ms X concluded the story with the words: "I kicked her arse from here to Christmas" That's the merciful human ape for you. After finding that this nasty twat's weakness was gin, my plan was hatched, executed. Done.

Anyway, all's well that ends well, the mother it turned out was suffering from mastitis and some kind of uterine infection which responded well to antibiotics, peace, and the prescribed pasta and chicken diet. Her kittens grew to be fat little meatballs who oddly enough, would follow us around in a straight line like a family of ducks. As they could never organize themselves into a regular,  sequential line of kittens, we didn't bother naming them, if they were going to be that unhelpful, they had to take their own chances. If they ended up with embarrassing names from their future homes, they had only themselves to blame.

We then moved, and then came the Dogs. In some ways, homeless dogs are somehow a more pathetic sight than cats. Cats adore good homes as much as dogs, but dogs really need to belong to something. There's no sadder sight than a dog without a group to call his own. That look of forlorn hope in their eyes when you go past their pens in shelters is awful. All you want to say to each and every one is  "Look here son, pack your miserable belongings together and you'll be on our couch in a matter of minutes" Sadly, even we can't be that open handed. We had cats, jobs, uni and God knows what else to contend with.

Well, after an assortment of dogs of all shapes and weird sizes, all of whom we loved, (the little shrill ones, we maybe loved not so much, but liked well enough), then came the Radiohead of Dogs: the Greyhound. By this time we had our own grey, she was the English Greyhound referred to in an earlier post. More of a dream than a dog, for us, the most perfect animal that ever walked the earth, besides other greyhounds and Havana cats (well what do you THINK I'm going to fucking say?)

All of our greyhound guests were loved, doted on, and fed like Queens, (they all had to be female on account of our other dog, a male basenji who would not tolerate any other fellow on the premises). One of these dogs Sunshine, stood out for many reasons, not the least she morphed from a cringing, frightened animal too scared to move (she would urinate and defecate where she stood and shake in fear) to a dog that oozed love and happiness from every pore. It didn't take long for her to "unwind". Our person is one of those that for some reason, animals even the most frightened, instinctively and immediately become calm and trustful with.

It was after her second breakfast with us, that she came and stuck her head in our seated person's chest and just stood there for hours, not moving. After that, she was calmly walked around the garden, chatted to encouragingly while she did her first shit and piss in the proper place for these things, and that was that. The awful terror had left her, and she was happy to continue relieving herself in the right place. There's nearly nothing that can't be achieved with a frightened animal with unconditional patience and calm, sympathetic common sense. Love ain't enough, you have to use your head too.

She stayed with us for many months, sleeping in our beds, standing up at the kitchen counter while her meals were being prepared with her silly greyhound smile and Schnüffel Nase (Sniffer nose in English I guess) busy at work. Sniff Sniff, tall as anything, when gently reminded she was uh, a little in the way,  she'd give a little excited, placating greyhound push with her nose, while her tail wagged like a hippo's. What can you do? We worked around her. 

Mind you, she had her moments, she became a little excited with one our cats, Thomas, who, sank his teeth into our person's hand, which swelled up to the size of a grapefruit. As an encore, she swallowed our favourite fish. After everything we did for her, how's that for fuckin' gratitude.

The time came when Sunshine went on to her new home. If we could have kept her, we would have. She's the foster we loved dearly. Anyway, we bought her her own backpack and filled it with everything she loved. Big meaty bones, cheese, dates, vanilla cake (yeah I know I know, but if you could have seen how much she doted on it)  her favourite blanket, home baked dog biscuits, her own brush set,  a list of things that made her happy and our phone number and address with the following words: "We love this dog very much. If you find she is not the dog for you for any reason at all, please bring her back or ask us to come and get her. It's no problem"

Well, why didn't we keep her? Illness had set in (Mono which was just the start of a whole raft of nastier things to come) it just didn't stop, in the end, it was job enough to keep our own tribe of animals cared for. Also, Sunshine was becoming a little competitive with our own grey, under normal circumstances, this is something easily dealt with, but as I said, Mono and then worse, and it got worse before it got a lot worse.

We really miss the mad parade. It was the funnest thing, I think, if you're going to foster, go the whole hog, waking up to an assortment of animal misfits and outcasts all waiting for you to make their lives happy is very engaging. We didn't want anything back from them, we just wanted to see them develop a sense of self worth and confidence to take on the world. We saw them as independent "people" who needed a place to get their shit together, they weren't child substitutes, ego props, or sad orphans for us, just non human people who needed a to refuge from the world for a time before they continued on their way. We loved them all so much.

PS: I don't want to romanticise this too much, the unpleasant fact is, if you're going to take on the very ill, the most frightened , the most emotionally "shut down" you need to be prepared to clean up a lot of shit and piss, you need to spend a lot of "quiet time" with just you and them and you have to be prepared to do alot of round the clock nursing, that can include preparing extra made to order meals as well. 

You have to be able to understand how to prioritise and be willing to put their needs first and keep a quiet house. But this doesn't happen all the time, it's only for those that are extremely ill and frightened. Most won't need this much attention.

Life is only meaningful if you can ease the suffering of others, everything, and I mean everything else, is just details: worthless egotistical junk.



I just finished watching this movie. The robberies by the heroin addicts are more honest and easier to stomach than the institutionalised, state sanctioned, socially condoned robberies,  such as the deliberate manipulation and inflation of real estate prices to exploit and profit from the human need for shelter.

In the final scene, the central protagonist lists the ways in which he intends to conform to society, he at once becomes loathesome for  pursuing a life he knows to be empty and exploitative and at the same time he is pitiful, because finally, his rebellion is exhausted. There are no other options available to him: Conform or self destruct. He "chooses life" but he well knows the life he is choosing is morally and intellectually sterile. His rebellion is over. He surrenders. He is ready to become a social neuter, just another unthinking cynical  cunt without a conscience.

Groucho Marx once said something like: "I refuse to belong to any club that will have me as a member" (I'm certain that's a paraphrase, but the meaning is preserved) Wise words.


You Should Know By Now...

...I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks of me. One benefit of having an illness at a young age that will sooner or later kill you, is that depending on your psychological state, it can liberate you from all the stupid, pointless conventions that chain our thoughts and feelings.

I really used to keep my mouth shut and take anything and everything that was dished out me. I rarely spoke a word to anyone. I didn't care what happened to me, or how people treated me. I just kept my mouth shut and tried to become as inconspicuous as possible, now I just piss it right back. Why not? time is of the essence, why should I put up with anything I don't like? I can't think of any reason at all.

Not that I'm garrulous now with everyone, but in terms of the consequences of expressing my thoughts or feelings, I no longer give a shit. You don't like 'em? Fuck off. Simple.

So, here's what I think about Animal Welfare. I've been called an extremist by many a "livestock" farmer (how can a living sentient being be considered as "stock"? the term disgusts me), greyhound "trainer", abattoir owner, researchers using animals, dressage riders, horse racing industry people and all scum of the earth of that nature. How I hate them. Filthy exploiting pieces of shit.

I remember one "debate" I had with someone who was defending the use of greyhounds in racing. He called me an "extremist" (always the last resort of of the intellectually bankrupt) I replied, "Oh, I'm the extremist? I'm not the one the killing these poor dogs by the hundreds of thousands every year, I'm not the one forcing them onto tracks where they can have their legs severed (oh it happens) I'd actually consider that pretty extreme behaviour"

1. Dressage should be banned. Horses are designed by nature for running, trotting, standing. Not fucking prancing, high jumping, their backs are simply not designed for this. As far as I'm concerned, every prancing piece of crap sitting on a horse should be shot without mercy, just as the thousands of horses that break legs and spirits each year in service of this egotistical garbage are put down or passed on to knackers without a second thought. If it's good enough for the horse, it's good enough for the piece of the crap sitting on it.

2. Horses in police work. Horses are a prey animal, that means instinctively, they are programmed for flight and nervousness, it's this nerviness that keeps them constantly alert for predators and gives them a chance to escape. You see the same kinds of behaviour in deer, zebras, mice and other prey animals. Putting an animal like this in confronting, often violent situations is just pure psychological torture..

3. Animals raised for fur and meat. Insane cruelty. Especially in this age of  good old capitalist economic "rationalism" that's lead to the nightmare of factory farms. Well, what to feed our obligate carnivores (cats) and omnivores (dogs) that we keep as friends around the house?  Here's one solution: When people pop off, cut the tumorous bits out of  'em, grind 'em up and put em into cat and dog food cans. I see nothing disgusting about this. I'd be honoured to be put back in the food chain. It's more dignified than mouldering away in the dark dank and claustrophobic soil. I'd rather be put back in the mammalian food chain than be nibbled to bits by fucking earthworms for fucks sake. Where's the dignity in that??

 4. Dairy. I used to think that Dairying was a benign form of farming. It ain't. Not in these days of mass conglomerate economically "rationalized" farms.  It's nasty and cruel. I no longer consume any dairy.

5. There's a lot of griping about Asian treatment of animals. One thing to remember, is that the West, especially the English speaking West, is the consummate propagandist. It knows how to hide the ugly truth. Have you ever read about what happens to animals in Western military research and development? Ever really taken a look at footage at what happens to animals in Western cosmetic, medical, food technology and legal recreational drug (tobacco and alcohol) research clinics? Ever wondered what goes on in Western abattoirs? Over the next few days I'm going to post links so you can take a look for yourself.

Like it or not, Northern Europe has some of the most progressive laws in defence of animals. And, like it or not, under the NAZIS, laws regarding the welfare of animals were both strengthened (greatly) and enforced.  Sadly, there are stories of German soldiers shooting dogs belonging to Jews. There is garbage everywhere, although, as a friend of mine here who has lived some time in Germany said, "You know, come to think of it, I never saw an abused animal in Germany". Of course it happens, but in terms of scale and comparison, we Krauts take care of our animals.

6. Horse racing. Yeaeahh, those poor animals enjoy getting the shit flogged out them as they (like greyhounds) are literally running for their lives on the track. What this actually means is, if they have no success rate, they're dead.

7. Horses: In Australia, in that barbaric Frankenstein nation established upon the rivers of blood of the original custodians of the land, they have a thing called "Jumps Racing" it's distressing and nearly every :"race" ends up with the death of at least one horse. This is a country with notoriously poor animal welfare laws, and by the way, has one of the highest rates of domestic violence and child abuse.

I could go on. And on. Sadly.

Is there an ethical metre by which to gauge the proper treatment of animals? Well, for me, there's a few guides:

1. Consent. This is my guide for human and non human animals. If I don't have consent voluntarily given by the other party, I'm going to presume that I have no right to do intrude upon their person in any way. 

 Is it possible to know whether an animal consents to something? Yes, it is, if the animal is in psychological or physical pain, if the animal is frightened, wary, kept in unnatural conditions not conducive to it's mental or physical well being, you can be pretty certain, you don't have it's consent for what you are doing to it.

If you need to overlook consent for the animal's own individual welfare, (taking it for medical treatment etc in spite of it's own misgivings for example) then that's simply what has to be done.

2. Pantheism God is in Everything, Everything is God. I'll post a blog about this explaining another day. Pantheism in the West has strong roots in German mysticism which began with the Medieval Rhineland mystics. It was Jakob Böhme (a fascinating genius and a religio/philosophical hero to me) who in the 17th C (1600s) understood the Cosmos as "Alles in Allem" (Everything in Everything) His religious philosophy was beyond incredible. I'll tell you his story next time.

There's so much more I want to add about the status of Animal Rights Groups considered "extremist". I'm going to say something now which I think will make me even more enemies, well, y'all pretty much know how I'm going to respond to that...

After the September 11 plane hijackings in America, which killed I think just over 2,500 people? I dunno, the figure keeps getting quietly revised downwards, many Western nations took the opportunity to revise and tighten up their so called :"anti terror laws". These, under the guise on 'non discrimmination', were stretched to cover nearly every group considered 'extremist'. In England, especially, though not exclusively, this included tightening the screws on animal welfare activist groups. In other words, the freedom to protest cruelty toward animals and act in defence of them was even more restricted. Popular Power: 0 Government Power: 1.

All this, because a few thousand Americans are killed in retaliation for the hundreds of thousands of Palestinian men, women and children exploited, dispossessed, corralled into refugee camps and killed every year by Israelis who perpetuate this holocaust by weaponry that says: "Made in America".

I remember how people moaned and groaned about "oh, how the world has changed post September 11" Well, let me conclude by saying this: 

If the world ever had cause to change, it's because of the ongoing oppression of and violence against millions of  voiceless and defenceless animals and people, not the murder of a few thousand of the privileged. 

1. Battery hen
2. Dead Palestinians
3. Battery hens
4. Palestinian refugee camp.


I'm the world's worst salesman, I know... I'm doing my best...

Well, it's back to greyhounds. Apart from the welfare issues associated with these amazing dogs, they simply fascinate me in a way no other breed does, except for maybe the spitz breeds. I'm going to enlighten you about the history of these truly astonishing dogs, if you become as enraptured by them as much as I am, well and good;  if not, I've enjoyed writing about a subject I could bang on about all day.

I'm going to try to be much more concise and tight than my last post which was really sloppy and awful. I was ill again. I still feel drained, but not so bad. Ok, Let's go:

1. The greyhound type dog is the world's oldest purpose bred dog. There's nothing extraordinary about this: they are after all a hound ie: a hunting dog. Early Mankind lived by hunting and gathering. Crop raising came later and reshaped human society in profound ways.

2. The hound group of dogs is very different to other types of more "down home" dogs. If you get a hound, don't think you're getting a garden variety dog. All breeds have their differences, but hounds are exeptionally different (and exeptionally fascinating) in striking ways

3. The first remains of Greyhound type dogs, found in Catal-Hayuk (now south-west Turkey) date to 6000 BC. Greyhounds walked the earth in the times before monotheism was conceived of. Think about that. These are dogs who profoundly share our history and struggles in a way no designer poochie poo can ever claim to. It's awesome.(Remember, we are talking just over 8000 years of shared history, it's fucking mind blowing)

4. A funerary vase dating from 4000 BC decorated with greyhounds has been found in what is now Iran. Craftsmanship was not the mass produced crap of today, it took extraordinary talent, patience and hours of practice. If your image made it onto pottery, you were something special. This is how greyhounds used to be regarded.

5. Ancient Egypt, like cats, greyhounds were practically worshipped. Tutankhamen, Amenhotep II, Thutmose III and Queen Hatsheput kept greys. Cleopatra loved them too.

6. They are the ONLY breed of dog mentioned in the bible: The citation is: Proverbs 30: 29-31:
"There be three things which go well, yea,
Which are comely in going:
A lion, which is the strongest among beasts
and turneth not away from any;
A greyhound;
A he goat also."

Considering the ancient Israelites didn't particularly think much of dogs, this is something quite incredible.

7. Ancient Greece: When the Greeks first met greyhounds in Egypt, being the highly intelligent people they were, they knew a good thing when they saw it, they brought these precious dogs back with them. Alexander the Great had a Greyhound, he called him Peritas.

7A. Greyhounds are the first dog mentioned in literature: The grey's name was Argus, he was the faithful dog of Odysseus in Homer's The Odyssey. It's a fantastic story, worthy of this stunning dog's debut in  literature.

7B. Greek Mythology: Hecate, Goddess of wealth, Pollux, protector of The Hunt and Artemis all had greyhounds.

8. Rome; The Romans, who were a practical people (they invented concrete) pretty much appropriated anything of cultural value from the Greeks, so of course, the greyhound made his debut in Roman hearts and minds as well. Their Gods and Goddesses had greyhounds, best known of these were Diana and Procris.

9. Medieval and Renaissance Ages: Clergymen saved the greyhound from near extinction during these times punctuated by regular outbreaks of plague. As the Church was closely related to Monarchy, the love of greyhounds filtered through to Royalty of this period. Only Royalty could own a greyhound. In 1016, King Canute passed a law prohibiting any "meane person" (meane denoting "low born") from having a greyhound.
In the early 10th century (900s) the Welsh King Howell decreed that killing a greyhound attracted the same punishment as killing a man, that is: death. (where oh where is King Howell when we need him now?)

9A. Greyhounds were the first dog written about in the English language: it was Chaucer in the late 14thc (late 1300s) who wrote in "The Canterbury Tales" : 

"Greyhounds he hadde as swift as fowels in flight"

Shakespeare, getting in on the act wrote in Henry V (a great play by the way) :

"I see you stand like Greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot"

An exceptionally sweet medieval adage is: "A greyhound should be headed like a snake, footed like a drake, sided like a bream, and shyned like beam!" (adorable!)

There was in mid 13 centry (ca 1250) legend of a greyhound saint Guinefort. This canonization of a greyhound by "the people" was suppressed by the church who saw it as dangerous "superstition". You can easily find the story anywhere. I have an essay on the subject I might reproduce in another post if I can find it.

9B: Art of the Renaissance: In terms of all the arts, especially visual, it's perfectly legitimate to posit that Western Man reached his highest achievement in the Medieval to Rococo ages.. The people of this time knew the value of beauty and emotion. So of course, the greyhound pops up in the paintings and sculpture of this period. Eg: the artists Veronese, Pisanello and Ucello, but you'll find many more.

Something quite beautiful to notice is that the greyhound as depicted in art of thousands to the hundreds of years ago, changes very little. What you see today when you look at a grey, is what your ancestors of many many centuries ago saw and loved.

10. England: the greyhound is tinkered around a bit in it's breeding to no ill purpose, you would be surprised to find out how many breeds have greyhound in them.

11. America: Believe me, I'm not America bashing, there is much I love about America, especially it's minority cultures, but facts are facts, it's in this land that Greyhounds become the abused slaves of the racing track. This evil and revolting development began ca 1900 and spread like a cancer to other lands. I'm not going to elaborate here, but I am going to show in pictures (yes they are beyond distressing) what has happened and is happening to this amazing dog that shared so much of our history and lives with us.

Couple of other Sweet Things about Greyhounds: Many will stand up and "hug" you, my grey does this, she makes these odd little "oomph" noises as though she trying as hard as she can to express happiness. She'll stand on her hind legs and "hug" me for as long as I'll let her. If I kneel down for her, she'll wrap her arms around me all day if I let her. It's especially sweet as she was so depressed, lifeless and deeply withdrawn when she first came to live with us.

Many greys are known for "grinning" they'll actually smile at you showing their teeth. It's so sweet, not all do it, mine only half does it. It's the cutest goofiest thing.

Greyhounds are famous for "leaning" on people. They just lean on you, it's a friendly gesture from an inherently warm, loving dog, signifying trust.





Warning: the following imgages are distressing. I'm so sorry, I wish this wasn't happening, but it is. It's just as cruel and culpable to pretend it isn't. But I don't blame anyone for not wanting to look, I really don't.


                      PLEASE HELP US


I've Often Thought That....

....If greyhounds ruled the world, it would an unbelievably nice place. 

I'm going to make my case before you and try to convince you of the veracity of this rather "large" statement. Here goes:

1. What qualifies me to make such a large claim?

Well, I've lived with fostered and taken care of all kinds of dogs, from muttleys, to chihuahuas (maybe not exactly loved chis, but liked them well enough), German Shepherds, basenjis, and of course greys.

Anyway, the point I'm trying to impress upon you, is that, I'm no novice when it comes to dogs.

Of All the Dogs in All the Universe that I've ever met, I adore Greyhounds the most. Why?

1. Temperament: they are perfect. Lazy, Low maintenance, extremely gentle, highly intelligent, affable.  Their most outstanding quality? they have an incredibly smart but goofy sense of humour. These are dogs that will try it on you, (food, space on the bed, couch, attention etc) with a cheezy expression. They know that you know they're trying it on, they just find it amusing to try their luck, they have no hard feelings if you (rather heartlessly, it's almost impossible to say no to these goofy dogs) deny them anything.The are extremely well behaved around the house. They could easily live in a small apartment without being obtrusive, of course, they must have access to the Great Outdoors.

2. Practicalities: They are a healthy breed, not much goes wrong with greys, (eg: no hip displaysia sadly not uncommon in large breeds)  They don't shed much. Don't need tons of food for a big dog. They don't drool. They don't bark much. They have excellent manners in public. They don't want to bothered with long walks. They are just bone lazy. They are rarely aggressive with other dogs. They are simply not aggressive period. However, because of their size, they are good deterrents to would be arseholes.

My first grey was a show greyhound or "English type Greyhound". These dogs are HUGE. they are a little different to most greys that you see. Anyway, once when I was living in a rather, well, rough is one word for it, neighbourhood, a car full of guys pulled up, I heard one of them say "get her get her get her" two of them got out of the car, took one look at my dog and said "No way, I'm not touchin' her man, she's got a greyhound" as the car drove off and I saw it had no number plates. Were it not for my dog, I don't think I'd be alive today.

Speaking of cars, greys, being quiet, sensible dogs, travel well in them. I  take mine everywhere, as well as to the beach with my friends who love her. Because she is such a big dog, no one comes near us. We feel so...intimidating. Rocks our egos. Man.

Greys come in every colour known to Dogdom. Get one that suits your complexion. We have a thing for white dogs. But our first was a black/brown/orange brindle, my God she was beautiful.

Greyhounds are good for the ego

Let's face it, nothing screams "look at me everyone, I'm cool!" better than walking a big motha fucka of a dog. Especially if said MF dog has immaculate manners (as greys do). People will often stop to talk, and they'll think you're rather wonderful for having an ex racer. Unfortunately, you'll also hear some harrowing stories told to you by people who have cause to understand what greyhound racing is actually like.

By the way, I never allow people to touch my dog without permission, I simply say she would prefer not to be handled by strangers. I don't give a fuck how uptight this makes me seem. Dogs have every right not to have their personal space invaded. They're sensitive sentient beings, not fucking "touch me bears".

They have an amazing, and I mean amazing provenance. These really are the aristocrats of the dog world:

1. They are the world's oldest purpose bred dog.

2. They are the only dog mentioned in the bible.

3. There is actually a greyhound saint.

4. Back in the good old days before individualism, before every piece of shit thought he was God, only royalty could own greyhounds. (Admittedly, this was to expedite observance of poaching laws on His Lordship's grounds in feudal times)

5. They are one of the largest family of dog breeds

Let me clear up some misconceptions: 

1. They need a lot of exercise. They don't. Like all hunting animals, (cats for example) greyhounds are built for speed, not endurance. An easy walk, a sniff around the garden, and kaboom she just wants her couch thanks very much.

2. They are inherently obsessed with chasing small animals. Not really, I have photos of my first grey  with my two siams snugged up against her belly while she was stretched out on the couch. Most ex racer adoption agencies will test their potential adoptees with cats and other small fry to ensure the pup goes to a suitable home.

So what's the go with Greyhounds Ruling the World? How come they'd be so good at it?

1. They aren't interested in asserting their egos.

2. They are extremely affable

3. They understand the important things in life: food, couch, respectful company

4. They aren't interested in politicking.

5. They have an excellent, highly intelligent sense of humour.

6. They aren't overbearing or nasty.

7. They are quite simply nice people. That's all.

They Can't Be that perfect, there's got to be a snag somewhere!

1. Well here goes: this is the one thing that might be a deal breaker: they're hounds, they're hunting dogs, they don't understand "fetching". Get yer own fuckin' ball. Boo hoo


If you're a loud, aggressive, hysterical shit, if you're prone to violent outbursts, if you're unstable or cold in temperament, don't get one of these sensitive loving pups. Get a rock. It won't mind how much you scream and kick it. Greyhounds, like all highly intelligent, sensitive, good hearted souls, are easily broken. These are dogs for good natured, calm and respectful people only.

The whole purpose of this post is to convince you to consider making your next dog a greyhound

These gentle, sweet, good hearted dogs suffer horribly. Any animal suffering is an unbearable thing to think of. To me, its worse for an animal that won't defend himself. It's unbearably sad to think about what these dogs go through. If more people make room on their couches for greys: 

1. They will become more widely understood as the perfect friends they are, and not seen as disposable running machines.

2. Just walking your grey will raise awareness of their plight. People rarely see them, they will stop and ask questions. It's your chance to put in a good word for these gentle animals.

Do you know what I hear the most when I walk my grey?

Person: "Oh, is that a greyhound?, do you race her, did she ever win anything?"

Me: "No, it's not my thing, I got her through an adoption agency, she's retired"

Person: "Oh, she's one of the lucky ones, most of them end up with a bullet in their brain if they're lucky or get given to research labs once I heard of a trainer who just...."

Me: "thanks, I get the picture"

I've frequently had the above dialogue with perfect strangers. Re read it, and then take a look at the picture up top.

I know this is a rather long post. Thanks to those who persevered to the end. I'm going to provide the references to biblical citation, the greyhound saint and a few other things I stated there. It's very fascinating.

Cheers and Love from

Me, and Woof from my beloved grey x


I love you so much it makes me sick...uh huh...

This is a picture of my friend Medusa, it was only a few posts ago that I told her in comments on this blog: "the more I know you, the more I think you're one of the coolest people here". And she is.

Sadly for her Mama, this beautiful girl has died. Life is a never ending story of loss. It's a cycle of loss, grief, conciliation of sorts to loss, and so it goes on. Death is as much a part of life as birth, sex, hunger and survival.

Not long ago, we lost our beloved young cat Thomas, also another young cat who was like the God of all Cats to us, and just very recently, 2 family members who were more like angels than people. The pain of losing our young cats was as nightmarish and unbearable as losing the human members of our family. Loss is the worst pain of all. Nothing hurts as much.

This is what Medusa's Mama has to go through now. I wish I could ease it for her somehow. I suppose all I can do, all any of us can do is and let her know that we feel as though we too, have lost a family member. I feel so relieved I can talk to her, when I see her on the timeline, it feels as though somehow things are going to be ok. I'm so glad she's here where I and everyone else can make sure she's as ok as she can possibly be under the circumstances.

This is all true of Medusa the physical, beloved cat. As for the cyber Medusa? She's as alive to me as she ever was, and thank God for that. There were nights when I literally couldn't get my breath from laughing, I remember one night, I was pretty drunk, and I dunno, was it her or the piss but she had me laughing so hard my sides ached, I sat there hand to mouth willing her shut the fuck up so I could get my breath back but wanting her to keep it up cos it was just so fucking funny. Oh Lord, I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life. How many people do you know who can make you feel like that?

I admit on any given day, I don't really have a sense of "fun", kiddie humour bores and embarrasses me, as does fake sentimental mush. I think it's one of the reasons I consider Medusa in many ways a "female me". She said this herself just before I wrote this.We have that in common, although, she's MUCH more tolerant and nicer than me when it comes to kiddie humour (and just about everything else come to think of it). I just think "Oh fuck off"... and you can be pretty certain, if you make me the butt of your kiddie humour, it's the last thing you'll ever be able to say to me before I sever ties.

 So I guess, as much as I feel for her Mama, and I do, because I know only too well how it feels, as does anyone who's lost a member of their family they loved, I also feel that for me, Medusa is still here, she's gone nowhere, and thank God for that, I don't want to lose the babe who knew what to do with _I_

PS: the title of this post comes from my favourite Nirvana song, "Aneurysm"