Rolling Bomber Special

Katori Shingo is just Fab.

Fear

I too can be the chosen Burmese bald love monkey of the Master Kitano if I wish. For I am VIVIAN fear my name.
Omm Shanti
Viv

Shlong

No its not illegal and in some countries it is even encouraged. Cross pollination of the species in our case is impossible unless you are suggesting cross pollination of neutered (gawd that's a hard word to spell) species. Any way I'm Vivian and as you already know that is Tubbs. I'm the stupid one she's just pretending.

Today's story is about Jed who was a member of our family many years ago. He died of natural causes unlike Dougal(God rest his Burmese soul) or Brett Whitely who came to a bit of a tricky end in a motel room in Terrigal or Kiama involving some top notch smack and a bottle of pineapple juice. Jed had befriended the Sydney socialite/artist at a coffee house in Kings Cross. They became acquaintances not in an intimate can I sniff your bum kind of way but rather in a gee that's a nice sculpture your carving up there, and I know it's meant to look like a burnt match stick but in fact looks more like a big black giants wopping shlong, do you mind if I piss on it kind of way. Which naturally Mr Whitely thought was utterly hilarious, throwing his head back with gay abandon , which was popular in the early nineties too, passing comment about such things as all the worlds a critic rah rah rah. That's why this painting is called Domain Art Critic and that's why we don't mess around with big black shlongs (not that there is anything wrong with them)or top notch smack or pineapple juice in our family.

Peace

Vivian

Akemashitomedetou

She looks worried doesn't she? That's because she has realised she has the potential to be a pianist (of moderate skill) but will never be allowed to ride through Paris with the warm wind in her hair. This is Lola.

AKEMASHITEOMEDETOU! that's Happy New year in Japanese.

IT rained It rained It rained It rained for about five minutes. It was Amazing. The whole place smelled like cow poo which is really just wet grass. But now it has passed. Life's joys can be so fleeting.

Omm

Tubbs

Nothing

This is my friend/toy, his name is Elton John. Today is December 31,2006. Woopti fekken Doo. There is nothing untoward about the weather as it is at its usual 38c. There are no fires in the vicinity. I went for a swim in the river yesterdaay and Suddam Hussain got the chop. Gosh, he was a bit of a bloody buggery bastard wasn't he?

The house guests have returned from whence they came and now the house is surrounded by a kind of hush not heard of in at least four days. No doubt there will be crapulent merry making this eve to mark the passing of another meaningless measurement of time designed by humans to make each other feel uglier, older, incompetent and bad,(as in going off like a bag of prawns in the sun).

Hare Krishna

Tubbs

Wind

We went for a drive yesterday up past the Buffalo Dam to see the water level and any remains of the fire. It was eeeerie. it smelled of burnt eucalyptus mixed with soil and there was only silence, no birds singing. The reprieve that Christmas brought is subsiding for the air is filling up with smoke again as the wind changes and the fires gain momentum. It made me feel full of dread as I saw what the fire monster can do. Oi when will the rains come?

We have Christmas visitors in the home at the moment(besides the carrot people) They are my two city cousins Lola the Shnoodle and Ike who is a pizza. I like Ike best because he is the same size as me. We snuck into the compost last night and ate lettuce and lots of gnocchi.....Now I don't feel like such a small chihuahua. More like a bloater fish (with wind) oh how we farted during the night and threw our heads back with such abandon and mock gaiety. Vivian does such bad farts that I have seen a big man fall backwards with tears in his eyes. True.

Love

Tubbs

Too much good thing James Brown is dead

Just look at her! I told her not to go so hard on the Catnip last Sunday but would she listen? She now has what is called Catnip Thursday which is a condition most common amongst very hairy chihuahuas. She is asleep at the keyboard dreaming she is the bald love monkey of Mr. Kitano Takeshi. Christ all mighty and I'm the one left having to deal with these three feral carrots. The one on the left is called Stumpy, the one in the middle is called Mingy(she is a member of the band called Carrots with Minges) and the one on the right is Bob. They turned up in our vegie patch from deep within the earth and are here to show their respects for the passing of a Mr. Brown. James Brown. Bob thinks he is a medium and has been trying to communicate with James Brown all night which has been quite annoying. But they are guests in our home so I will respect their strange and foreign ways....

Peace

Vivian

Love Monkey

I love Kitano Beat Takeshi so much that I want to be his love monkey. Any hoo I was loitering around the chook pen this morning wondering why there used to be nine chooks and now there are five. As I pondered this conundrum it occurred to me that five is less than nine. Which prompted me to ask the question"What became of the other four?" No sooner had this perplexing question rattled my little chestnut brain that a massive stinking fekkin monster of a feral cat appeared from inside the chook pen climbed up the fence and disappeared into the blackberries. Bastard mangy cat! I'ma ganna catch that cat and have a good talk to it about how this thing that it is doing is not a good thing and then I will get Nasty like Janet Jackson and then it's gunna be really sorry it nicked my chooks.

All hail the master himself the one the only Beat Takeshi....YAYVivian the little Burmese tit is really annoying me today because he keeps biting my paws and ears. I hope I don't catch a furball off him

Omm

Tubbs

V.D.

Was it the catnip speaking? or was it the residue from the techno beat of that crapulous previous night spent with Vivian, I may never know. But I had a dream. I had a dream I had been on a long plane flight from Tokyo my home and now I was on a train looking out the window. The train started from Cronulla where I got on with my mum and a pair of Ice skates. There was a tiny map of Australia printed on the corner of the window. It was the logo of the glass manufacturing company. There were government warnings on the walls. There was a drawing of a man chasing a woman chasing a man chasing a woman and they were all orange and they were all naked and they all were laughing and big words said something something

( I couldn't read English) V.D.

Whats V.D.? I asked me mum. I don't recall the answer but I do recall being directed to become aware of the Neon golf man on the sign of the golf shop outside the window. We were at Central. I named him Central Golf Man. His puce neon golf balls fly along the veridian backdrop interminably, incessantly knocking me on the head. I can't stand that winter chill that seeps into your bones and contracts your body to a sweaty shaking mess. .....Oh I've said too much. Forgive me, as you know I am a very very small chihuahua.

I'm Tubbsie

Just say "NO"

That Bastard Vivian and his hardcore catnip!!! Never trust a cat who promises you the best night of your life and leaves you feeling cheap and worthless. If only my chestnut sized brain would stop pounding. George Bush is a TURD!!

At least I have my trinkets. Its cold outside. There was even talk of snow on the alps...In December!! That's just a world gone Topsy turvey. And for all you sweet twits from the northern hemisphere this is Australia so its meant to be 40c in the shade....(that's Celsius not Fahrenheit) is there anything else I need to explain for you? I'm angry, that's right and PRUUUOUD of it!!! Oprah Winfrey is one too!!( a TURD that is), and what the hell, its Christmas so is Tom Cruise! Oh that feels so much better. Thank you. By the way the paintings are by my friend Kaye Freeman. If you want to use the images well ok but make sure she gets the credit for them not like that arsehole magazine in Sydney Paddington who once used one of her paintings in an advert without permission or credit. REALLY BIG TURDS After all are good manners not the glue that bindeth our society? And without good manners are we not just very runny Turds? Take that thought with you this Christmas and remember to say thank you and please and do you mind? (if I sit on you lap and lick your eyeball?)

Peace

Tubbs

Techno syblings

Un kah un kah un kah un kah dege dege dege dege dege ge dah! Dancing Ya'll to that techno beat yeh! Throw your paw up in air the swing'em round like you just don't care wah wah wah I feel good I feel spunky Vivians a cat and Im soooo funkay Duff Duff Duff Duff wah wah wah wah

Melleekalikimacka

No its not Finnish. It's Hawaiian for Merry Christmas. I'm not sure about the spelling but as I always say, "Eh, what can I do? I am but a cross chihuahua." That cute little guy next to me is my new brother. H e arrived from the great Burmese Blue in the sky a few weeks ago. We had to drive all the way to the Mornington Peninsula and home in a day just to get him. My friends Aniko and Alex came with us but they just ate lollies and pretended to be twins the whole time which they are NOT..........I'm Tubsie.

I love Pinky

OHI! Dear Lerrd,

My life has been diminished. (see comment first post) My soul is shaken , my character stired.

For Pinky, the one I ADORE has chosen to diminish me as a parisian....Poodle.

Oi th pain Oi the humiliation.

Yet even though she has scathed my soul I will always leave out for her when she is thirsty, my water bowl. An dgoddammetsky if I can Fekken figure out how to make all my words line up like I want ehm to. Fecken little bastards!!!!

(My regal atomic nose)

Dio Vacca!

Por Punkas' on Fire! Por Punkas' on fia! That's right I said Fia! And isn't Por Punkah just the best name for a place? Perhaps not. . ...
Wandilagong isn't bad but my favorite is Dandongadale. Dandongadale is just before Wandilagong but not far from Por Punkah. Dio Vacca! (and I don't mean that in a Hindu way.) But these fire fumes are really starting to reek havoc with my tonsils.

Beloved Brother

Dougal my beloved brother was once a city cat. He was witty he had charm and most of all he was able to enchant all those he met. Once under his spell people would forget their petty peccadilloes and feel richer for having met him. The family then moved to THE COUNTRY...Dum dum dah...There was fear and trepidation amongst the family folk that Dougal may not like it. He might miss the gay repartee of the city life. The duff duff of techno discos and the coming together of high life and scum. He may even run away. But none of this was to be, for Dougal, known far and wide as a lover not a fighter soon found his country paws and was climbing the trees, catching rabbits and rats with the best of them. He shines as a beacon of adaptability that we all tried to emulate. Oh how he inspired us all. I suppose you can all see where this is going but certain things need to be said before reality smacks us in the chops like a menopausal Russian ballet teacher. Thats right. With the drought comes thirsty serpents and we live where there is a veritable smorgasbord. There are Tiger snakes, red bellied black snakes and charming brown snakes. Which ever side of the political snake/cat fence you choose to inhabit the outcome was a tragedy of Greek proportions. A fragile family, over its quota of grief for at least ten years refused to see it coming. But come it did, like a train and a semitrailer all rolled into one straight to our back door. For that is where he managed to drag himself back to after the fact which I cannot even now, six weeks after the event can not, yay will not utter from my paws to you gentle reader. So it goes he is gone. Gone. Dougal has returned to the Great Burmese Blue in the sky and we shall not forget him. He was my big brother and I loved him so.

Christ almighty! We are now into our third week of feculent smoke inhalation. It reminds me of Tokyo in the early seventies when you would be running across the play ground trying to usurp the soccer ball off your nemesis Hayashi Yuuki when suddenly BANPH! a thousand needles would perforate your eyeballs and a swarm of kamikaze bees sting your lungs. Now, that's pollution. And this reminds me of that. Today is Sunday and its probably going to get a bit hot but not too awful. Today I would like to introduce you to my brother Dougal. Dougal adopted our family a few years ago. A Burmese Blue his personality and good looks beyond compare. Dougal helped me see the world from a perspective mere mortals can't even dream about. He tested me and cajoled me and taught me the necessity for irony and a good fart joke. Many has been the time I was pinned down by Dougal while he opened a jar over my nose and mouth containing a fart he had saved. So maybe he drank a little too much at times and quoted Benny Hill or Spike Milligan incessantly but who amongst us has not enjoyed the awkward and uncomfortable silence produced by an inappropriate comment amongst strangers?

Atomic chihuahua

No its not an atomic bomb going off at the end of the tobacco paddock! It's what a bushfire looks like when it's a wee tiny thing(just like me). That's my fabulous ear on the left and this also happens to be the last blue sky day we have had for quite some time. I must say the incessant smoke is really starting to gnaw on all our nerves. We are all incredibly grateful to all the fire fighting people who are doing such a difficult job to protect us. There is not much water left in our river(that's where I get my drinking water from) cause it NEVER rains. Christ all mighty its enough to turn you into a bloody buggery poodle! At least our chances of falling off the perch due to skin cancer is diminishing whilst our chances of slipping off the cliff due to lung cancer is multiplying exponentially. Yes I realize you are extremely impressed with my gargantuan vocabulary but you must remember, I am a very cross chihuahua and as the song says Anger is an Inwegqua.........or something. The orange dappled sunlight is gently kissing the tinderbox lawn which once boasted its veridian hue to all of mother nature, today even the roses look like tired old whores. Woa is me, this dryness is reeking havoc with my humid equilibrium. Oh for the lushness of the jaungle surrounding my mother land of lake Titicaca. But I digress.... Please be mindful of the water you use there isn't much left and I am due for a shampoo.
Tubbs

Summer on Fire

Hello my name is Tubbs and I live in the Alpine region of Victoria. I am but a small chihuahua cross who likes to chew on rabbit pellets and day old wombat droppings. I like to think mine is a refined pallet. Over the last week we have been on fire. That's right the whole arsehole country is burning up. We wake up to the blinding filthy stink of smoke and we fall asleep coughing our guts out....eh but what can you do? As I said before I am but a small cross chihuahua.

I found my self in these pleasant surroundings just over a year ago when I was rescued from the wrong side of the tracks. My mother was a Pomeranian whore and my father was a randy bastard chihuahua. I like to think I take after my father. (At least that's what the sheepskin rug thinks) They cut out my uterus when I was six months old so I can do whatever the hell I like.