Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Where's me turnip gone?

Last night I heard my turnip singing a song
Coo-ee, turnip turnip sheep sheep
Woke up this morning and my turnip was gone
Coo-ee, turnip turnip sheep sheep
Turnip turnip sheep sheep burp.
I've looked everywhere - under my nest, behind the garden shed, even inside the compost heap. All I found was the Mole's yucky slug collection. And it wasn't pretty...

Saturday, August 27, 2005

For sale

One mouldy root vegetable. Slightly used. Some sheep damage. Answers to the name of Bjørn. Dominoes fiend. Will swap for bag of chips or a pie and mushy peas.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Mole to the rescue

Hurr Hurr! Time to stop Fat Tony's evil plan! Oi'm going to mount a rescue mission!

Monday, August 22, 2005

In a stew

Times are hard here in Lexica's garden. This bloomin' turnip kept me up all night wanting to play dominoes and poker. I don't know where Doris Budgie got to on Saturday night - she staggered into her cage after midnight, wearing a party hat and blowing raspberries on a party tooter, fell off her perch and slept it all off in a corner of her cage with her feet up in the air.
I'm beginning to wonder if Gorgeous Gary has led me astray here. Whenever I call Bernard "Bernard," he starts saying "Bjorn, Bjorn!"
G. Gary promised me he'd snaffled a world famous goat for extortion purposes.
Still, there's no need to panic just yet.
1. Bernard the Goat is still missing, so it probably is him - perhaps he's got magnesia or something after eating too many underpants.
2. No-one else except Gorgeous G. knows I've got him.
3. There's still no reply to my ransom note, so Derek the Sheep and pals are probably emptying out their piggy banks to pay me my £1000.
(Though the ton of pigeon food might be nice - I'm peckish today.)
4. If it isn't Bernard, maybe someone else will pay the ransom for him. But they'd better hurry up - he's eating me out of nest and home.

Friday, August 19, 2005


Goat language is really weird. I offered our 'guest' some chips, but he just keeps jumping up and down on the spot and squeaking Var är toaletten, var är toaletten!
He also got very excited when Gorgeous Gary played his Abba CD.
In fact, considering he's a kidnap victim, our vegetable friend seems to be having a whale of a time.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Heh, heh, heh.

The next phase of my plan to take over the world has begun!

Friday, August 12, 2005

Pigeons are go!

My henchman Gorgeous Gary (a great hit with the lady pigeons) pointed out last night that Criminal Masterminds who Take Over the World always have a Top Secret Hideaway. He also said the top of the climbing frame (or the garden shed when it rains) isn't really much use as a Base. So today me and Gary flew around looking for a new one. I thought a castle might be good, so we zoomed over to one nearby.
You won't believe it, but there wasn't a wall left standing! The place was in a right mess! I will have to think of something else.
Taking over the world is a whole lot more complicated than I thought...

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

A pigeon's philosophy

Fat Tony here. A Certain Sheep - see
  • Derek's Diary
  • says that all I ever think about is Food. Nothing could be further from the truth. I often think Deep and Meaningful Thoughts while perched here on top of the climbing frame. As I survey the poached egg plants in the border, and clouds like fluffy mashed potato sail majestically overhead, I muse on life, the universe, and whether Motorhead's lyrics lack a feminist perspective.

    I wonder if the chippy's open yet?

    Monday, August 01, 2005

    Wedged tight

    Lexica here.
    I'm so FED UP with Fat Tony. I didn't think it was possible for him to get any bigger, but he obviously over-indulged while on holiday in the Canary Islands. I had to get firecrews in AGAIN today when he got wedged inside the bird-table (it has a little wooden roof) and couldn't get out. I thought they were going to have to saw my poor bird-table in half, but the fireman just gave Fat Tony a massive boot up the backside and he popped out - BANG! - like a giant feathery cork.
    "You'll just have to stop putting bread out, missus," the fireman said.
    "I tried putting him on a diet," I said. "I have to smuggle peanuts to the poor little bluetits when Fat Tony isn't looking."
    The question is, how do I stop him mugging the neighbours when they're eating a kebab?