Friday, November 25, 2005
Help! Big Vanessa has served a paternity suit! Says she’ll set the Chick Support Agency onto me unless I cough up some lolly – and fast!
I know we had a bit of a ‘fling,’ but it never went further than billing and cooing.
The worst of it is, Doris Budgie believes her! She slammed the door in my face when I went round for my fried egg butty for breakfast!
What shall I do? How do I prove the kid ain’t mine?
Posted by Fat Tony at 1:03 pm
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Friday, November 18, 2005
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Home at last. Dave Spiky was finally evicted/rescued by our wonderful fire service - turns out he was just too scared to climb down the tree again. I offered to boot Dave out of my nest and break his fall with Tiddles, but neither of them were impressed with my Cunning Plan.
I'm going to have a lovely sleep now...zzzzzzzzz...
Posted by Fat Tony at 12:01 pm
Monday, November 14, 2005
Fed up with that flea-ridden varmint, Dave Spiky. He won't budge from my lovely nest. I've been reduced to kippin' on 'Arry Alsatian's sofa, which isn't ideal, to say the least. 'Arry's breath could strip paint at 10 paces, it's so 'orrible. Must be all the bones he scoffs.
I rang the Pest Control people, but as soon as I said I was a pigeon, for some reason they thought I was taking the mickey.
If this goes on much longer, I'll start wasting away.
Posted by Fat Tony at 4:56 pm
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Monday, November 07, 2005
Haven't got time to talk much this morning. On Bonfire Night, I went to keep poor Doris Budgie company (she's terrified of fireworks.) We had a nice cuppa cocoa and some chocolate millet, while I tried to persuade her that fireworks aren't really scary.
Then when I came back home, I found some Baboon had let off a huge rocket nearby - and the tree with my cosy little nest in it had caught fire! There's just a smouldering heap on the ground now, and a smell of barbecued Chorley cakes (sob.)
So I must build a nice new nest before nightfall - I don't want to sleep rough with Tiddles on the prowl.
It's a dog's life, being a pigeon.
Posted by Fat Tony at 11:05 am
Thursday, November 03, 2005
And another thing...I was mooching along a country lane, tryin' to think up a new way of taking over the world, when I came across one of those twitcher blokes. Y'know, dodgy anorak, bird book with lots of pretty pictures, mad staring eyes glued to binoculars ...He was all excited coz he'd just spotted a pied jaffinch or something.
Now you would think seeing a pigeon of my unusual proportions would stop a twitcher in his tracks, but no, he just ignored me, jabbering to himself about warblers and whatnot.
So I said, "Aren't you going to note me down in your book?"
He just snorted.
"Look pal," I snarled, "I'm the biggest pigeon in the world, and I reckon that deserves a really big tick in your notebook."
I won't shock my Gentle Readers with his uncalled-for comments on the Noble Breed of Pigeons.
Let's just say he's now doing a Bill Oddie and looking for wildlife down the bottom of an eight-foot-deep muddy ditch.
Posted by Fat Tony at 9:37 am
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