Bleurrrrgh...

Sausage rolls... crisps... choccies... So full - but perhaps just one more wafer-thin mince pie...

A furry fairy!

As you can see, the Mole is stuck up the Christmas Tree. That greedy pest tried to steal all the chocolates off the tree before Christmas Eve, and now he can't get down. Serves him right! The question is, do I leave him there so he can be our Christmas fairy, and have a nice quiet Christmas, or should I rescue him?

Happy Christmas Everyone!

A likely story!

Well, I hopped onto the ferry with my portmanteau, getting rather worried about the whereabouts of Mole and Otter (just in case you think I'm getting soft, I didn't think it was fair for the Irish to be lumbered with them permanently.) Anyway, they turned up just as we were getting ready to sail. Apparently when they couldn't get into my super tower nest for the night, they spotted a rainbow. They followed it to the end and found a lovely burrow. Down and down they went - and there was a red-haired geezer dressed all in green, sitting on a pot of gold!
He gave them the choice of 3 wishes or a pawful of treasure each. Mole wished for worms (which the burrow was full of anyway), Otter wished for fish, (which he scoffed right away), then they blew their last wish on - a James Blunt album! What a pair of puddings!
I'll have to hurl it overboard when they're asleep - I'm not taking rubbish like that home with me.

Eee - awww!

Well, finally got to see my chum Patrick Seamus Neddy O'Donkey and his chum Bono. They have a whale of a time eating grass all day. I think I'll stick to kebabs and pizza, though.

Goodness knows what has happened to the Mole and Otter, though. I haven't seen them all day - and I have to catch the ferryboat back to my nest tomorrow...

Top of the world, Ma!

We arrived safe and sound in the Emerald Isle, although I thought kicking all the passengers out of their ferry cabins at 5.30am was well out of order! I've found a lovely nest site for my stay here - an amazing tower. A room with a view - right out of the reach of cats and other nasty predators. I reckon it's historic or summat - the home of an ancient warrior pigeon, perhaps.

Of course, Mole and Otter can't get into my new nest, but then every cloud has a silver lining...

Stowaways!

It seems like a long time since I had a holiday, so I hitched a ride on a ferry to see my mate Patrick Seamus Neddy O'Donkey over in the Emerald Isle. I was just settling down in a nice new nest in the top bunk with this week's Beano, when I heard a lot of giggling down below. That flippin' Mole and his otter friend had somehow followed me on to the ferry!
I just hope they keep quiet, because if the crew find us we'll be washing dishes and swabbing the decks for the rest of the way...

Wanted

Someone to share a packet of Revels with. I don't like the coffee creams. And the caramel ones are too chewy for my beak.

Next time I'll check first if Tiddles is carrying Maltesers or Minstrels before I go to the bother of mugging him for his sweeties...

Apocalypse Now!

Why didn't anyone tell me about the clocks going back? The chippy has been open for a whole hour earlier every day! And I like to be first in the queue.
I'm completely traumatised after last night. Mole came trundling up with a big grin on his face and a bag of chestnuts in his paws. "Us can 'ave a midnoight feast of roasted chestnuts," he said, "a squirrel gave me these." (Now I come to think of it, that's a very unlikely tale. But to continue...) So we gathered a few twigs together, set them alight, popped the chestnuts in the middle, and waited...
BANG! CRACK! BOOM! Bits of high velocity chestnut flew everywhere! One knocked the owl next door out of his tree! It was every pigeon for himself! Mole, of course, just burrowed down into the ground and disappeared, leaving me cowering behind the holly bush till the explosions petered out.
I won't put my nuts in the fire again in a hurry, you can be sure of that. Just wait till I get hold of that pesky Mole...

Bored, bored, bored. And hungry.

The chippy's run out of spuds, the pizza parlour won't let me in after the last unfortunate incident, and even the Indian restaurant is refusing to serve me. (Just coz I broke the doorway last time I bought some bhajis.) I reckon there's a spot of discrimination against giant pigeons going on. Now what do I do?

A Message for Jammie Oliver

Well, we're back safe and sound. With two mighty leaps, Mole and I were back in the 'hood!
And what has happened while I've been away? The food fascists have been on the rampage, threatening to shut down all the chippys and kebab shops!
I reckon Jammie Oliver and Gillian McTweet haven't thought things through, though. None of this healthy eating lark really applies to pigeons because:
1. We're designed to be walking dustbins anyway.
2. Pigeon survival is at stake. It stands to reason; a small pigeon will make an easy mouthful for a moggy. But an economy-sized pigeon (modest cough) will be too difficult for any passing Tiddles to fit in their maw. AND can squash the nasty moggy flat as a pancake if it gives any trouble.
3. If I went on a diet, I wouldn't be the biggest pigeon in the world any more and some pathetic wannabe would take my place.
So I have a message for Jammie Oliver: TALK TO THE WING, 'COZ THIS PIGEON AIN'T LISTENING!

The Way Back?

Coo! The Mole has found 2 mysterious doorways. Could one of them lead us back to the back garden and my lovely nest? I'm really getting homesick. And what if the local chippy has closed down without me to keep it going?
But - what if I get stuck - in the tunnel?
Looks like we've got three options:

A: Run away screaming and try and hitch a lift off someone.
B: The Mole and me could go down the same tunnel.
C: We could split up and pick a tunnel each. But if Mole disappears I will be all on my own!
And choosing a tunnel will cause a row anyway as the Mole is such an argumentative blighter. (No, Oi ain't!) Yes, you are. (Oi'm not!) Yes you...
We could be stuck here for quite some time ...

A slight technical hitch

Right. The picnic basket is empty, the Mole's sulking because he can't find any worms, and neither of us can remember the way home. Now what do we do?

Another Alien?

Mole has found a new friend - either a Puffin called Papay or a Papay called Puffin, I'm not sure which. The new critter nicked all the anchovies off my emergency pizza I'd tucked into the bottom of the picnic basket. We'll have to think about going home soon if we don't find some fresh provisions, though. Exploring the galaxy is one thing, but running out of chocolate hobnobs is one step too far for this pigeon!

A Heated Debate

The Mole and I had a big row this morning. He doesn't believe we are on an alien planet at all. The nerve! He had to admit this sandy stuff is nothing like the soil in our garden, though. And at least it's keeping him quiet for a bit...

Pigeon Heaven!

Hurray! There really are peanuts in this strange alien land! At least I won't starve once the picnic basket runs out. What a stroke of luck, especially since it's dinner-time. Again.

Tales from the Void II - Another alien!

Now this proves I'm in foreign parts because this strange critter shouted at me in Alien!
It sounded something like Gerrawayframmahpeanuts! Yesmellysassenachpijin!
Hang on a minute - are those peanuts he's scoffing?

Stowaway!

I might've known it! I can't even go on an amazing adventure without that pesky mole tagging along! AND he's eaten all the pies! My custard creams had just better be untouched by grubby mole paws, or else...

My Holiday Diary - Tales from the Void - Aliens!

As I jumped into the scary light, it was really cool with lots of whirling stars and whooshy Tardis noises. Now I'm in a strange new world with lots of weird aliens! I wonder which star system I'm in. Maybe I'm on a planet circling the brightest star of the Great Pigeon constellation! Luckily there's a breathable Earth-type atmosphere, because I didn't have room to fit my spacesuit in the picnic basket - too many Scotch eggs.
Speaking of picnic baskets, there's a funny muffled noise coming from inside it...

Supermassive black hole?

Some pundits think it is unwise for pigeons and moles to tamper with nature, and I'm beginning to think they're right. Since my ill-fated experiment with the cloaking device (or invisibility machine for non sci-fi nuts) the garden hasn't been its usual self. Strange temporal effects have occurred, like me thinking it was Thursday all day yesterday. And the garden shed and my new perch, the bird table, are looking decidedly rickety. (Before you all comment and say it doesn't look sturdy enough to take the weight of the biggest pigeon in the world, I'd just like to point out that the bird table is in fact 40ft high x 10ftx 20 ft. So there.)
Anyway, after watching Dr Who this week with all the cool Dalek and Cybermen battles, this weird shiny light appeared. It must be the gateway to another dimension!
So I'm off to explore this brave new world. I'm hoping it will end up somewhere brilliant like Fort Knox, the Bank of England or maybe even the Tower of London with all those sparkly crown jewels! At the very least it'll help me with my cunning plan to take over the world! Be seeing ya!

Did I miss something?

What a weekend. After a miserable several days trying to find a new perch, I cheered myself up on Friday night with 3 pizzas, a Chinese takeaway and six kebabs. For some reason I didn't feel too chipper on Saturday, so I tried to sleep it off in a conifer tree, thinking it would be nice and quiet all afternoon.
Well, the noise from all the nearby houses was unbelievable. Shrieks, groans, whistles, shouting and strange foreign imprecations. Then just when it finally went quiet at last, everyone started firing up barbecues in their back gardens and made me peckish all over again.
If it wasn't for the fact it's early July, I would have thought there was a big footie match on.

Location, location, location

Well, the search for a new perch continues. You would think that meanie of a Mole would let me kip in his burrow for a day or two while I look for a new home, but No. Just because I was stuck there for days last time I went down his tunnel.

I tried kipping on top of the garden shed but it's covered in ants and woodlice and after a while things down below got downright tickly, if you know what I mean. Although they were nice and crunchy to eat.

It's starting to rain now... And the chippy has shut down coz the owner's on holiday in Germany watching some football thing or other.

It's going to be a long night...

Sabotage!

Reports that the Mole put a spanner in the works of Fat Tony's invisibility machine are completely unfounded, according to this month's Helloooo! magazine. "It were a screwdriver, silly. Oi couldn't foind a spanner. That there machine had to go - that rotten pigeon kept squishing moi worm collection- and Oi couldn't bash 'im over the head while he wuz invisible. Hurr hurr! It wuz real funny when 'ee turned into a budgie, moind. Oi laughed my socks off." Fat Tony was unavailable for comment yesterday, but a spokespigeon assured our reporter that it won't be long before he comes up with a new plan for taking over the world. Especially once he's overcome his new fondness for millet.

The End of an Era

Phew! The effects of the invisibility field wore off and I'm back to my usual handsome self (and size.) I've taken the cloaking device down to the council tip - things were getting way too scary. I put some fresh batteries in and tried it out on my climbing frame perch, and it didn't just become invisible - it vanished altogether! Thank goodness I didn't try it on myself again - I could have ended up down a black hole or summat. I don't know why my invention went so horribly wrong. Did I make a mistake with the wiring? Or could it be Sabotage?
I'm going to have to find a new perch (sob.)
... And another thing. The Mole has been insufferably smug after appearing on Bill Oddie's Springwatch last night. Getting too big for his boots, if you ask me.

An unexpected side-effect

Bleurgh... I still feel very green. Not a well pigeon at all. I did a last heist on a bird seed factory last night, but only came away with peanuts. I turned off the invisibility field this morning, hoping it would make me feel better, (you can see the framework of the machine under my feet,) but the effects are taking a long time to wear off.
My hench-pigeons aren't much help. They keep giggling behind my back. I wonder why?

Teething Problems

Well, at first being invisible was Brilliant! I took all the James Blunt CDs off the shelves in Woolies and carried them to the rubbish skip outside. The staff decided the CDs were possessed and refused to put any more out, so that was my good deed for the day. Then I went and emptied my local supermarket of pizzas and Chorley cakes. The security guards were really spooked when they saw a supermarket trolley trundling on its own and they all ran away!
The bank was next on the list - time to get some lovely lolly. But just as I was busy emptying the safe the AA batteries for my cloaking device died and there I was, smack in the middle of the bank- on all the security cameras - in full view! I quickly put some more batteries in and made a speedy getaway, but it gave me an awful fright. I pecked the cameras on my way out, so hopefully you won't see me on Crimewatch this week.
Trouble is, I keep running out of batteries. And I don't feel very well - a bit green, in fact. I hope the invisibility field doesn't have any side-effects...

Is it working?

5 - 4- 3- 2 - 1 - Go!
Um... I expected something a bit more spectacular than that. Is my cloaking device working? I can't see my feet, but as my tootsies have been out of view for a few years now, that's hardly a reliable indicator.
So the big question is... have I achieved Invisibility?

Ooops!

Oh dear - a slight technical hitch. As I tried to tighten a flange sprocket it boinged off and now my big end's gone. Let's hope all runs smoothly tomorrow...

The invisible pigeon!

Bloggers who visit Derek's forum http://derekthesheep.proboards51.com/ regularly will know that I was inspired by recent scientific research http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/4968338.stm to begin building my own cloaking device or invisibility machine! It's nearly finished now! I just need a couple more flange sprockets and some AA batteries - then my latest plan for taking over the world can begin!

Vote penguin!

Paws has begun a poll on Derek's message board http://derekthesheep.proboards51.com/ (in the Other Nonsense section.)
Vote now to say whether YOU think PenguinGuy is Britain's Most Wanted!

The Culprit!

Well, after a hard week's sleuthing without finding any more clues to the identity of the Phantom Fishnapper, I decided to come back to the nest and have a fish finger butty to cheer me up. And look who I caught red-handed! (Or red-flippered, I should say.) A swift peck on the bottom soon marked his card!

Phew!

The baby otter's Mum turned up this morning, thank goodness! My nest is beginning to really stink of smelly fish. You would've thought she would be grateful I'd looked after him, but no - she gave me a clip round the ear for feeding him on chip butties. That's the last time I do a good deed! Now my otter-sitting days are over, I can concentrate full-time on tracking down the Phantom Fish-napper...

Zzzz....

This baby otter has got to go home. He kept me up all night wanting me to read 'Wind in the Willows.' And the smell of fish is getting on my nerves! So tired...must have a nap...zzzzzzz

A material witness

Still hot on the trail of the phantom fishnapper. I flew down to the llama colony by the M6 toll road (current population 33 1/2) to see what the word on the streets is. Lynnette Llama here reckoned it was some guy in a monkey suit who stole the otter's grub! The plot thickens...

Lost!

I was just settling down to watch 'The Apprentice' last night (I want to pick up some tips for controlling my henchpigeons.) I'd made a nice big stack of fish finger butties (with peas.) While I was looking round for the telly remote, this blighter sneaked up inside my nest and scoffed the lot! I got cross and gave him a peck, when he started blubbing, saying he'd lost his Mummy. He chased after some guy in a black-and-white suit who pinched HIS fish supper, and couldn't find his way home again. I got us a chippy tea to cheer us both up, but blimey - he's a really messy eater. I'm still picking bits of fish out from behind my ears (difficult when you're a pigeon.) How can I maintain my gangster image when I end up babysitting a constant stream of stray animals?
Now I have to turn detective. Where does Ollie Otter live? And who nicked his fish supper?

Same old

Back to the grind. Me and my bird ain't speaking again. Doris refused to share her last Rolo with me. I pointed out that she couldn't really be my lovebird if she hogged it to herself. THEN she started going on and ON about some book by Gillian McTweet called 'You are what you Gobble' and pointed out (with unnecessary relish I might add) that if the Health Fascist is correct, then I'm actually a kingsize burger, mega kebab and extra large pizza with millet to go.
I said someone munching a packet of Rolos all by herself has no right to adopt the high moral ground. So there!
She'll be putting me on a diet next...

Bird flew

It's getting a bit scary round here with all these rumours about bird flu, so I'm off for a long weekend with Doris Budgie. Don't worry though, I'll be back in time for the Easter Egg feast!

Bad Karma

Coo, it was bloomin’ windy this week. A sudden huge gust blew me right off my nest! Luckily Tiddles Clutterbuck was lurking under my tree, so I had a nice soft landing. He’s OK, though - just used up one of his nine lives.
This got me thinking. How come flippin’ moggies get nine lives dished out to them? Of course, there must be a nice cat here and there like Paws, but the sad fact is that the vast majority of cats were obviously serial killers in a previous life.
Funny thing, reincarnation. It must have caused no end of confusion back in the Jurassic era. Just imagine, one minute you’re a T. Rex, or even a spinosaurus, lord of all you survey, then before you can say ‘mass extinction,’ POW! the comet hits. Then next thing you know you’re a shrew, and your world view is limited to bugs and worms.
I suppose there might be some kind of similarity, though, in what kind of critter you get reincarnated as. A shark might come back as an estate agent (or vice versa.) Or if you’re a wool bearing animal, and haven’t been able to get up to much mischief, you wake up in another field. This might not be jammy, though. In one life you’re a sheep, happily grazing in your field, dreaming about the hidden vistas on the other side of the hedge. Then you get reincarnated as a llama. At last you can see over the hedge! But instead of green fields and valleys, you have a lovely view of the M6 toll road.
So, reincarnation ain’t all it’s cracked up to be (unless you come back as a millionaire, of course.)
And what, you may ask, was a certain giant pigeon in his previous life?
Just don’t call me Scarface…

Just Ducky

This is Debbie Duck and chums limbering up for the Chorley Cake-eating marathon. They came round to see if they could peck up some tips and get into training - the record is 10 Chorley cakes in 2.69 seconds. Luckily they brought their own supplies - things might have got ugly if they'd wanted to break into my stash. Moral support is one thing, but me and my Chorley cakes have a special relationship.

Intruder!

Push off, pheasant! This is a pigeon-only garden. Paws off my breadcrumbs!

Proof positive

Here's Bertie Bear modelling this year's collection of bearwear - proof positive that teddybears do wear underpants (essential on these chilly mornings.) Bertie's tips for keeping trim include a diet of Chorley cakes smothered with lashings of honey and at least 3 naps a day.

Peace at last

(Yawn.) AT LAST the Mole is happy and settling down to sleep by himself. Just off to have a nap or six...zzzzzzz....

Bedtime story

Just when I thought the menace of James Blunt was over and done with, the awful effects of his music linger on. That stupid mole insisted on digging out the JB CD from the compost heap and listening to it “…because we spent all the treasure on it, didn’t Oi.” (Luckily I told him my CD player was programmed to self-destruct if JB came anywhere near it.)
The result? He keeps having terrible nightmares and waking up with the screamin’ ab-dabs. Then he climbs into my nest – and believe me, the last thing you want at 3am is a muddy mole burrowing under your duvet.
SO I’m reading him a bedtime story every night so he goes to sleep properly.
Problem is finding him a story which isn’t too thrilling. I read the Wind in the Willows and he was got so excited, he was up all night acting out the bits with Mole and Ratty.
What would be a nice, soothing bedtime story for Mole?

Mission Accomplished!

Hurrah! JBB squadron have just returned. Those wizard chaps said they were bang on target. Boring Blunt was covered in the world's biggest heap of guano! Now we can all sleep safely in our beds...

JBB Squadron

It's all set. At 0800 tomorrow an immense flight of highly trained pigeons - JBB (James Blunt Busting) squadron - will leave on a highly dangerous mission - to SPLAT James Blunt so horribly he will never show his face or inflict his rotten music on a poor unsuspecting public ever again.
This is it folks - the first ever 1000 pigeon bombing raid! (Feel free to join in by singing the 'Dambusters' theme tune or '633 Squadron.' ) Who knows what dangers these intrepid flyboys will face along the way? Keep everything crossed that their mission is successful - the whole future of our civilisation is at stake!

Another prime target

How could I have forgotten about Craig David? He's got to go as well.

Hit list

After consulting all the local beasties - Gorgeous Gary, 'Arry Alsatian, and even Tiddles Clutterbuck - I've decided Action must be Taken to rid the world of the Menace that is James Blunt. Boring David Gray is on the 'hit list' too.  So if you know any poor, deluded creatures who have fallen under their evil spell (such as Doris Budgie and the Mole, currently sulking down his tunnel), take them gently to one side and bash them over the head with a stale Chorley cake until they see the error of their ways. (Although I have to admit this didn't go down well with Doris, who isn't Speaking to me again, but we all have to make sacrifices for the greater good.)

All I need now is some creative suggestions on what to do with all those 'music' CDs. Remember, putting James Blunt straight in the bin, while satisfying, isn't good enough as we must all Recycle nowadays. The posters of him have comedy potential so we won't worry too much about those.

Here are some tips to get you all started:

 

* If you run out of crackers, cover the JB CDs with jam (or peanut butter) and lick the spread off

* String them together and stretch them across the garden as an alarm system in case the long arm of the law (i.e. Inspector Jack Daw) comes sniffing round looking for contraband.

* Use them as coasters for your steaming mug of cocoa

Over to you, bloggers. The world is in peril!

Top of the world, Mole!

Now you may recall that while I was lying unconscious with Shock on the ground, that dozy Mole was busy untying his giant balloon. Of course as soon as he untied it, he whooshed up into the sky!
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I spotted was the Mole stuck in the nearest tree. His balloon was caught on a branch and had already begun to deflate.
“Help! Oi don’t wanna go to the Moon!”
“Heh, heh. Serves you right!”
“Get Oi down!”
“All right, all right. Keep your fur on.”
Pigeons aren’t very good at untying knots, so I just gave the balloon another peck, and down it went.
“Heeeeeeeeelp!”
Sploosh!
Luckily the Mole fell in the birdbath, so he didn’t hurt himself, just had a nice cold bath.
“Oi hates baths!”
“Well you smell a lot better now, Mole!”
The Mole didn’t reply – he just jumped into the flower border and wasted no time getting all grubby again. He even forgot about his James Blunt CD.
I wonder if I could ‘persuade’ one of the local moggies to give me some money for it?

Pop goes the pigeon!

"Mole! Where are you?

"Here I be!"

"Where've you been?"

"Shopping! Oi've got some great bargains!"

"Eh?"

"Oi've got a big balloon to un-stick you from moi tunnel, you stoopid pigeon!"

"Great! Get me out of here, quick! I'm starving!"

"Right. Oi've already tied the balloon to your tail feathers..."

"Ooh, so that's what that funny tickly feeling was! I thought it might be Doris feeling frisky."

"Now Oi'll start burrowin'at this end."

"It's...it's working...I'm being pulled back-.."

!!!POP!!!!!

"Hurray! With one giant leap, this pigeon is free! Thanks, Mole! You'd better have your balloon back now - don't want the other birds laughing at me!"

"Hurr hurr! Too late for that! They've been laughin' at you all week!"

"Huh! Er...Mole...What other bargains did you get? And what did you use for money?"

"The gold, silly!"

"WHAT! All of it? Oh no! Surely you didn't use all our treasure to buy one balloon?"

"Course not! Oi'm not stoopid! Oi got another bargain as well!"

"Crumbs, oh golly, oh gosh...please tell me it's not true...what was your bargain then, Mole? A Ferrari? A supercomputer? Easter eggs?"

"Much better than any of those!"

"WHAT...DID...YOU...GET?"

"A James Blunt CD!"

"NOOOOooooooooo!" (Faints.)

Still stuck

It's dark in here. And there are Beetles.

down t' pit

Hello folks. Sorry if I sound rather muffled. Some of you may know the story in Winnie-the-Pooh where he gets stuck in Rabbit's doorway. Now if you subsitute ' Mole'-hole for 'Rabbit doorway,' and 'Giant Pigeon' for 'Winnie-the-Pooh' - well, you get the picture. Someone grassed up me and the Mole to the Customs and Excise people about our gold bullion and we had to hide it in a hurry. I scurried in after the Mole so I'd know where he'd put the loot  - and you can guess the rest.

The Mole is being Really Sympathetic (not) - in fact, he hasn't stopped chortling for hours, and isn't Helping at All.

I, on the other hand, am starving hungry. And I've got icicles hanging off my poor frozen butt.

Untold wealth!

We’re rich! Look what we’ve found! Mole’s already bought a swanky new outfit! I’m off to buy the biggest pizza the world has ever seen!
After that – world domination, here I come!

Rich pickings

Well, I finally got the mole to cooperate with my archaeological dig in the back garden by promising to let him have all the worms we dig up.

We make a great team. Mole digs and I sieve through all the earth with Lexica's flour sieve (I didn't bother to ask her, as I knew she'd say no.)

It's bloomin' hard work though. And this is the untold wealth we've discovered so far:

 

103 worms

104 slugs (ugh!)

6 ring-pulls

A fossilized Chorley cake (I tried to nibble it but nearly broke my beak)

And a plastic boomerang thingy from Whizzer and Chips.

Awkward blighter

The Mole is being very unco-operative - every time I try to speak to him about digging for treasure, he blows a giant raspberry and disappears down his tunnel. I think I'll have to try bribery...