Monday
The job search continues for Beard Face. How long has it been now? I’ve lost count of the weeks. Today he hit upon the idea of being David Cameron, our humble Prime Minister of the UK. Beard Face’s reasoning was that the PM must be on a pretty good salary and that it would be nice to wear a suit most of the time as well. How the old boy was going to facilitate this new career move remains a mystery and given the state of UK politics at the moment it might only be a temporary position anyway what with the General Election coming up next year.
Tuesday
Charlie has continued his plans to capture Santa Claus when he visits our house in a week’s time. We don’t have a chimney so Charlie is planning to wait by the front door, while Buggles guards the back door. When Santa enters the house, not triggering the alarm system because he’s magic, Charlie and Buggles are going to tie him up with sellotape and interrogate him. Charlie wants access to Santa’s key that can open any door and he wants to know the address of where he’s from so the elves and reindeer can be recruited to the feline revolution. In other words, it’s all very festive here.
It’s tough being Beard Face. Even the simple act of mowing a lawn can induce a migraine.
Wednesday
Frizzy Hair has been helping Beard Face edit his novel. When I say edit I actually mean rewrite the whole thing for him. One line from Beard Face’s draft read: “The large fat man with hair like Goldilocks, a smirk like Machiavelli, armpits like Venus, buttocks like J-Lo, eyebrows like a guy with very bushy eyebrows, a stomach like Tweedle Dee but not Tweedle Dum, a brain like a peanut, a nose longer than Pinocchio’s, a crack addition, a meth addiction and a fascination with My Little Pony, entered the room that was at least 10 foot by 20 foot with furniture in it and I don’t just mean any furniture, we’re talking chairs, a table, a bookcase, carpets, windows, doors, floors, walls, a ceiling and even one of those monkeys that bangs cymbals together. Frizzy Hair condensed this rather long sentence down to “The man entered the room.”
Thursday
The Apprentice was dramatic this week. The remaining five candidates were interviewed about their business plans by the likes of fearsome bald guy and Ricky Martin, not the real one, a recruitment one obviously. This is the really good bit of the series where previous favourites often fall by the wayside because their business plans are crap and so it proved this time. Going into the final this weekend Lord Sugar has a choice of I.T. or women’s fashion. Normally I’d say this was an easy choice but last year he had to pick between cupcakes and cosmetic surgery and opted for the latter so we shall see.
Friday
Beard Face and Frizzy Hair tried to be clever today by doing the last of their grocery shopping before it got ridiculously crazy. Only when they had fought through the crowds did they realize it was Mad Friday. At least they came home with some worthwhile stuff including food for myself and for my brothers. To be honest I was expecting something a bit more glamorous than the food I eat all year round. Couldn’t they have stretched to a Christmas Tree made out of tuna or something?
Saturday
Busy day today. Beard Face was celebrating a rare Barnsley win before his brother showed up with his girlfriend. Beardy and Frizzy Hair were hosting a dinner and minor drinking session. It went really well all things considered. Beard Face looked and talked like a complete moron as usual, especially after a few beers, but generally our guests didn’t look too intimidated. Bilbo and Frodo made themselves at home by sitting on our guests’ laps but subtlety has never been their strong point. I briefly assessed the situation before disappearing upstairs and enjoying a choice of beds to myself while the others were distracted downstairs. Bliss.
Sunday
Beard Face was utterly pathetic today. He was up bright and early doing chores and decided to impress Frizzy Hair by mowing the lawn. It took him 20 minutes to figure out how to get the lawnmower started but once he did it was a like a 2 minute job, massacring the garden. No sooner had the old boy finished than he claimed that the gardening had caused a migraine and he disappeared to bed for a couple of hours. Frizzy Hair was fooled by the whole performance too. He was well enough to tune into The Apprentice final later I might add. Pathetic.
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