[m i a o w] the cat

There are many things I do not do.
I don’t do plumbing.
I don’t do new cars.
I don’t do pointy shoes.
I don’t do boob tubes.
I don’t do white.
I rarely do floral.
I don’t do liquorice, aniseed or mango.
And unfortunately, I don’t do Clive Owen.
But what I do do - (besides using the word ‘do’ twice in a row and making it look weird) is COOK NEATLY. I do not begin to make us a pesto dinner by squashing all the basil into the blender, whizzing it once and then remembering that we actually have a food processor. I do not then use every pot in the house and then a few more from planets yet to be discovered. I do not then leave the kitchen, in honour of its historical significance, exactly as it looked precisely at the time I finished cooking, in the hope of making a bit of extra pocket money by conducting tours on the weekends. I do not ‘forget’ to stack all previously mentioned pots, blenders, implements and food processor parts near the sink and clear the bench. And I do not, when my girlfriend grabs my head so I can’t get away and hisses the words ‘cook neater’ into my shell-like ear, repeat the words as if they are a language that I can only vaguely understand and then say;
“Cook neater? Cook neater? You are unbelievable. Just fucking wash up.”
Because I don’t have a girlfriend. But if I did, I’d learn about the times when it is very important to utilise the word ‘acquiesce’. Like now. And I would realise that by not utilising that very important word, I would be blogged.

P.S. M says to say that I liked the dinner so much that I drooled - literally - on to the coffee table [shrugs] It’s true, but does not dilute the rant