Tales of nonsense and items of little interest, sometimes true, always poorly thought through. Less sophisticated than most newspapers and magazines.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Goodbye Old Friend

This week has been a rough week for me and probably not much fun for our dog either. The week started badly for both of us. We have both suffered, although me more than him. He got sick at the weekend, apparently after eating something that did not agree, and spent the next couple of days in what you can assume was a fair amount of discomfort. It can't have been very nice for the poor animal. There was one slightly amusing moment when one morning I woke at 3:00am to the sound of running water. It seems that Mrs.W, upon smelling dog shit in the house had gone to investigate, apparently in the dark and barefoot, and having inadvertently stepped in said shit was now attempting to wash it off. She only had herself to blame, it was foolish and shortsighted to embark upon such a treacherous mission in darkness. In fact, a largely overlooked and little known paragraph from the private, personal diary of Thomas Edison confirms that one of the motivating factors in his research and subsequent invention of the electric light bulb was a similar experience involving his beloved Great Dane "Morris" and the non too coincidental disappearance of a three week old leg of mutton that Mrs. Edison had been nagging him to throw away for several days.
Anyway, to cut to the chase, our dog has been shitting like a goose. Normally this amuses me as I am not the one who cleans it up since I had a line or two added and notarized as an amendment to our marriage vows, but this time it was not quite so amusing. My blue leatherette beanbag, after which this blog is named, is a total loss. Quite what it was doing out in the living room anyway, I don't know. I didn't put it there. We had some friends staying with us recently and I assume that it was removed from it's usual home in the record/spare room to make way for them and just did not get put back. Whatever the reason, it's irrelevant, it's gone, history, the bin men took it on Tuesday.
To be fair, I hadn't used it in quite some time. It may surprise many of you to learn that I have at various points in my life used, but rarely abused any number or combination of illegal (or at the very least illegitimately obtained) substances. Not that I condone or advocate this behaviour, especially if you are a teenager or a minor, but me and the beanbag had some good times. Many an enjoyable evening was spent with the beanbag (not counting that night I found out that we had rats - that wasn't pleasant at all). But, like that old worn out pair of undies that serve no purpose other than comfort, or the sweat and curry stained t-shirt that you sleep in (removed only for sleep naked night), it's hard to say good-bye.
The shit, if it can be called shit for it had no texture, it was really just foul smelling water with a fine sand like grit in it, had penetrated the seams of the leatherette and undoubtedly tainted the small polystyrene balls contained within. The purpose for which it was intended, relaxation, was no longer attainable. Any future use would be ill advised. All I have is memories. The first time I listened to The Verve's Urban Hymns, Radiohead's Kid A, that fuckin' killer Droog mp3 that I downloaded. Good times.

I may buy a new one, one with real beans inside it, the kind that do not absorb the odour of dog cack, or one with a washable cover. It's not the leatherette that was the problem. Normally you can't go wrong with leatherette, you can wipe off most spills and accidents. It's the seams and the stitching that you have to worry about, or whatever is underneath. I don't know, the time may not be right, maybe give it a month or two, try and find the right one for me. I shouldn't just rush out and get a new one just to help me cope with my loss, wouldn't be prudent, might be under filled or not as durable. No, I shall wait for the right one to come to me. I'm not interested in someone else's cast off either, I want my own, one that I can mould and shape, make it my own. A beanbag is for life not just for xmash. I'll probably go with leatherette again. There is something about it, looks like the real thing, feels like the real thing and from a distance or in a photograph could easily be confused for the real thing.

The wife suggested that I change the name of the blog. I don't think I want to do that but am open to suggestions. I know that readership has dropped lately due to lack of posts, but the ones that are left are the ones that matter. Anybody?

13 comments:

The Mistress said...

New blog name...

Anal Leakage.

The Mistress said...

Naugahyde Davenport

Vinyl Setee

Pleather La-Z-Boy

or variations thereof

savannah said...

keep the name as a sort of tribute to all things leatherette.

Old Knudsen said...

The Johnny Morris Tribute Blog

Sick Dogs and Englishmen

Midget anal rape delight

Arse Explosion

Tears of a Clown

Hungry like the woof

Crowd Pleaser Dick Teaser

Titty Wank

All Water Under The Fridge

Ghey or just English?

Psycho Therapy and you could call yerself "The-rapist"

ach I'm done, get feedburner or something.

ellie said...

Waring, your fart on your sleeve.

Waring, nothing but a smile.

Knudsens bitch

Sam, Problem-Child-Bride said...

Bit Of Carpet.

Anonymous said...

leatherette colostomy bag

Fresh Hell said...

Mama Tried

or, in deference to your people:

Mum Tried

FirstNations said...

Leatherette Beanbag: now with 50% more liquid dogshit!

you are welcome.

Anonymous said...

My Painful Life...

War and Peace

Stinkys' Blog

The Mistress said...

Merry Christmas, pal, wherever you are.

Bock the Robber said...

Happy Christmas Mr Waring. (Sounds like a movie).

ellie said...

MERRY CHRISTMAS