Operation You Twat

May 26th 2006

“It’s Friday,” said The Trouble, entering the kitchen.

“All day.”“We always have a Chinese on a Friday, or a Thai.”

“Right, we’re having sliced beef in black bean sauce.”

“Then why are you making meatballs?”“They’re for the Pollitt’s dog.”

“You’re going to try feeding it? In the hope it will stop barking?”

“In the certain knowledge it will stop barking.”

I put The Trouble in the picture as I added the twelve crushed sleeping pills to the pound of Tesco’s steak mince and formed it into two eight ounce balls. I half-expected her to raise some opposition to my plan as she used to be in the RSPCA until she swerved to miss a cat and suffered a whiplash injury, but none came. No doubt she’s as heartily pissed off with You Twat’s barking and howling as I am. “Right,” I said, “you get yourself upstairs and watch out of the back bedroom window and tell me if I hit the target.”

“Aren’t you going to cook the meatballs first?”

“No, they might disintegrate in flight if I cook them.”

“You’ll give the dog worms, feeding it raw meat.”

“It won’t be worrying about having worms, it’ll be asleep. I don’t think the worms will be too active either.”The Trouble went up to the bedroom and I went out into the back garden. You Twat was howling fit to burst. I’d already been down to the park for half-an-hour’s practice to get my range but even so decided to take the precaution of another practice throw in situ with a large pebble of around the same weight. I took up my position and tossed the pebble into the Pollitt’s garden. The howling increased.

“You’ve hit the dog,” said The Trouble, from the open bedroom window.”

“Good.” Having found my range I then expertly tossed the first of the meatballs. The barking stopped. I looked up to The Trouble. “Did it land in the target area?”

“Yes.”

“What’s happening? Is the dog eating it?”

“It’s sniffing at it.”

I waited a moment or two. “Well?”

“It’s still sniffing at….no, no it’s turned its nose up at it, it’s turned away.”

“Shit.”

“You should have cooked it.”

I had to admit she could be right. After all the meat in tins of dog food is cooked. I decided to leave it for the time being in the hope that You Twat might change its mind and eat it eventually. If it didn’t I’d have another go with a cooked meatball at the next available opportunity.

The barking continued until the Pollitts arrived home so it looks like You Twat continued to ignore the meatball, either that or it ate and its got a stronger constitution than I’d given it credit for.     

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Razzamatazz

Hi. I’m Terry Ravenscroft, I’m aged 67 and…..whoooah, come back, I’m not ready to have the lid nailed down on my coffin just yet. Anyway I’m a very young 67. (About five years ago I went to see Pulp at the Manchester Evening News Arena. I was older than everyone else by at least 35 years. The eighteen-year-old next to me asked me if I’d ever been to the venue before. I replied ‘Yes I saw George Formby here once’. She’d never heard of him.) This blog is going to be about my life and the way I see things. Before I retired I was a comedy scriptwriter for Les Dawson and Smith and Jones amongst others so there’s a sporting chance that some of the things I write will be funny. One of the reasons I’m writing this blog, although by no means the only reason, is because I have a website www.topcomedy.co.uk which I hope you will log on to occasionally. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t like Dear Air 2000…. My hobbies are walking, playing crown green bowls, watching football, birdwatching , cooking, and, according to The Trouble, moaning. Oh, and I have a thing about Kristen Scott Thomas. A couple of people I will be mentioning from time to time are The Trouble and Atkins Down The Road. The Trouble is my wife. I don’t call her The Trouble because it’s cockney rhyming slang for ‘wife, trouble and strife’, but because she has the habit of starting sentences, especially to me, with the words ‘The trouble with you is….’ Then goes on to complete the rest of the sentence with words like ‘you never listen when I’m talking to you’ or ‘you never see the other person’s point of view’ or some such other frivolous complaint. Atkins Down The Road is my best friend and lives, not surprisingly, down the road. I started a weblog a couple of years ago but stopped doing it to write a novel about golf called ‘A Good Walk Spoiled.’ If you want to read the weblog it can be found on my website, if you want to read the novel it can be found on my other website, Razzamatazz, at www.razza.fsnet.co.uk along with lots of other things. Hi. I’m Terry Ravenscroft, I’m aged 67 and…..whoooah, come back, I’m not ready to have the lid nailed down on my coffin just yet. Anyway I’m a very young 67. (About five years ago I went to see Pulp at the Manchester Evening News Arena. I was older than everyone else by at least 35 years. The eighteen-year-old next to me asked me if I’d ever been to the venue before. I replied ‘Yes I saw George Formby here once’. She’d never heard of him.) This blog is going to be about my life and the way I see things. Before I retired I was a comedy scriptwriter for Les Dawson and Smith and Jones amongst others so there’s a sporting chance that some of the things I write will be funny. One of the reasons I’m writing this blog, although by no means the only reason, is because I have a website www.topcomedy.co.uk which I hope you will log on to occasionally. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t like Dear Air 2000…. My hobbies are walking, playing crown green bowls, watching football, birdwatching , cooking, and, according to The Trouble, moaning. Oh, and I have a thing about Kristen Scott Thomas. A couple of people I will be mentioning from time to time are The Trouble and Atkins Down The Road. The Trouble is my wife. I don’t call her The Trouble because it’s cockney rhyming slang for ‘wife, trouble and strife’, but because she has the habit of starting sentences, especially to me, with the words ‘The trouble with you is….’ Then goes on to complete the rest of the sentence with words like ‘you never listen when I’m talking to you’ or ‘you never see the other person’s point of view’ or some such other frivolous complaint. Atkins Down The Road is my best friend and lives, not surprisingly, down the road. I started a weblog a couple of years ago but stopped doing it to write a novel about golf called ‘A Good Walk Spoiled.’ If you want to read the weblog it can be found on my website, if you want to read the novel it can be found on my other website, Razzamatazz, at www.razza.fsnet.co.uk along with lots of other things.

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