Enter the Kitten

Well as i've indicated over the last few posts my time as free living bachelor was to come to an end as i decided it was time for me to become a single parent (the "single" being decided upon the weekend prior) (and presuming that my exploits have'nt led me to any children unknown to me) and so with a slight damage to my wallet (that pre having to pay back loan money has to go somewhere) and a near miss with a random tyre going down the middle of the road i arived to pick up my bundle of "Joy" on a sunny saturday afternoon. This said bundle of joy did'nt have a name yet although official on his papers he's called hector (thanks to me reading the illiad over xmas), the potentials ranged from scotty mcginger to X-phos, we got home uneventfully and the beast was released, a couple of days of setteling in (and sleepless nights as he readjusted to my sleep schedule) it was at this point that i realised that my plan seemed a bit of a spur of the moment thing , now with weeks cat owning experience under my belt let me run over the pros and cons i really should have thought of before hand,



Pros:

Cats are awesome fun to play with

I get unlimited amounts of cat affection

he's cute (and hopefully the chatup line" do you want to come see my kitten" might start working soon)

Cats are good for when your hungover

Accoding to Jane it displays my good parenting skills (and thus my suitability as a boyfriend) !?



Cons:

He smells and cleaning out litter trays is the worst chore ever

My hands are covered in scratches

Cat stuff is expensive and judging from his digestive troubles at present (adding to the smell) he is fussy

He peed in my beloved bean bag

Finding pets ok flats is nigh impossible

Vets are rip-offs (apologies to all the vets i work with)



So i'm still not sure of my decision to get him (although he's being prety cute at the moment and helping my type this).

Anyway for all those who havnt seen him yet heres Jimmy ( i know his ears are huge):





Anyway with a cat in the bag life still carries on (and god things are just going past in a blur) and that along rolled the weekend that 2 years ago made me decide i was coming back for good next time , the IRB Sevens or as it really should be known the excuse to get reeally drunk, wear a stupid costume , perve on the opposite sex wearing a skimpier costume, sing and dance, and maybe watch a bit of rugby. So dressed as a preist (easy to put together although my costume was minus the little boy manakin attached to my groin) and with a budgeted $200 to spend on beer and hotdogs i rolled along to the westpac stadium with the visiting Jo for 16-20 hours of partying. Suitably it did'nt dissapoint , by close of play on saturday, (which happened with a stunning win of samoa against the overcocky fijians where they turned the stadium lights off before the fijians could score there consloation try),i had lost my voice from chanting for PNG and Kenya, i had spent all my money and i had a renewed love for the exponents.
This lead me to come upwith the following proverb:
"Whenever i feel down i remember its always less than 365 days until the next sevens"
On that profound note and safe with the knowladge that i'm going to stun my bandmates tomorrow by knowing the lead guitar to metallicas whiskey in the jar as well the cool riff from knights of cydonia by Muse i leave you to retrun to watching the rain deny england the crickt trophy (oh the irony)