It was my Birthday party, and I will cry when I want to

On the 7th of July, It was indeed my Birthday. I have been on this lonely planet now, for approximately just over one year and have unfortunately, not relished every moment or opportunity that has presented itself my way. Indeed, I love mummy, Climber and to some extent even the "foreigners" in my home- Steffu and Ginger "W".

To encapsulate the momentous occasion of my "big first"- indeed I am around twenty-four in feline years, I am going to show you a landmark in Bombonation. To begin with we will discuss the origins of my name. Bombo.

Fig. 1.

 This drum is called- ironically- a "Bombo" drum. I believe it was named after my being, and it originates from Argentina. So, a shout out to all of my followers in Latin America. This drum represents my artistic vision, and indeed raw passion. I am a very passionate cat, enthralled in lethargy. If I could indeed fester enough energy to move, laugh or love, my actions would sound like this beating drum.

Fig.2

This is a musical written by one of my favourite Englishmen Mr Harold Atteridge. Produced and directed on Broadway in 1921, it was somewhat of an ode to the black Al Jolson- like me. It ran for 219 shows. I must stop for a moment, Winston is growling..... 16:24 (I am away and I will return ASAP)

16:59... and was ever so popular amongst all walks of life. I myself dabbled in "Catz"- my musical- and enjoyed every minute of the the production. It was immense, It never hit broadway though, but there is always time.

Bombo is also a town in Uganda. It has a population of 21,000 people, and I refer to all of these people of my "sistaz" or "bruthaz". I have black origins, but I also have a PHD. I feel for the people in Uganda, and if I could do more I would, i just can't be bothered.

Bombo- Railway station- Australia.

Fig. 3

1 platform, 2 tracks, inter-city rail. Enough said. I'm not too fond of Australia and their ancestry. The country is a little tarnished, and they all have blood on their hands- nothing to do with Great Britain, of course.

I thank you for reading my post, I hope to continue with fluidity in future and gather, and hold, some rapprochement with my readers.

Goodnight. Love. Bombo.

As long as I can bleed, I'm pretty much okay

I am currently suffering in some sort of osmosis. I'd like to claim I am in a state of euphoria, but I do not know what this is. I am gratifying myself. I feel light in body and mind, but rather lethargic. My body is drunk, my eyes are heavy. I feel depressed yet at the same time uplifted. I am a new Cat.


"Neutering, from the Latin neuter (of neither sex^[1]), is the removal of an animal's reproductive organ, either all of it or a considerably large part" states the omnipresent and slightly dubious Wikipedia. My version of this orgasmic plethora of bollocks removal is much more brash and idealistic.


Neutering is bullshit. I was taken and caged like a wild rodent by my mummy. She (well actually Steffu) bagged me up- which means tricked me again- and I was carried approximately 4.2 miles. The journey to see Mr vet took around 10 minutes and when I got to this dormitory of abyss a feeling of confusion hit me.


I already knew this place. In the last four weeks i have visited this room three times. Normally I just get high in there, I get my fix before I am treated by mummy afterwards, but this time I was subjected to an atrocity exhibition. Steffu drilled me in the morning discussing with me calmly in my ear that my "gonads would be removed". I had no idea what a "gonad" was, but I soon found out at 11.46am.


The Vet, Witch-Doctor or God performed an act on me with took away my Cancer. I had problems with my testicles. They needed to be removed. Previously, I discussed with mummy that I never wished to have children and she acknowledged my command. We both agreed I would be "performed on" but I had no idea how beastly I would be treated.


I was literally cut open and part of my male body was removed. I have lost my two balls. Winston still has his and I am now afraid he will become "top dog" in my apartment. However, the joke is on him, he could possibly get herpes, chlamydia or the worst of all, have stupid ginger octuplets!


"Sexually dimorphic behaviors such as mounting, urine spraying and some forms of male aggression (relating to females in estrus) may be reduced due to the decrease in hormone levels brought about by neutering. This is an especially significant benefit in male cats due to the extreme undesirability of male cat sexual behavior for pet owners" again I quote the infamous Wikipedia.

To me, the above is an advantage. Steffu told me I am now much better off as now I will not have to deal with "jungle fever" and I can look at female cats (bitches) as normal cats now. My juice levels are much lower and I can deal with my aggression and urges much easier. Now I am an aged cat, just like Malbo. I have ended my clan's family line and I now feel the pain and burden of being the one with no reproductive organ as they cut it off.

I am now recovering. I think I should have maybe slept in that room for much longer. I was told that I urinated myself numerous times in my time of need. A little blood seeped from my bottom area, but it is the feeling of my mind attempting to escape my body that is the real pain.

I am now going to rest in the sack of joy, before I discuss my options of recovery. Obviously, the female side of my race is now out of bounds. I will not flirt or show off around women, as there can now be never any end product for me, which I think they would find a let down.

However, I will remain steadfast, popular and extremely dominant in my apartment. Roll on breakfast time, when I can break my fast and suckle again once more on my precious Felix pouches.

Catz: The Musical.

Starring: Me.

Hence my timidity in recent days, I am now fully flexible and have decided to announce my project to the world. I'm currently attempting to gain access to London's "West-End" or Broadway to attempt to establish some connections for my new muzical. Catz.

Recently, I have began to interpret and analyse the behaviour of Cats. I sit and watch them from my window and I think they are creatures that need to be discussed and analysed, not just scientifically, but also artistically.


We are very "aristocatic" philosophical creatures, to what i think, play for our audiences and adore attention. Me personally, I am a bit of a "doll" and i do belong on the stage. I decided first I will conquer England as I have already succeeded in Scotland as I am born here. I am not interested in Europe as I am an elitist, France has had its day and most of Europe is full of chlamydia.


So, I hear you all ask, what is "Catz" about? Well, to answer your question, it is artistic. It is theatre. A form of art which has been around since the beginning of time, I think them Greeks or whatever they are started it. I'm not too fond of them anyway, they have too many "siestas".


Catz is basically a biography of Cat life. Catz on the street, who live in bins, building sites and so forth who try to survive. I of course do not have these issues, as I have a home, but I will exploit the Cat creatures on the street to gain infamousy. 


I do not want to give anything more away my avid friends, the project needs more work. I'm currently devouring, and indeed deflowering, the script for my main character. Me. However, I am not some street rat or possum, I am an educated, house cat who has everything in his life, so I need to lower my abilities to act like them cat fiends.


More will be enclosed in my next post. 

White riot, I want a riot.

This subordination is relentless. I am hoping to vent my feelings publicly after a recent rapprochement with witless Winston. The little blighter craves attention, and attempts to gratify himself using his paws and childish squeals against my soft, bubble-wrapped head.

On this occasion I won this minor battle. I always win the battle. Winston teases me claiming I am "fatter, bigger and clumsier" and he also states at the end of each encounter that I "may have won the battle, but I [Winston] will win the inevitable war". He scares me due to his idiocy and farting.

Hence, I had to explain this predicament to my reading population, as much like Therapy, this eases my pain and lets me express myself openly- albeit to an unknown audience. I hope you do not mind being my therapist, as i cannot reward you with anything. Even if I did speak to you face-to-face, I could not reward you with any coins, as Mummy and Steffu hold all of my money in "their" banks.

I have recently embodied the trait of "begging". I used to insult Mummy and Steffu, but I realised if i am nice to them (i.e: affectionate) I can get more things to add to my repertoire. I have decided I am going to start my own business, but as stated yesterday to Mummy, I need a car so I can venture and spread the word publicly.

I have no idea as yet what my business, or indeed establishment, will be or what it will consist of. For a while, i flirted with the idea of flyer distribution, as I could just throw these leaflets from my automobile. I decided though, that this was a little adventurous for my first job, plus it required much more effort than 17.5 hours per week.

Then I decided I should maybe go back in to my familiar field of "law enforcement". I have done this before, and I would like to tackle the streets of Glasgow once again, albeit I will no longer tackle Sauchiehall Street, it will most likely be central Glasgow, or the East end. 

I would knock on people's doors, or just holler from my car demanding people to "respond" and "be attentive" to my commands. I am sure they will cooperate with my requests, and obviously if they do not, there will be hell to pay.

I believe more thought needs to go in to my future career in employment, but after my fight with Winston, I feel the buzz to be an enforcer. However, I think I should sleep and dwell on my thoughts, and eventually I should come to a conclusion. 

I could also maybe ask Mummy what she thinks...

WaterSports

Dear Males, Females and Felines,

Today I met with one of my true nemeses. In my bathroom, where I sometimes follow my guardians there are these two contraptions. They appear to release water if turned manually, using force, as I sometimes stare at Mummy when she "turns" it. I think this water-releaser -or "tap"- as it is called is a great invention. It provides life and cleanliness for the human species, and as i found out today, also for the Cat population.

Before i enter in to my "tail" (pardon the pun), I would just like to leave a note here for Mummy or Steffu, it is not private readers so do not worry. Mummy/Steffu will you buy some new fancy, water-releaser(s). I saw these online and i know they will fit nicely in to my bathroom, next to where i poo. (Fig. 1) By the way Mummy/Steffu, this contraption appears more complex than the Devil himself.

Fig. 1

To continue with my tale, today I had poo on my leg and bottom. I heard whispers coming from my carers that a wash was at hand. I did not scarper as i believed that my two human friends would not have actually had the nerve to carry me to the bathroom. However, i was so wrong on this occasion.

I walked in to the bathroom and found myself in a fit of laughterous rapture. I saw ginger Winston being molested by my guardians and forced in to the bath. Of course, like usual, he smelt of faeces (that means "poo" avid readers) and in turn, we all decided he needed a washdown. Mummy deemed the pet "rubdowns" non influential on this occasion, so my nemeses water-givers became the necessity.

 As stated, i sat and sniggered, watching, yet with a sense of waiting also. Winston cried and ran towards the door to exit my bathroom on two occasions, but my human serfs are cunning fellows- as they had shut the door! Again, I looked away in amazement due to the young man's naivity. But then after the crap was washed from his leg and buttocks, i found out i was next.

Ironically, I like the water. But I am not sure if Mummy understands, I only like to "paw" at the water streaming from the tap. The tap is so giving and generous, and on this occasion I found myself soaked through my coat on to my delicate skin. Boy, was I annoyed. The only pleasure that came from this (other than watching idiot Winston) was the fact my red bow got cleansed. But at the same time Mummy was proud of me, Steffu laughed and patted my soft head (he thinks i'm a dog sometimes) and i was told that my bum is nice and clean now. I felt loved.

After our wash I peered at Winston from my box in the corner. The youngster is relentless, much like my old compatriot Dr Squizzles. Both are slightly annoying, and both take up much of my time- in thought and physically. But after my period of philosophical thought - indeed I felt Herodotus's spirit within- my guardians set about pleasing me.

I posted in a previous entry this idea of "guilt". I realised that I can expolit this idiotic human trait to my advantage by acting "hurt" or "affectionate" and then I get what I want. I think I could probably get away with murder, at least in the eyes of Mummy- Steffu is not so forgiving at times, he can be a bit of a hard nut.

But as the guilt set upon them, I realised I could get anything. At one point Mummy was clipping my fur on my "polkuantura" (some foreign word) and sitting by my side was Steffu, who was grooming me with his purple brush. Oh, the delight was heavenly. I felt the warmth and love that i crave ever so often. I believed this moment could have been a little better though. It would have become even better if one of my guardians realised that there was Whiskas : Chicken and Cheese Temptations on the table. They were only about two feet away.

Nevertheless, I suppose I will allow them to be lazy once in a while.

facts.co.ck

Dear minions,

Today i would like to share my information with you all. I apologise for my period of silence. It was not a protest, i only perform dirty protests in my free time, free time is hard to come by these days as i am old and my brain is full of activity.

The information i have gained is essential research and i hope you can incorporate this into your studies or even your dissertations or theses, but please, you must give me recognition as i will copyright this information. This information will be somewhat essential much like Julian Assange's farcical "Wikileak" files.

I) Latin did not exist. This language is a myth and it was never used at any point throughout history. Forget the Romans and so forth. In fact after a heavy session at the computer, the Romans spoke Yiddish and Latin was a language that supposedly gained popularity throughout Europe, even placing itself in Scotland. Forget it, it is incorrect history.

II) Countries all have the beginning prefix attached to them: "Aero. This is because only "Aeroplanes" can take people to different countries. An example of this would be "AeroFrance", "AeroFinland" or even "AeroYemen".

III) Scandinavia only consists of three countries. This is Norway, Sweden and Finland. People argue, but Denmark is actually a German state. Therefore, Denmark is actually part of Northern or Central Europe. This means anyone from Denmark should question their existence in the world, as they do not fully understand where they are from.

IV) Printers are really Gods. Many people would dispute this comment, but a printer is a central hub to anyone's life. It prints essential documents, and distributes knowledge worldwide. Simply put, they are "God"- they control what we read, they allow us to read and also simplify things for us on paper. Indeed, houses of worship will soon be built in their names and one day we may all repent. Facebook and Printers will make a pact in the near future for total dominance.

V) Lenin was Lucifer. To start with both of their names begin with "L"- obviously a connection. More importantly they both have odd beards, and they both attempt/attempted to control people. They both belong to the dark side- one in Hell and the other in Russia. Same place, different era. When Lenin died, he went back to Hell.

VI) English is really called "Scottish". This means people speak "Scottish- Scottish" and "American- Scottish". English was founded in Scotland by William Wallace, but as England is a bigger country they stole the language from us and took it down south. Indeed, the English have smaller brains- around 2.3 inches smaller than a Scottish brain, which means they find it easier to speak in this language then the original mother tongue which was Gaelic.

VII) The most attractive cats come from Malta. This is a fact, in the top three the Maltese cats are the most stunning. On average they have bigger tails, larger whiskers and are more fertile. Scottish cats come second in this hierarchy, and then third are Cats born in the Urals.

VIII) When humans get to the age of 25 years, 7 months and 63 days they can no longer procreate. I was saddened by this, but you cannot change fact or history. To me this seems absurd, and evidently the human population will die out one day. Hopefully my guardians will have children soon, so i will not be left alone when they are "gone".

IX) The "rioting" in Egypt was all a ploy. It was a military act in order for the army to gain dictatorial control over the country. The army in Egypt will exploit its people from now on, until they sell the rights of the country over to the USA as if it was Nestle or Kraft.

X) Soap operas are real life. There is no such thing as acting. When somebody is "filmed" it is by a matter of chance, this is why films always start late in the cinema as it is only a matter of chance that someone is caught on camera. Please don't confuse this statement as it is still a form of "Art", only it is real-life and all the emotions on Eastenders or Emmerdale are in fact true.

I have to run now, the fire alarm in my home just went off. I must go and hide.

With Ravenous Hunger.

This weekend was rather passive. Saturday comes, Sunday goes. Saturday was rather astute and calm, but nothing really happened. On Saturday I just lounged around all day, I ate my food and discussed with myself the weather, the height and weight of my being, magpies and chaffinches as well as reviewing Belle and Sebastian's "Write about Love". It is revoltingly poor by the way, the album not my food or weather.

Steffu left me and his family on Saturday evening to go to that place where he gets money for me, my milk and food. Plus, he uses money from this to keep Winston in good health. Rumour has it, whilst Steffu left for work he bumped in to someone whom i know greatly. She is not British, she is foreign, but i like her anyway, she has a unique smell and puts on a "funny" voice when she communicates with me and ginger Winston, plus mummy likes her which means i am allowed to also- I like her hair.

Mummy dispersed the same evening and returned (drunk) about three hours later. I smelt my other friends this evening, even though i never met them. A man, an English man, he smells of Southern England. They all smell the same down there and i immediately concluded he was from Kent. The other one who mummy went out with was a woman, she was foreign. I think she was from the "Scandinavian" breed. That same night me and my feline brother were given chicken to feast upon.

It was only in the morning of the Sunday that the fun and games began. As i have stated before i am now old and sometimes weak, and i have also realised maybe timid and scared quite easily. My nerves are not as strong as they used to be. I began to feast on the chicken in the early hours of the morning, just as Steffu returned, however i was scared out of my wits. Winston began to dominate our eating area, and he growled and hissed at me with my chicken dangling from his mouth. He hid the chicken and ran away from me with it. I was more interested as to why he was so aggressive towards me, i did not want the chicken i had already eaten, but God, i feared for my life for a few moments.

Nonetheless, i heard discussions in the other room, and henceforth we will both have a plate each when it comes to us easting fresh meats. I think that is very responsible of my guardians, as i want to eat in peace and i do not want to be terrified out of my wits by my friend Winston ever again. After this incident we spoke and managed to come to an arrangement, then afterwards i bullied him a little and it made me feel like a big cat again.

In the evening though i had a particular delight, one which i think mummy set up for me. She finally allowed me to meet some of my own breed, i met a Scottish man. He seemed nice, he held me in his big Celtic arms and i felt warmth, he even kissed me a little. Finally, a real man in my presence, he was one of "us" and i felt extremely comfortable around him, i even slept next to him for a while with Winston in his bed. I attempted to soothe his aching leg.

I think i helped him, just as i am helping Winston each day of his miniscule life.