Friday, 29 August 2008

Day 384 of Captivity

This week the infidels announced that they were holding a dinner party, I awaited my invitation with glee knowing that they could not fail to invite such an important and prestigious guest as myself, a pure bred Arabian princess, only to discover it was for buffoons only with the exception of my fellow Arab neighbours.  

Last night the Infidels hosted the dinner party.  The neighbours from across the street were on the guest list but the Infidels have got wise to my plans of speaking to them, so they kept me away from them by placing me in solitary for the evening and my chances of engaging in witty repartee and human rights abuses within the prison were dashed.  This solitary confinement may also have something to do with the fact that over the duration of the day they were very busy and somewhat fraught and in order to return their focus on ME, where it clearly belongs, I ate a dish cloth, shredded a sponge, stole and chewed 3 napkin rings and the napkins therein.  I also chased the visiting Infidel around the house a couple of times.  The fat kelb drove me insane pacing incessantly around the house looking gormless.

The infidels and their guests sat down and quaffed a huge feast of tagines and rice, sweets and soup and I was given a manky bone to chew on in the afternoon and 2 dates from one of the guests, a fellow Arab, who took pity on my emaciated form and could clearly see I was starving and ill treated having to contend with living with these irksome Infidels.  My shrill cries for help were ignored all evening as was my rendition of various Bedouin folk songs in my efforts to entertain and be part of this event.

I have taken my revenge today by defecating on the doorstep just outside the back door, much to the irritation of the male infidel.  The kelb has shunned me all day despite my attempts to engage him in a spot of Arabic wrestling.  I remain a prisoner of buffoons.


Barbara M said...

Poor poor brave Stella - the things you have to bear...

Anonymous said...

Fear not Princess as the ifidels power over you is all in their mind. Soon the fatwa will effect the fat one. Oh, and try eating tea bags and dumping in their shoes. Always very effective, especially when they have visitors. An odd "waft" here and there does not go amiss either

Anonymous said...


She was a teenage Saluki
She was best of breed
She was the sweetest Saluki
The spaniel had ever seed.
But even sweetest Salukis Feel that Primeval need.
Sweet on heatest Saluki
Saluki's lookin' all right;
She's found a Borzoi' they might
Just make Bouzoukis tonight.
He played a small part in 'Hair' He played in 'where Beagles Dare'.

Now she's a fallen Saluki
Red light shining over her door
Sad and small and Saluki
just like some Labrador whore.
When they come calling Saluki
She gives French lessons and more...

She dreamed of Bonio Igelsias
But sweet Saluki's alone
She likes the Fabulous Poodles
and Dreams of Simon le Bone.
She sleeps in labradorways
She can't find her way home

Les Barker
Manchester comic poet and singer

Bailey and Tia