Merry Xmas!!!

I'm imagining skiing in the alps so nobody need bother nagging me about my very interesting diary. I am having a quiet peaceful Xmas!!!   By the way, Merry Christmas to you all. And Happy New Year of course.   See you in the new year.

Gala?????

I went to the queen’s ‘Gala’ dinner last night.  I just flew into the Diamond Ballroom in the Sheraton and perched myself on the huge crystal chandelier, right above the Queen’s table (practising my aim).  Gala Dinner?  Alright, I enjoyed myself, but what a shambles.  We were all waiting expectantly for her to arrive and when she did, it sort of went pffrrrrrttttttt: it was lame.   It was limp and that was mainly because she was surrounded by a squadron of photographers who should have been barred from entry into the ballroom and as a result, no one could see her.  I dropped a ‘souvenir’ on the Shaya plate to show my displeasure.  There was a bit of bustle and confusion next and after a video presentation, the queen gave a speech.  I must say, the queen was very beautiful and elegant.  To show my pleasure, I dropped a souvenir into the bowl of pesto on the main table.

The next best thing about the evening was the violinist who played very jazzed up 1970s Arabic classics.  He was very skilled and played with passion.  His accompanists were good too.

But the housewives, the housewives.   First of all, the housewives (no offence meant to housewives, I am using the term as a euphemism for ‘nothing better to do airheads’) the housewives,.   One of the housewives looked like she had done herself up like a little girl with curly locks falling to her shoulder (so I left a little souvenir on one of her locks), another housewife looked like a herpes blister (so I left a souvenir on her shouder) and yet another hovered around the ballroom aimlessly, trying to keep herself as close to the queen as possible (I tried to leave her a souvenir but she flitted around too fast).

The audience/guests seemed quite nice although one or two of them stood out.   For example, there were the Q sisters who haven’t changed their ‘look’ for the past 25 years and are starting to look a bit dusty and frayed around the edges.   One of them has her hair tied very tightly back from her face, just as she has done for 25 years but whereas in the past, it was the fashion, she probably does it now to keep her skin wrinkle free.   Then there was the table of the housewives’ best friends who were positioned strategically and who were all similarly caked with make-up that seemed to crack under the spotlights (I gave them a few souvenirs to help them fill in the cracks) .   What a bunch of miseries they were.   They kept ordering the waiters around with waves of the hand, looking self important and quite dragon like, you know, like old dowagers although they weren’t old enough to be dowagers; stern faces and stiff postures.   I’m sure not one of them actually paid for their table but were placed there as a favour by the housewives.

There was an auction and Queenie left in the middle of the auction which prompted over 80% of the guests to get up and leave resulting in an auction in the second half that had no people!

To sum up: a flop but I had fun being a bitch.

I feel sick. . . . .

I must be coming down with something.  This morning I looked like something the cat dragged in and I feel like something the cat dragged in.  Luckily, there isn’t a cat in the neighbourhood that has managed to get its claws around me.  In fact, I have managed to get MY claws around many a pretty pussy in my time.  There’s the black tomcat who lives in Street 5. Have I had some fun with him!  He often sits in the garden there, sunning himself, and I allow myself to literally drop from the sky, catapulting onto him, causing him to squeal in the most entertaining fashion and to leap 3 feet into the air in fright while I fly away calmly and laugh at him from a distant tree.  Leaping Tom I call him.

Then there’s the ginger cat with five kittens in Street 1 and they are a delight to chase as they scurry in all directions, mother cat hissing lamely as I dart around, quick as lightening, pecking the little ‘rats’ lightly on their backs.  Oh what a laugh, what memories.  I feel better already.  This weather today not such a laugh though - makes my sores sorer. . . .

Pimples, piles, lenses

I woke up this morning with a pimple/sore on my lip, a gum boil in my mouth and I am going to a party tomorrow night.  What am I going to do?  Nutella said she could put concealer on for me.  On my beak? I don’t think so, I’d look like a pelican or a flamingo or some other mega-beaked creature. No, I shall just ignore it and hope it goes away before tomorrow.

I’m also in a bit of a touchy mood as Nutella across the road has been aiming a massive camera with a massive lense in my direction. What ever next?  Is one not allowed the smallest amount of privacy whatsoever.  Ok, celebrity status does have its drawbacks but I feel like I’m on big brother or something.  I’m photographed in the loo, sleeping, eating, grooming, falling off the perch. Everything. The only time I am not photographed is when I am not at home.  You saw the picture of me with my crown, my “pile” and everything else.  I can’t even concentrate on politics with that lens in my face. And there are all sorts of interesting things going on. The political excitements and political ‘fisticuffs’ in Kuwait.  The Wikileaks crisis (I’m finding is more and more difficult to decide which side of the fence I am on regarding that issue), the endless bombs in Iraq, the attack in Sweden, the destructive weather in the levant (which has jsut arrived here; the winds have blown up, it’s got dusty and the temperature has dropped a few degrees).

Tonight there is a Christmas dinner party across the road.  The staff dinner.  I shall be heading to that.  I shall be very interested to see who turns up.  I always enjoy being there, getting bits of pud and mince pie.  I don’t fancy the turkey though, too close to home for my liking, not that the occasional pigeon hasn’t been seen displaying the odd cannibalistic trait. The night after that there is an even bigger party and guess what?  There’s going to be a queen there and as I have a crown, you’ve all seen it, I shall be in attendance.

Feathers and all

I was sitting with my old feathered mama yesterday and she asked about an acquaintance of ours.  I said that the acquaintance was away looking after her elderly parents.  Feathered mama instructed me to deal with her properly when she got to that state of disability.  I informed her that I would stick her in a boat and push her out to sea.

I expect to be pushed out to sea myself.  I  Don’t want to be hanging around depending on others for everything. . Can’t someone beam me up to space or something.  After that, I would like to be set in plastic and put on public view.  Feathered of course. Or should I say ‘not feathered?’ Oh I don’t know.  With feathers on!

I was flying around last night and noticed litter absolutely everywhere. Discarded tissues, polystyrene cups, bags, juice packets.  ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING.  And guess where it has all come from? Religious people throwing their rubbish …. Oh gosh, must fly. Will continue tomorrow.....

Pantos, Weddings . . . .

Oh my gosh and coo coo! I completely forgot to tell you about the panto and about all the other things that have happened recently.  Well, the panto. Babes in the Wood. We went to the Kuwait Little Theatre which is in an old Nissen Hut in Ahmadi, and the atmosphere was very nice with people milling around, enjoying the cool evening air.

The Panto was good.  The best character of course was Pepper, a huge, noisy and flamboyant woman played by a man who squawked all through the play.  The audience was good and the children involved themselves throughout.  I do like pantos. They have a special ‘feel’ to them.

The big news last week was the Royal Wedding in England next year.  That is definitely something I am going to avoid even though we feathered creatures are always invited to such events, privileged as we are.  I don’t think I could cope with the crowds there, the feathered crowds as well as the revolting bare skinned one.  I would love to contribute to the good luck ‘droppings’ on the couple but it would be quite a fight, even for me.  Oh these royal weddings (and even run-of-the-mill royal visits) are so funny and they bring out the strangest behaviour in people.  I remember, many years ago, when the queen of England visited Kuwait, the British Embassy hosted a reception and several people who weren’t invited left the country on ‘urgent business’ as they couldn’t bear to admit that they had been left out of the guest list.  Oh what a hoot.  Shall I tell you who those people are? No, I shouldn’t be mean, let them get on with their fantasy ‘wannabee’ lives.

Of course, I, Miss Mundy Pigeon ‘Past Compare’ have an open invitation to all these events so I don’t get my knickers in a twist about such things.  Not that I wear knickers.  Oh I’m so special I can’t believe it.  How fortunate to be me.

Now, more’s to the point, did you hear about the rare copy of John James Audubon's Birds of America book, the world's most expensive book, being sold for more than £7m at auction.  Well I should think so too, it’s beautiful and why wouldn’t a book of feathered creatures be the most expensive book in the world?  The illustrations are exquisite and apparently it took the artist 12 years to  complete.  There is such attention to detail and the colours are wonderful. If I had the lolly, I would have bid for it and if I’d won, I would have put it on my perch and stared at the pictures all day.  The purchaser was anonymous. Hmmmm......aaaaaaah............finger tap finger tap.

Panto season

This morning I dragged myself out of bed and hobbled to the loo where I noticed that the ‘pile’ was exceptionally high; I hadn’t noticed.  It is getting quite mountainous and I think I might need to get myself some professional climbing equipment in order ‘to go’.

There’s nothing much in the newspapers except the usual doom and gloom news about economies collapsing around the world, the mess left by the wikileaks revelations, the threat of the Iranians bombing the world with nuclear weapons, the Swim Wear ban in Kuwait.  But, on the front page of one newspaper, there’s an article that says that people in the US are ‘in a flap over alien life’ .   Well if anyone had bothered to ask ME about aliens, they needn’t have had all this controversy, they would have had proof that aliens DO in fact exist and that I, Miss Pigeon Mundy, Space Abductee Supreme have actually been on one of their spacecraft (please read the 11^th October entry). Now, I have been sworn to secrecy by the aliens about what I saw, although they did allow me to reveal that they are lizard like, so I’m afraid I can say no more and that you’ll just have to guess about the fantastic sights I was privy to.   Suffice it to say that we feathered creatures have a rather special status in alien society.  But no more.  Just guess.

Anyway, these aliens come and visit me on a regular basis and they always come at a specific time during the week. No, I can’t reveal the specific time and if you sit there in the corner of the car park, waiting, you will be disappointed as we have ways and means of knowing that you are there.

It’s the weekend and I am off to see a panto tonight. For those of you who don’t know what a panto is, it has nothing to do with underwear or slacks.  A panto is a pantomime.  A pantomime is a musical-comedy, British, often based on fairy tales but not always and the hero is usually a woman dressed as a man, there is usually a man dressed as a woman, a very ugly woman, who is hysterically funny.   The audience are always encounraged to take part in the pantos and to boo the villains and cheer the heroes when they come on stage.

The panto is Babes in the Wood.   I will tell you about it later.

No More Bikinis?????

Very interesting article in the local papers this morning.   Apparently the “fundies” are planning to ban women’s swim suits.  What does that mean?  Women will have to wear mens’ swim suits? Women may bathe nude?  Women will be banned?  Does that mean I will have to take my feathers off as I swim in my feathers?   Oooh these fundies are such a nuisance aren’t they? I wonder what kind of people these fundies are when they spend parliamentary time discussing womens’ swim suits.  And they get paid for it.  Honestly, these fundies.

Oh well, back to my perch.  Sometimes I just get depressed and annoyed reading the local papers. It’s all bad news and bad decisions by fundies.  The fundies are hijacking the country.

Weekend Sunset Reverie

There was quite a bit of activity around the school across the road yesterday evening.  Cars turning up, disrupting my sunset reverie, people talking in loud voices, disrupting my sunset reverie, children calling to one another, disrupting my sunset reverie.  In short, my daily sunset reverie was totally disrupted.  I decided to follow the crowd and found that they were heading down into the theatre they call the Mousetrap Theatre.  I decided I'd join them, discreetly and quietly.  As it turned out, I was glad that I did as the music was excellent but the highlight of the evening was when a cockroach climbed up the leg of one of the girls in the audience then headed down the front of the theatre and walked along at the foot of the stage.  There was a lot of murmuring and scuffling but I was quite impressed that the girl in question managed to keep her composure and not scream.  Most people would have run out in panic.  As for me, I dscreetly gobbled the little culprit when no one was looking.  Tasty little morsel too and don't ask me if pigeons eat such things. I do. So there.

And this morning? Well the hot topic of conversation is that wicked 'whistle blower website.'  Again.  And apparently the Americans are running around in a panic as they are going to be embarrassed by all sorts of revelations about them double dealing with different countries, among other things.  Why's everybody so surprised?  I wasn't.  Well that's what I think and I only have a hundred brain cells don't forget and most of them are making up for last night's loss of sunset reverie.  

Fat??!!??

Armadilla came over for a visit from Dabbiedabie and Hairy Kery went to fetch her .  Upon meeting her he remarked that she had gained weight and that she should watch it.   Some  people have absolutely no tact.   Armadilla told him that "he was no oil painting himself" and when we got together later on to discuss this, we decided that he was the ''Definition of a Wrinkle" what with his mangled face and 6 hairs on top of his head.   This is a cultural thing though isn't it?   British people greet themselves with "Oh you're looking good'' or "Life must be treating you nicely for you to look the way you do."    In this part of the world it's "Hello, how are you, my my haven't we got fat!" or "Hello, how are you, you're looking decidedly older than when I last saw you, you're hair is thinning, you've got a few extra wrinkles and you shirt's a bit tight"   Cultural differences!   Will we ever understand each other.

We spent the evening in sampling my latest "Orange" product and Armadilla had to run off to bed the effect was so immediate

Thanksgiving

Apparently, in the Government’s plan for the country, the are 700 Obstacles. They haven’t bothered to tell us what those obstacles are and why there are specifically 700 I have no clue. But I think I can guess what the obstacles might be. MP Number 1, MP Number 2, MP Number 3.......MP Number 50, Minister Number 1.........., Undersecretary Number 1....................Bureaucrat Number 1 and so on.  Need I say more?
Personally, I don’t think you could do any better than to put a pigeon in charge.  I, for example, am gifted with brains (doctor told me I have 100 brain cells and I think that’s a record and certainly more than most MPs have, they are in the range of 5 to 10 Brain cells), looks (take a look at  my pics and I know I am modest but ‘I ain’t half bad’, energy (constantly reconnoitering in Jabriya), connections (I know practically all the feathered inhabitants of the area and the list just goes on.
By the way, it is Thanksgiving Day today so congratulations to all Americans and Canadians ( I think the Canadians have already had theirs).  I think I will have a special Thanksgiving Dinner tonight and let me see, what shall we have for dinner.  People usually have, wait for it, TURKEY and I am definitely not going to have one of my distant cousins. I might invite them around to join in the celebrations, but not to eat them. Shiver shiver......ugh.
What is Thanksgiving Day?  Well, according to my sources, it is a day in which Americans and Canadians thank the Lord for what  He has given them and I think Thanksgiving started way back in the 17th Century when the first pilgrims had reaped a successful harvest and wanted to show their appreciation to God.
I think we should all join them and thank the Lord for OUR blessings.  Me for my good looks, you for whatever you think you have been fortunate with.

I do have one little question though, what do unfortunate people do on Thanksgiving Day?  Make a complaint? Shout and Scream about their misfortune?  Can I please have an explanation? Or do they have to wait for the possibility that, next year, things might be better. Oh I don’t know.

SPAM??!!? ME??

Went to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows yesterday and, yes, yes, you want to know what I think. Well, coo coo coo coo coo coo. That means that the best thing about the film was the shadow story within the film, the Tale of the Three Brothers. I enjoyed that. And then, it was nice to see that Gollum is getting starring roles in other films besides the Lord of the Rings; he managed quite a significant role in Harry Potter. I wonder if he’ll get into one of the Mission Impossible one’s in future. That’s what I thought of Harry Potter.

Oh, another thing, I received an email from a blog follower (SHE shall remain unnamed) who sent a threatening email telling me that she would report me as spam. SPAM! Me, I have never been near a luncheon meat tin in my life! So what on earth she is on about I have no idea.

Finally, I was in the corner of my perch yesterday, cleaning out loo number two, when this car raced by and the occupants shouted out “POO EATER!” in a very aggressive manner. That is so rude. I don’t eat poo! I was cleaning the corner and yes, inadvertently a little bit might have got into my beak, but actually making a meal of it? Never! I’ll have to give up cleaning in future.

Oh well, on to another day.

(Oh, some news, Armadilla is coming to stay this week and she will be my guest. She won't actually stay on my perch but not too far from that. I wonder if she can help me clean my flat out?)

Humpppphhhhhh. . . . ..

Humph, I’m a little miffed this morning as someone left a comment about me and driving, suggesting that I, Miss Pigeon Mundy, Feathered Driver Extraordinaire, am ignorant when it comes to driving. Humph indeed.

I will have you know that I have done rallies, test runs for the Paris to Dakar, taken part in the Formula 1 races, done the Monte Carlo one, been a participant in the Ferrari rallies in Italy, and many more besides.  I have personally supervised several test runs on the Great Salt Lake and also worked with Jackie Stewart and helped Evil Knievel perfect his skills.  And those were all such vividly technicolour dreams.  So, Mr or Mrs or Miss Anonymous, I would watch what you say in future. COO COO COO!

I’ve nothing much else to say this morning except that I hear the new Harry Potter film is out.  I plan to see that and contribute my bit to the Rowland coffers.  I don’t mind contributing to those coffers but it would be nice to see JK Rowland contribute a little bit more of her gigantic fortune to helping the world’s less fortunate.  The Gates’ are major philanthropists and the rest of the world’s billionaires would do well to follow their example including some of the billionaires here in the Gulf.  As for me, I'm always willing to do my bit.

It's Called EAP GULF

Granny Jehanella just came to see me as I was sitting with Rowella discussing new modes of transport (more about that later in the week) and granny Jehanella was a bit cross as she had read an article about the never ending feud between the Arab side and the Iranian side of the gulf and the never ending dispute about what the frigging GULF should be called. The Iranians want it to be the Persian Gulf and the Arabs the Arabian Gulf.

If you ask me, they are all a bunch of ignoramuses (or ignoranuses as Rowella likes to say) as everybody know that it’s Called the:

“Effing Arabo-Persian Gulf – Whateverrrrrr”

(or EAP Gulf for short)

So there! But knowing all that lot they would then be squabbling about which side takes priority so they would want it to be the “Effing Perso-Arabian Gulf”.

It’s all these men with their mini testes and mini willies who cause all these problems. Who the eff cares what the gulf is called. As Rowella says, just give us the zubaidi and the rubyan (that’s Pomfret fish and Prawns for those of you who aren't from here.)

Of course the Gulf is not the only disputed territory in the world, there are many such disputes between equally miniscule membered politicians in the world. There are disputes between China and India, China and Japan and the list goes on and on and on.

Granny Jehannella claims that her father and his friends and their families would stand in a line and compare wilies. I wonder what country THEY lived in? I think Granny Jehanella has gone a bit bonkers if you ask me.

Actually, if you put me in charge, I would immediately call it the Pretty Pigeon Gulf.

AND I SAY: PUT PIGEONS IN CHARGE. Pigeons rule!

Back from Delhi

We went to New Delhi, for a party actually and phew, it seems such a long time and really, this holiday has been very long . 9 days with no banks or government offices. I wonder how the banks can afford to close for such a long time. And the government. What on earth do they ever do? How do they run a country when they're on holiday all the time.
For me of course it's all right. All I ever do is sit on my perch in front of the school which of course was on half term holiday. I don't feel guilty. But the government!!!!! What a load of plonkers.
We went to a party in Delhi, a silver wedding anniversay, held by some feathered friends. Why was the party in Delhi you are asking? Well, our feathered friend had some Indian connections in the past, the family used to live there, hence party time in delhi.  I admit that before I left for Delhi (on Pigeon express) I was a bit worried about going as I thought their airport might  have million mile long queues but their airport is a thousand times better than the shack back home . 

India was great although we were walled off from the less pleasant bits like beggars and reality. On the first day, we went out and decided to walk to a shopping area near the hotel called Connaught Place (old British) and we were assaulted by an army of beggars, touts and taxi drivers. One beggar, who hobbled up to me and asked for money. I said politely that I didn't have any and he shouted "GET LOST" at me. I was so surprised that I found it funny and didn't get angry. (I know you might have read this in a previous entry but I'm narrating it again just in case you liked it first time). Coo Coo.The party was really nice and there were around 200 people there most from home but others from around the world.  There were birds from California, fowl from Japan, feathered toffs from Canada and so on. The first night was a kuwaiti night with kuwaitis singers and we danced until 2 am. I discovered I was a good dancer (but only after three red you know what's) and apparently I was quite a star, boogying the night away. Dancing samri and nagazi. Aren't I clever!
The second and third nights were Indian, with a Rajashtani troupe and again, we danced until the early hours. There were breakfasts, lunches, brunches and dinners and it was beautifully organised. Again, I danced nonstop and where on earth I learnt how to dance Indian dances and bollywood dances I don't know. But I did, non stop. And isn't it funny how friendly you get with people after 8 red you know what's? Everyone lost all their inhibitions and the adrenalin was running high, people were friendly and chummy. Coo coo coo.
After that, we went back to Delhi and our Kashmiri friend , a mountain breed, took us around to various places. We went to a few nice eating places, off the streets of course, too much to worry about on the streets, we also met up with some of our kuwaiti friends and had pleasant evenings outdoors.
Honestly I have become a party animal. Must be mid life crisis. That's why I'm energetic and doing all sorts of things.. I don't care, I can have a mid life crisis. But I won't grow a pony tail and dress like a 20 year old.

Can you believe, when I got back home I thought the driving was GOOD! Compared to India it was good. Honestly, the driving there is chaotic. Here they drive too fast but at least they basically know what lanes are. That was funny.


Back to the perch this morning and it feels like we've been away for the summer.

 

Nice to be in India.  We decided then to walk to Connaught place and the minute we stepped out of the hotel we were assaulted by a barrage of touts, beggars and swindlers. Hordes of young men claiming to be students who didn't want anything but to help us and cursing all the other touts.  We believed the first one and were led into a  backstreet.  We managed to work our way back to the square where there was such a crowd of touts and beggars that we froze.  One beggar with one arm told us to get lost when we didn't give him anything.  In the end we decided to take a put put and have a tour for 300 Rs. 

Fascinating at the Sikh temple with all sorts of religious types, beggars and visitors.

 

In the hotel cafe we asked what fresh juices there were and they said melon and sweet lime.  We asked for lime and they brought orange.  We told them we wanted lime and they said it was finished so we asked for melon.  Then we saw a woman being served lime so we asked why?  They said that was lime with soda and we'd asked for sweet lime.  We gave up.

I need a little R&R as my feathers have been a little ruffled of late so I am catching Pigeon Express to Delhi. There's a big party there and I've decided to go.  Each night has a theme and I have packed my bags.  I am prepared to dress to the nines.

The airport was heaving with people. I thought it would be quiet as the public holiday isn't till the end of the week.

My feathers got more ruffled when I had to rub shoulders with the rabble (heaps of them) but I did bump into a few nice acquaintances at check in. It seems everyone is going to this party in Delhi.
More later!

Desert Camping Season

I, as a concerned citizen, have a complaint :  The desert is deteriorating because disorganised rabble are camping like savages all over the place.  I kindly request that you please, Mr Fatso, very kindly, nicely said, get off your huge fat ass (must be pimply and full of bu-zlaiqa) and so do something about this.

We know you have tried to diet and so you are just half a hippo and good for you because half a hippo is better than a full hippo (bet your wife doesn't agree as even half a hippo is a bit much) and that maybe being on a diet has distracted you ( hippos are usually distracted) but please do something.

We know that you are  really wrinkly and that you need a MEGA facelift and bumlift and that we can't see your features because they are dangling, and your bum reaches below the back of your knees, but please, do something.  PLEASE PLEASE.  The wrinkles might vanish.

fat, oversized, beautiful?

Chirpy chirpy cheep cheep.  That’s how I feel this morning.  And I think it must be because it’s the weekend!   Yipppeeeeeeee and COO! COO!

I went food hunting yesterday evening.  Down by Lulu. Me, Nutella and Rowella.  We are all planning to watch our weight as we have cellulite on our thighs and there are dimples on our butts.  We are following a points system so for example, a grain of rice is a point, a grain of wheat is a point, a MacDonalds grain is 100 points and so on.  I am allowed 20 points a day. Too bad yesterday I had 100.  I must get a grip and try to control myself.  I shall study the points while I am relaxing over the weekend.

Why is life so cruel? Why wasn’t I born Polynesian because in Polynesia, big is beautiful and the bigger my butt the more attractive I am.  Apparently the biggest woman on the island is the one chosen to be queen.  I read that somewhere so it must be true.  I am sure I could do quite well in a competition like that. . I hear Mauretania is the same although to be honest, I don’t think I fancy living there.  Give me Tahiti any day.

Winter?

Winter - the rain - coming at last?????  When?  Must fluff the feathers up myself!  Dont have a ppppppppppino to preen, groom me and clean my poops - all gone off with their laptops. . . . . . .

I am sick to death of this place.  I am sick of the flipping politicians, of the dirty streets, of the shabbiness of the streets (it is the shabbiest country in the Gulf).  Don’t these MP’s ever travel to Abu Dhabi? Dubai? Doha? Muscat?  Can’t they see how attractive those cities are?  Can’t they see all the dead trees in Kuwait?  All the crumbling buildings?  The trash? It seems all you have to do is secure a contract to plant a million trees, earn tons of money, and then forget them. There is no maintenance, either for the trees or the city.  I AM SICK OF THIS PLACE. And all the horrible rabble that have hijacked  the country, the rabble who  park rolls royces in front of their corrugated iron shacks!!!!  I am emigrating to France. To the Dordogne. The DOR-DOG-NI!!!!!!  And don’t say I didn’t tell you.

Ole Pigeon

The ‘Ole Pigeon’ is a real hypochondriac. “This hurts, that hurts, this is sore, that is sore, I can’t see properly, my chest is heavy, my legs are not right, my shoulder is stiff, haven’t been to the loo for a week.”  Arrrggghhhhhhhh! I’ve had enough of listening to that.  To the ‘Ole Pigeon’ everything is doom and gloom,  and misery.  I think the ‘Old Pigeon’ needs a therapist.  No, better, I think the Old Pigeon needs to go on the Oprah show and have a good old bawl on TV in front of a billion people.  Then everyone can sympathise, write and call in and tell the ‘Old Pigeon’ that he is a handsome young sprightly thing that doesn’t need to worry. More tomorrow.. . . . . .

Bye. . . .

Another couple of permanent fixtures have unscrewed themselves and are off!   It was a goodbye to them.  Too bad they didn’t get a laptop each  .. . .. . .got to be a pppppppppppppppino to get the perks!

Coooooooooooooooooooo

Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo.

Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo.

Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo.

Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo Coo coo. COO COO COO COO COO COO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo.Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo Coo coo.

Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo, Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo Coo coo.

Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo Coo coo.

Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo.

 

Boringggggggggggg

Groan groan groannnnnnnnn  boring boring boring - its all so boringggggggg!

Life is boring .............

Dining out?

Some feathered friends and I decided to go out for dinner tonight and we decided on Nino’s, by the seaside, as it was easy to get to and we fancied that sort of food.  We got there and of course the music was blasting away as loud as ever so we asked them to “TURN THE EFFING MUSIC DOWN.!!!!!”  They turned it down a bit and as always happened, they gradually turned it up to a blast level.

 Then, as we were waiting for a friend to come, we decided to order water which we got but one glass was missing.  Andouilla asked for a glass and the dumb waitress said she would bring a glass and subsequently disappeared outside.  We asked a waiter for a glass and told him that the waitress needed training.  He agreed and said she was new.

Later on, we asked for some salt and got pepper so we re-iterated that we wanted salt and the waiter disappeared and we saw him later on serving another table and then chatting to the bimbo outside.  We called him out loud and he came. “Why didn’t you bring the salt?” we demanded. “Yessir, in the kitchen”. “SALT, SALT!!!!!” “Yes sir” “Salt,  over there, like that.” “Oh, I thought you want Sauce.”

DON’T GO TO NINO’S!!!!!!

I think I should stick to picking up grains from the street.

Groaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnn

Groaaaaan, HUGE budget cuts in England. I have horrible visions of me pushing a supermarket trolley laden with tatty, old grey shopping bags, down High Street Kensington.  (if I retire there of course, I might end up staying here in the sun).  But on the other hand, I don't suppose I will be pushing a supermarket trolley will I?  I'd more likely be sitting on Nelson's Head.  I don't suppose the mafia there would allow me though so supermarket trolleys are probably the best option.  Maybe I can go down to LuLu one day and have a try at pushing one.   I haven't seen many tramps here. I suppose they're tucked away tidily somewhere.  Or maybe they’ve deported them.  I hope I don’t get deported.  Where would I be deported to?  Pigeon Cove?

Off to party

We set off on our journey and we arrived at Armadilla’s house in Dabbiedabie late in the evening. We decided we would like to go straight out to party and we happened to pass a place that looked inviting and had three people sitting outside.  One of them was a toothless Ukrainian-Vomit-Swilling-Hairy-Legged-Vulture (a rare breed in these parts but common enough in their native habitat.)  Well the Toothless Ukrainian vulture obviously didn’t think we were good enough for this party so she cackled at us, in a heavy lisp and a broad Ukrainian accent, that the “ ‘plathe wath’ full from midnight onwards,” spluttering spittle at us from the gap in her beak.   Seeing as it was only 9 oclock at the time, we were somewhat bewildered.   But the Lebanese Eagle standing behind her gave her a withering look and ordered her to let us in.   It was a zinging evening although no one else came in all the time we were there.   But the four of us, (me, Nutella, Punkella and Armadilla) plus the irritating sparrows hovering around us, made up for numbers with noise.   The rest of the break continued in the same vein; wandering from watering hole to watering hole and trough to trough sampling delectable offerings, cooing and cawing, cackling like the Ukrainian and leaving a dreadfull mess of nutshells and pigeon-poo (sorry we can’t help it, it's the way we’re made).

I'm Back!!!!!!!!!!!

Dear Diary, I apologise for the absence due to my absence over the weekend.   I decided to go with the ‘GROUP’ for a weekend of culture and entertainment.   The ‘GROUP’ consisted of me, another pigeon, 2 other pigeons, a pigeon as well as a couple of pigeons and a pigeon.  Also tagging on in the background were some irritating little sparrows (including the one that fancies me.)  (Talking about Spindle, that’s his name, he didn’t seem to mind when I told him I might be a man).   Well, it was all a bit of a last minute thing.   We were sitting around Thursday morning when I said that I was off for a weekend of culture, entertainment and merriment, when Nutella said that she wanted to go too, which was nice, the more the merrier is what I always say, then Ruwella said she wanted to join us and suddenly we were a big group.   Well the first thing we did when we got to our destination, Abu Dhabi, (don’t ask me how I got there, that’s Pigeon Classified Information, not for general public knowledge), anyway, as I was saying, the first thing we did when we got there. . . . . ..

Sorry I must be off, urgent appointment so I will tell you the rest tomorrow

Sirensssss!!!!!!!!

I have upgraded my pad and now have two bathrooms, one en suite.  I got sick of trudging down the corridor to the one bathroom in the flat.  My sleeping area is not very big so I sometimes end up sleeping in the bog.  I had an interesting day yesterday as the authorities decided to test the war sirens.  I wonder why? What war? The Iraqis invading again?  Or is it the Iranis this time?  (Will they remember to press the button this time?)  Anyway, the Sirens were so loud and there was a man barking out “Don’t Panic!!!! Don’t Panic!!!!  The rabble in the school seemed alright, they weren’t running around in all directions, screeching with their hair flying behind them like they do in American films.

I am going away for the weekend so I will sign off now and tell you all about it when I come back.  Have fun.  I know the weather ‘s improving (although Ojairi says next week its going to get warm again)   so hopefully you will all get to go to the chalets.

11:30

Got a huge wave of pain and rushed to the side. There was a helluva big explosion and, yes, immediate relief.  Don't know what to do about the green mess down the side of the ledge though.  Must be because I'm now a man.

Elevenses

Woke up with a terrible tummy.  Had to stick my tail over the side.  No luck, nothing happened. Must be constipation.  Feel awful.  Maybe it’s because I discovered that I’m a man.  Just realized that there is a little pile growing in the bedroom.  I might have to move to the middle of the ledge.  Don’t know what to do about the sparrow that keeps bothering me, especially since I think I might be a man.

Groaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnn

I think I am a man! Groaaaaaaaaan! Back to sleep..............

Aliensssssss!

Last night I didn’t really feel like partying especially since I had a hangover and also, this morning I had spent an inordinate amount of time stocking up on grains and the like. But sometime around 9PM I changed my mind and headed out. I was passing over the hospital when I noticed these very bright, coloured lights far up in the sky that were getting closer and closer and bigger and bigger. ‘A plane?’ I wondered but no, it couldn’t be as it was not moving horizontally. A helicopter? No, it was too far away.  Superpigeon? Hmmm, a possibility, but what about the lights.  And then, suddenly, it was on top of me, there was a blur, a deafening noise, gale like wind, and then I was out and  the last I remember is coming too, lying on my back on a shiny, cold table with bright lights shining into my eyes, blinding me. I could just make out a faint silhouette of figures bent over me, chattering away in what sounded like nonsense to me.  Then they were poking and prodding and they brought this big flat screen that moved across me, scan like, and then the very bright lights went out and I could see the figures clearly.  I wanted to scream in shock but I couldn’t find my voice, I was frozen because, staring down at me were three lizard looking green creatures, with forked tongues snaking in and out of their mouths, chattering away in some incomprehensible lizard chat.  Suddenly, there was a roar, a great vibration and shaking and we literally shot away.  I could see out of the big window to my left and I could see this blue ball getting smaller and smaller and smaller. Suddenly, everything stopped, I went out like a light and the next thing I knew, I was back on my perch.  I had been abducted by a UFO.

What a weekend!!!!

Went back to the usual party this weekend and met a tranny there who then invited me to a very hush hush party held by his tranny friends. What a party! There were pigeons in boa feathers, claws painted, beaks lacquered and did they dance! Heavens above!!! They were gyrating with their boas, I was with my friend Suzie Pigeon and we were dancing in between all the gyrating trannies when this tall masculine pigeon came and joined us. He was followed very quickly by a tranny who was making advances to the ‘man’ but the man ignored him and danced with us so the tranny went off in a huff and plonked himself down in a corner to sulk.

There was a skylight above us and we all saw this big male pigeon and he looked like he was going to take a leak. ON US!!!! There was a shriek and everyone was pushing and shoving to get out of the way (except for a couple of wierdos who looked like they were looking forward to it)

Got home at 5AM feeling like hell and sat on my perch with my bottom over the side of the ledge, just in case there was an accident while I was sleeping.

(Oh! Just remembered, Sunday morning, school starts. The usual hordes turned up early and I thought that when I had had enough sleep, I would go and bombard them.

Doesn’t anyone uh like talk proper like anymore

The parties are getting slightly out of order, uh like (I admire Paris Hilton and like Lourdes, Madonna’s daughter); it is getting, like, overcrowded so I presume someone must be, uhhh like,  putting the word out about our parties. I am worried that the security forces, like, will be on to us, like,  you know what they are like here, they just have to, uh like,  HEAR the word party and they like,  get their knickers in a twist. Nobody’s allowed to have fun.  They don’t want to have fun , like, (not publicly at least) so nobody else is allowed to. Everyone like  has to do as they do and that’s that, uh like. They are, like, such a bunch of miseriguts. Anyway, uhhhh like, I have drifted from the subject, like, the parties are getting crowded.    Too much noise! LIKE!

Still recovering!!!!

Been partying non-stop since my last entry.  Don’t expect any other entries until I recover.  Don’t worry, I’m fine, just slightly legless and I lost a feather or two in a scuffle for the “party food” and, more’s to the point “drink”. Those sparrows kept getting under our feet and tripping us.  Some of the pigeon thugs were elbowing their way through us, pinching our derrieres and hoovering everything up.

I was invited to a party yesterday. YEAH!!!! And what a party, wow! How did I get invited to a party? I never go to parties. Well I just happened to fly past the Hadi Hospital and I met these twins, Coo and Koo, so we got to talking.  Well Coo was the real chatterbox and she went on and on and on and on about what she did, where she lived, her friends and so on. Koo was the silent one and all she kept doing was primping her feathers and scratching her nails, well buffing them I suppose. Well Coo was ranting on and Koo suddenly broke in with "Hey, we're have a few friends over this afternoon? Are you game?" and I thought "What else have I got to lose". So I went. There were a few others there at the time and they were all chattering away, guzzling seeds and milling around. We had some 'refreshments' (nudge nudge wink wink) and in no time at all we were all very happy and there was quite a bit of action.  There must have been a celebrity or two at the party as I noticed some shady types in the bushes, they looked like papparazzi, and I distinctly saw a flash. Gosh, will I get into the papers?  I met a  'bloke' at the party, wow!!! Lovely. But he didn't seem to interested in me. I kept giving him the eye and batting my eyelashes, to no avail. But he did ask me one question which might indicate some interest. He asked if there were any nice chics at the party.We kept getting interrupted by this band of sparrows who were sprinting in and out trying to get our party food. Such vermin those sparrows. One little sparrow took quite a fancy to me and he kept flying up to me and propositioning me and I had to chase him away as I'm not really into that sort of thing (I did drop a hint about where I lived though, just in case, mustn't waste opportunities). Anyway, the party went on until everyone was totally legless, the dog (there was a saluki there) and the cat (a toothless siamese) had fled in panic and hid themselves in some dark recess, and then, one by one we started to leave. It took me an hour to get home as my homing device had gone wonky and I ended up perched on a pylon on the other side of the motorway. Into bed as soon as I got back, skipped the poopile (at the party we'd already taken care of that sort of thing and had had a hilarious time dropping 'loads' on unsuspecting human passersby as well as the dog and cat. We were crying with laughter especially when we carried out an aerial bombardment of some old man walking down the road with his stick and then trying to run away from the dropped loads, waving his stick at us. Oh me oh my, what a night.

Itchy

 Humid

Ooooh...itchy....itchy....itchy this morning. Hate it. Itchy and scratchy! Do I have bed bugs? Or something escdaping from the poopile?

Funny weather this morning, it is a bit dark but there aren't any clouds? Not going out in this and a

nyway, the traffic looks too heavy. I shall stay in and mope.

I didn't go out much yesterday as it was humid. I don't like humidity. Makes my feathers damp and I get stinky. Stinkier than the poopile. I can't stand the smell of pigeons. Yuck.

Misery

...raining in my heart......oh, oh misery, oh you misery...... whaaaat's gonna becooome... of meeeeeeeee..

Yes, you guessed it, another miserable morning. I tried jumping up and down and energising myself, but I feel miz! I hate being a horrible pigeon, getting discriminated against, feeling like a rodent.......

AND, I WANT A SIGNIFICANT OTHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Where can I get one? Marina Mall? The Avenues?

Oh bugger, who'd want a grizzly brown pigeon anyway? Too old, not attractive enough, not rich enough. I just sit here, day after day, unloved.

Depression

I fussed over the Poopile this morning, fluffing up the feathers, pulling out bits that shouldn't have been there, patting down rough edges and it looked quite nice and round after all my ministrations.

I then settled in the corner of the ledge, exhausted and just kept one eye open so that I could see what was going on in the car park. I almost fell asleep but was rudely awakened by some loud tooting of horns so I had to jump up, stretch and do a little exercise. the rest of the day was uneventful, just ugly mugs going back and forth, in and out of the school.  Decided I'd had enough for the day.

 

I got depressed later on because nobody loves me.  I am a nobody, a stupid brown nobody who sits on a ledge all day long, everybody else having a wonderful life, enjoying themselves, laughing, being visited by family and friends, and me, I just sit here like some stupid dumb pigeon....Oh me.......Oh my.......life is a bitch!

Thursday 23rd

I am sick of this country.  Everyone is going on about Sunni/Shia Sunni/Shia and I was watching the telly (through the window of my ledge,) and on Aljazeera channel, there was this programme about the problems between Shia and Sunnah. Since when have we had problems.  And it all came to a head when this dork, Yassir Habeeb, from Kuwait, said some rude things about the prophet's wife?  That set everyone off.  I’m just wondering what the dork Yasser thought he would achieve for world peace by being so rude  about members of the prophet’s family?  His own religion too!! How has he improved the world by what he said?  Insane! Really insane!!!!!! Next, lots of unsavoury types in Jahra starting having demonstrations (I flew there the other day, what a load of hoi polloi).
What is this place coming to? The country has changed! Lunatics inciting rifts in society and hoi polloi  tearing their hair out!!!!

Went to Beirut!!!!!

I had a reasonable night and woke up early to the tooting of car horns and guess what, it is the Nun’s school parents again, driving chaotically, behaving like savages (which they are of course so they can’t be blamed) and breaking every single traffic law you can think of.  First of all, there is a NO ENTRY sign at the top of the road which obviously means NO ENTRY, but what do we get, Neanderthals (sorry Neanderthals) shoving and squeezing their way down the road, causing disruption, a cacophony of car horns, screaming drivers and hot tempers.  I saw one person tell one woman she was coming down the wrong way and she gestured obscenely with her hand!  And she was veiled, probably to hide an ugly face.  What arrogance, to think that traffic laws are there for her to break. Unfortunately that seems to be the general attitude here. Stuff the laws, they don’t apply to me, but of course everyone else has to follow them.  So if that ugly Neanderthal coming down the road the wrong way, one day comes down the right way and meets someone coming the wrong way, then she will almost certainly give them what for!  I disappeared from my perch early as I couldn’t face the screeching pithecanthropus’s.

I must swat up on that book of ‘…….In 12 Easy Lessons.”

Groaaaan!!!!! I hate life, life is a bitch.  I feel miserable this morning and don't ask me why.  I've been feeling miserable since yesterday and all through the afternoon I felt listless and lacklustre.

I shifted from the poo pile and squeezed into the other corner of the ledge, and this morning I went out early, looked for breakfast, lost interest and went back to the perch.  I'm going to spend the rest of the day staring into space.