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.