Cats swallowing wasps

We seem to be living in the age of outrage. But do we really need a new universal amendment to assert our right to be offended? The slightest hint of challenge or disagreement leaves too many people looking like they have swallowed a wasp. Take the so-called leader of the Western World… yes… please… go ahead and take him! He seems to have elevated wasp swallowing into a nocturnal pastime, with a blue-tinged cat snack as his vehicle of choice…

Donald Trump

Then, a little closer to home, when we are in desperate need for a credible opposition in Britain, what do we get? What do you think about Brexit Jeremy? What do you think about the future of the economy Jeremy? Who are the voters you actually need to get you  within a Gnat’s testicle of being able to do something Jeremy? It seems that wasp swallowing is a universal affliction of our so-called leaders…

corbyn

Talking of leadership and the intrusion of hymenoptera (well, weren’t we?). Just the other day, down at the home of football, the Cardiff City Stadium, manager Neil Warnock is reported to have had cause at half-time to employ his own particular brand of wasp swallowing

Neil Warnock

Many a player has had cause to experience the half-time verbal tongue lashing from Sheffield’s finest. On this occasion, the swallowing of wasps was employed as a means of devouring bees… the bees of Brentford FC, that is. For the record, at half time it was Cardiff City 0 Brentford 1; and at full time the score is Cardiff City 2 Brentford 1. Bees well and truly devoured!

As for Juno and Bella, one good thing about being indoor cats was the lesser chance of being tempted to supplement the meagre rations by chasing wasps, as you never know what the impact of success might be…

 

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[With acknowledgements to YouTube, BBC and the Independent for original images].

Cats for a new dawn

thinking-catBella was often to be found in deep  contemplation. Could it have been a fretfulness for so-called hard Brexit’s yet to be? Maybe it was a fear of any game that involved a Trump card! Or, was she simply playing over in her mind a favourite feline chase, involving the exposing of claws to greedy bankers scurrying about the floor before her.

Whatever the source, it always seemed like she was in a mood for change. As a deaf bag of tumours, she had the full on experience of being one of life’s strugglers, for whom the promised bounty had found its way into the pockets of others… the chosen few.

A very same mass desire for change has equally gripped the deluded followers of a certain local football team. When you find yourselves bouncing along the bottom of your league, you quickly resort to emotional affectation underpinned by a complete lack of evidence or sound judgement. Collectively, you become a herd of cats in search of a new dawn. The banners are dusted off, and the gladiators take to the field before an inflated audience, many drawn to a one-off experience of the bogof (buy one get one free) variety.

city-v-bristol-city

Until we speak again, a new manager and new players arrive, and the tale of unexpected cauldrons produces a Cardiff City 2 Bristol City 1 scoreline, enough to bring tears of joy to the emotionally impoverished Bluebirds witnessing the first goals scored at home by someone in blue this season. Just don’t start believing in a new dawn just yet, with Brexiteers’ and Corbynistas’ already laying claim to the realisation of the activists dream, some things come in three’s… so the 8th November in a certain gun-toting nation could yet make The Exorcist look like Mary Poppins! As for Warnock’s wonders…?