In all fairness, I'm one of those who doesn't know whether to believe in ghosts or not but that's a pretty convincing apple bruise.
I'm eating some raspberries right now. I'm ****ing terrified, truth be told. Expecting to see the white lady any moment.
****, I knew it! My beloved old hamster, Nigel, is in my punnet. Hello, old friend. Forget everything I ever said about them not existing. Watch your nectarines!
My kids hamster is called Trevor. He's ****ing mental and draws blood every time any one dares put their hand in his cage. He's a proper fatso as well, I also think Trevor is a girl. If Nigel came back from the dead who'd be the Daddy? Trevor or Nigel? I'd put a monkey on Trev.
Its a little bit like Peter kays crisp pkt blowing across the road at the funeral gag. If fireman Sam,s dog had been called Pip, I may have believed he,d come back as an apple...
Due to Party's silence I declare Big Trev the winner by de fault. Obviously Party had no confidence that Nige could handle himself in a combat situation. Unlike Trev.
That newspaper 'article' reads like it's straight out of Viz. He even says 'you can imagine my surprise', though stops short of dropping his bacon sandwich in shock. In a word - bollocks.
I apologise for the delay in responding. I have to accept the decision of TKO as I have been unable to get Nigel into fighting shape. Poor soul had terrible conjunctivitis before he passed on, and sadly his ghost is also somewhat crusty round the blinkers. He can't see where he's scratting. It wouldn't be fair on him, Trev's the champ. As a result, I've killed the lame **** off for a 2nd time. FFS Nigel, FFS.
No shame in losing to big Trev mate. He's one violent bastard. When I was a wee nipper I accidentally starved my hamster to near death. My old boy had to revive the poor ****er with mushed up cornflakes. He'd tipped Goldie's ( my sister picked the name FFS)lifeless body into tho hole we'd dug him and he started twitching. " Pick him up son, he's still alive" said Papa NFU. " Don't think so Pops. Blue Peter is on " said I and ****ed off back inside the family homestead. Papa NFU went mental but I wasn't budging, I didn't like the ginger **** anyway. He lived for for another 6 months. Out of pure spite, may I add. My old boy, or should I call him Sherlock Holmes , then inspected hamster boys cage and it was devoid of food. I got the blame for that. I think I might be over compensating with Trev. He looks like a hamster version of Paul Mason.
Similar story relating to pet resuscitation, performed by my old man during my childhood. Different genre of pet though, this time - Goldfish. Sylvester (he had silver bits) had jumped out of his bowl again, as per. Party Hull! senior (Big Kev, as I call him) came downstairs in the AM to have breakfast, etc, before going to work, and found the slippery little bugger on the carpet, gasping. I was in bed still, so missed the entire dramatic scene, but I am informed that he rubbed its tiny fishy chest so as to massage some kind of heartbeat from it, before plopping it back in the water, and watching it live. I don't know if he's taking the piss out of me by claiming to perform CPR on a tiny goldfish, and he has just recently completed a First Aid course, but I honestly don't think my dad possesses that level of wit. So, I believe him, and he's a hero as a result. P.S. Goldfish are boring.
I have to admit Big Kev giving an out of breath Goldfish CPR is more impressive than Little Mike spoon feeding an emaciated hamster. I'll have a word with my old boy and tell him to pull his finger out.
