My 'owner' tells me there's a song called 'I don't like Mondays'. Well, I can't bear Tuesdays. A girl comes every week, takes out the dragon and goes all over the house with it roaring its blue head off. The dragon doesn't like my cat scents and does its best to suck them all away. All I can do is pad from room to room in the hope that the blasted thing will let me get some rest.
I've now taken refuge in Jess's study, but she's got a pile of CDs to work through and it's bloody noisy in here. For the last hour we've been listening to some guy bawling his head off in a foreign language, with a piano going alongside and people clapping from time to time. Jess was sitting there with her hanky, snuffling and saying stupid things to me like, "Don't you love Schubert, poochface?" Wretched woman. I shall be demanding extra dinner later on as my retaliation.
OH, FOR SOME PEACE AND QUIET.
This is the disc, by the way...