Two up two down
A couple of weeks ago, I decided to expand my property portfolio.
I know property is supposed to be a dirty word these days, but I refuse to believe everything I read in the papers, and anyway this property was on the market at a reasonable price, so I bought it.
It is a nice little property. It’s a two story, two bed detached house. The ground floor is open plan and upstairs there are two bedrooms with a wee mezzanine level. All rooms are en-suite.
Guinea pig house.
It is intended to go outdoors, but while this fucking snow and frost persist, it is remaining in the kitchen.
It is working very well. There is a trapdoor between the two levels, so it can serve as one large house, or two apartments, hence the water bottles on each level. Unfortunately, Minnie has discovered that she can open the trapdoor from underneath, so she has to stay in the penthouse suite, while Fizz has the ground floor.
Normally they are very happy there. I separate the guinea pigs at night so they can get some peace and quiet, and then open the trapdoor so they can meet up and have a smoke and a gossip during the daytime.
This morning was different.
I don’t know what got into them, but as soon as I came into the kitchen, they kicked up a mighty racket. Both of them started twanging the bars, which they know drives me mad. I checked that they both had food and water, which they had which made a change. I then opened the trapdoor, thinking they might be hankering for a bit of a natter.
That was a mistake.
Minnie gave a loud yell of “get your knickers off, you little slut” and she went hammering down the stairs to bugger Minnie. Lesbian guinea pigs are so fucking tiresome.
All hell broke loose as Minnie chased Fizz around the house, as I have a feeling that while Minnie is a lesbian, Fizz isn’t, which makes life difficult for Fizz. Minnie roared obscenities and Fizz kept telling her to fuck off. They made one hell of a racket. I couldn’t hear myself think.
I had to arrest Minnie for harassment in the end, and she is now sentenced to five hours in her old cage on top of the rubbish bin where she is in a sulk. Fizz [as you can see from the photograph] is sitting, looking rather stunned and is probably wondering what the fuck happened.
Maybe, on second thoughts this property lark isn’t quite all that it’s cracked up to be.
In the U.S. this would not be complete without some graffiti. And a security guard. And some meth dealers.
I think it’s a riot that you are so “into” your pigs.
You old softie.
I’m sure they can all be arranged [provided the meth deals and security guards aren’t guinea pigs].
As for your other crack – have you never heard of emergency rations? 😉
Aye, Grandad, would never have you down for a property tycoon. Lesbian guinea pigs! could only happen in Ireland. It will be all that supressed sexual stuff that happened over there pre 21st century, must have got into the water-feeders! Hope you and herself are well.
Where’s my Scottish flag?
jesus….that’s more entertaining than Eastenders…
.-= manuel´s last brainfart .. True Story =-.
MarieC – As far as I know, our guinea pigs aren’t convent educated, but as I haven’t had them from birth, you may have a point. When is Scotland declaring independence?
Manuel – Not being an Eastenders watcher, I’m not sure whether that is a compliment or not. Just this once, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.
Iris Robinson knows a very good pet whisperer who can “cure” Minnie.
.-= not twitter´s last brainfart .. 1,047,471 =-.
I presume you have her phone number? 😉
The pet whisperer? No, but Iris has it written down on a little piece of paper in her trouser pocket. She promises to give it to me as soon as they undo the buckles in her waistcoat.
.-= not twitter´s last brainfart .. 1,047,471 =-.