On Swans and The Royal Barge

I think you'll find these words describe what you see:

The barge he sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver,
Which to the tunes of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes.

On the question of swans, well, they are Crown property and we see it our imperial duty to keep them well disciplined.

On Snow

I love snow!  Digging through my video archive I came across this one.  It snows every Christmas here in Manchester and lasts about three weeks - my human staff say this is not true and that it is rare for the Rainy City to have much snow at all.  What do they know?  It has snowed every Christmas of my life!  Can't wait for the next big one!

On Treading The Boards

So Christmas will soon be upon us.  This is a still from my 2010 performance "The Nativity".  I designed the costume myself.  As my valet was tearing up some of his old shirts for rags, I spotted an opportunity for creativity.  Thrusting my head up one of the shirt sleeves, the performance of the year was born! I've just finished a photo session for this year but you'll have to wait till nearer Christmas to see the results.  All I can say is that it is a complex role requiring a great deal of interpretive skill!

On Escape

So today I got a little bit bored. Okay, I'd been down the meadows and up "The Hill", avoided a large group of horses, got trampled by a Great Dane and herded a few ducks back onto Dutton's Pond. Back home, while my valet was making some blueberry frames, I found a weak spot in the perimeter fence. Alas, I was soon missed and a search party sent out. I was arrested two doors away. They have a very nice landscaped garden I must say!
My valet set about fixing the fence he thought I'd got over. Ha! The fool! While his back was turned working on it, I cunningly sneaked out through the secret tunnel I'd excavated under the hedge on the other side of the garden - the same route as I'd taken before. After much hullabaloo, I surrendered in a garden further down the street.
Confined to barracks, I watched through the window as my valet set to work again, this time on an impregnable piece of defence.
Hmmmm!

On James Joyce and The Stream of Consciousness

Sausages are good, sausages are good, sausages are good, cats are bad, cats are very bad, sausages are good, the Kong ball must be destroyed, chicken is good as is the sausage.  That said, cats are bad as is the squirrel - but the squirrel doesn't tease but too must be destroyed.  The cat teases and is therefore bad but the sausage does not tease but tempts - as does chicken and also steak which are both good things.  Sleep, ah sleep perchance to dream, perchance to dream of the sausage which is good or the steak which is very good - or rabbits which run and must under all circumstances be chased in dreams or reality...and their taste perhaps of sausage which is goooood!...

On Taking The Mickey.

'Nuff Said!

On Art

In my studio today working on a new piece in the style of Jackson Pollock.

On Cats

How much reverence can you have for a supreme being who finds it necessary to include such phenomena as phlegm, tooth decay and cats in His divine system of creation?

On The Imperial Fleet

My Imperial Fleet comprises two battle canoes, each powered by either my male or female servant.  I have sailed the seas of Loch Sween, Windermere, Ullswater, Derwentwater.  Disaster almost struck on the River Derwent when the canoe I was captaining struck an overhanging tree branch.  All would have been well during the capsize had my idiot male servant not grabbed my lifejacket, which afterall is supposed to keep me afloat, and pushed me four feet under the water.  We were not amused!

On Licking Jellyfish

You know the basic rule - Spot Sniff and Lick Every Trip - well I'd been enjoying a day out on Formby Sands when I applied the rule to a brown flat wobbly thing washed up on the beach.  Bad move!  Instant choking, shivering, hyperventilation and yet another trip to the vet.  My servant suggests that I wear a special collar in the future, somewhat like those worn by mountain rescue St Bernards but with his wallet in place of the barrel.  I can then make my trips to the vet on my own.

On Imperial Majesty

I am Ozymandias, King of Kings.  Look upon my works ye mighty and despair!

On Hunting Frogs

Now the problem with frogs is that, being colour blind, I cannot see them if they keep still on the grass.  So, you've got to get on in there and sniff 'em out!

On Dealing With Fireworks!

It may be a little like locking the stable door after the horse has bolted but since I don't do horses any more (having been kicked by one I was trying to bring home a few months ago) let's give a bit of advice to all you nervous types out there.  First bark, then bark again.  Follow this with a deep throaty growl then add an extra bark.  Further growls are optional.  It didn't stop the fireworks last night but it warned them that I wasn't too happy about the racket.  Then I went back to chewing, or rather dismantling, Quentin the "indestructable" (yeah right) cuddly warthog.