The Diary of Mr Kain: Week #38

Lioness

The Diary of Mr KainMonday

A new week began with the news that Beard Face was now going to take up yet another career. This time his aspirations have taken him down the path of being a mortgage lender. Not content with the sensible choice of joining an established mortgage lender, the beard decided the best way forward would be for him to set up his own. He named this new venture Not Very Affordable Loans which promised to lend you anything from £1 to £300,000,000 to buy a house with special stipulations stating that for every £1 you borrow you will pay back 1p! I’m not sure the beard has completely grasped how mortgages work.

Tuesday

Frizzy Hair has recently had her hair done so is struggling to now live up to her much-loved title. I’ll still call her “Frizzy Hair” to avoid confusion and because I can’t be bothered coming up with something new. What? I’m a busy cat and you should feel privileged by my musings no matter how brief. I realise, this being a diary, that I’m effectively talking to myself now which doesn’t look good but hopefully it will turn out okay in the end. Anyway, the frizz has gone for a shortened version of the “fingers in the plug sockets” style that she had previously and it does look rather nice, especially the blue, purple, orange and green shades that she has gone for. Beard Face says she looks like a raccoon, presumably an LSD-infused one!

Lioness
This was my reaction to House M.D. ending at the weekend

Wednesday

More arguments today between Beard Face and Frizzy Hair. This time their dispute was over the sun. The beard was adamant that the sun coming out each day was a man with a torch searching for his missing poodle named Eric. Whenever it’s daylight he’s searching but at night the torch has run out of battery and it takes him a while to find a replacement. The frizz, of course, tried to offer the old boy the scientific explanation but he was having none of it so she resigned herself to looking online for a replace your husband service. Can’t say I blame her.

Thursday

I don’t know what Beard Face put in my breakfast this morning but it was good stuff. I went in the garden and there were chocolate wrappers and leaves in the grass. I completely flipped out and started attacking them, believing them to be canine resistance fighters, while Charlie cheered in the background at my efforts. It was all very surreal. The skies were green and purple too on occasion and even the wheelie bins had character. I finally came down from my trip in the middle of the afternoon. It sounds kind of embarrassing the things I did but at the time I was at one with the world, dude.

Friday

Beard Face and Frizzy Hair have been spending some quality time together. Don’t worry, I’m not talking about that bedroom jiggly about thing that humans find so endearing. They’ve actually been partaking of World of Warcraft. The beard is a warrior and the frizz a priest. You can see how they’ve delved completely into the realm of fantasy with those choices. The couple of hours they spend on the game involve the frizz telling the old boy what to do and to stop behaving like a dick all the time. In other words just like real life.

Saturday

It was a very emotional day today. As a family we’ve all been enjoying House M.D. but after eight seasons the show finally came to an end. Frizzy Hair was in tears, I was in tears, Beard Face thought we were watching The Flintsones and Buggles decided it would be an opportune moment to tell us about a wonderful encounter he had in the garden with a yellow flower named Samantha. It’s always sad when you come to the end of such a great show. It’s even worse when you have to contend with the latest phase of Buggles’ descent into kitty mania.

Sunday

Beard Face continues to wait for a start date for his new job. The delay is less down to the company and more down to the old boy making some ridiculous excuses. When they asked if he’d be available this week he informed them he wouldn’t because his pair of green clown pants were still in the wash. The previous week he insisted that the moon wasn’t in the right position in the sky. The week before that he was adamant that Zach Braff would cry if the beard started work too soon. Bizarrely, that particular excuse was not questioned! To be fair, who wants to see Zach Braff cry?

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Dave Brown

I was born in Barnsley, South Yorkshire, England and have always been a bookworm and enjoyed creative writing at school. In 1999 I created the Elencheran Chronicles and have been writing ever since. My first novel, Fezariu's Epiphany, was published in May 2011. When not writing I'm a lover of films, games, books and blogging. I live in Barnsley, with my wife, Donna, and our six cats - Kain, Razz, Buggles, Charlie, Bilbo and Frodo.
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