For Mama Sal

So it seems I made a promise that I failed to uphold.
It is my duty to avenge the wrong I have done.

This is for you, Pat.

Dr Jancis’ Guide to Not Licking Things: Volume 31: Cats

Before we start we must get a few things straight.
Life.
It’s bigger.
It’s bigger then you.
And you are not me.

That done, we can get onto the matters at hand.
The reasons one should not apply salivated linguas to felines.

When I used the example of this, I was using it as an example of self evident things. It is evident that the internet has little privacy and it is evident that licking cats is foolish.
Yet curious minds wish to know reasons for this.

We must note the existence of fleas. There is a reason that cats must continuously lick themselves. That is fleas. The cat needs to keep washing. If they don’t, the fleas were bury deep into their bodies. Bury deep into their soft supple flesh. Bury and wait. Just wait for its moment to burst forth from the skin. To burst forth and claim its next victim.

You itching?
You shouldn’t be.
I mean you didn’t put your mouth near that cat did you?
You were smart and listened to old Jancis didn’t you?
You didn’t put your mouth near that kitten?
Didn’t feel the slight twinge as a mite leapt from the creature’s back and landed on your tongue?
Didn’t feel it slowly travel down your gullet, throwing out its eggs as it fell?
Didn’t wait knowing that they await the time, slowly heated by your warm body?
Didn’t feed it Christmas dinner and mulled wine so it may grow big and strong?
Did you?

So you shouldn’t be itching.
Because you listened to me.
Didn’t you?


Okay, Pat. Hope that answered your question.
Come back next time for more fun Jancis fun!

What is that strange whining noise?

What is THIS? The alarm is making noise. Hold on. *Kick-kick-kickty*
Ah-HA!
A commentary for my episode!
What good fun!
Go NOW!
(15.45 on)

The December Ramble

So I have a week to sum up. Funarific.

In strange news, my friend Tess randomly said when we walking along a few days ago “People who like you are called JanFans. Where did that come from?” I blinked and talked about JanManFan all the while thinking “You read my blog?”
I wish people would tell me these things. It gets me all a fluster. What if I was saying what colour my underwear was? That’s information you could bring me down with. Ruin my chances of getting into politics.
Of course, that’s the risk of blogs. ANYONE can read them. Did you know that? Now you do.
Next blog I’ll tell you why you shouldn’t lick cats. Look forward to THAT!
Anyway, people are catching onto calling me Jancis. HURRAH! Although I have to say “Don’t try it. You can never say it.” One git a while back was like “Then I’ll call you Dave” I said “No. You really won’t” and glared. He was drunk as if that will make things better. (Still a tool though.)

In exciting news, I have finished my novel.
Yes, JanFans 57,140 words of…words. I have given it to three friends who are at the moment browsing it when they feel like. They say they enjoyed the first chapter then needed to stare at the wall. Freaking readers.
So that’s going to be fun. Rewriting it over the holidays in between writing essays.

That’s the awful thing. Now I’m done, I don’t have anything to keep me going. Used to be I could have a shite day but I say “I shall have to take my anger out on my characters.”
Because I don’t have a wife to beat.
(That speck? Oh that’s the line. Went over that five years ago and never looked back).
People have said, “Why don’t you just write another book?” I glare at them and point out that I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in a month AND I’m breaking up for the holidays in a week. I have enough work as it is as the moment. And I’m not eating properly. And I have to get up in the morning. Why don’t THEY write a book? They will?…Can I read it when it’s done?

Anyway, it’s a great thing to drop in conversation.
“I have a four thousand word essay for a week!
“Hmm. Yeah. Ah. Did I mention I wrote a novel in a month?”
“No, you didn’t. But now I know, please take me in a manly yet sensitive manner.”
And that’s how I met your mother, son.

Did you know we have to write journals on our physical lessons then part of our mark is peer review based on what everyone else put? Did you know that? What about that? I’m just glad I haven’t made anyone cry yet. (Give me time. I am an arsehole.)

So today, I got to show my seminar that I worked on for so long on. Sadly, the computers hate us and it ended up with us having to show the videos and not the slides. Sad. My college and I started to sink into depression. Long talk about sucikness of world over Burger King. Got up the balls to ask scary, shaveheaded Northern Comedy teacher how we did. He looks at us and nods “Very good.” DAY MADE! Sun shining. Birds singing. Everyone in the room 1.6% sexier.

It’s all a case of staying upbeat I guess.

This is rambling I know.
But I’m tired.
So sue me.
Please don’t sue me. I have no money.
I have to write stories for Christmas presents. (To give, as gifts but wouldn’t that be a great system? “I want a Wii!” “Write me the tale of a young woman finding love in a strange location. You must include an Irish pirate and the phrase “popsqualouck.”)

So until next time JanFans!