Howya. I’m Jacob. Seems this website’s all about me. Well that’s just fine and dandy but nobody asked my say-so. Did anybody come and ask me to write anything? No they did not. I see plenty of pictures of me up around here and I don’t remember giving any permission for any of them. I’m six months old and I have rights, or did nobody tell that misguided pair of ‘guardians’ I seem to have ended up with? There was definitely a mix-up in the hospital there, but nobody will listen to me. Anyway, that’s for another day.
Here, I’m not in favour of this at all.
Now I’m not sayin it’s their fault entirely. It could have happened last week when things got a bit mad. There was some drink taken, ok? I admit it. But I turned half a year old, you see. Well it’s a big deal for me, alright? I’ve been waitin all my life to be a half year old. It does bring certain benefits, as you will see.
Now where was I? Yeah. Last week. Three mad things happened at once. Number one was, I had this forty Rothmans cough on me. There was a chesty dose doin the rounds, and if I’m bein totally honest this was after about a week of bein fairly much ignored by Yer Man and Herself. The two smaller ones weren’t up to much either. Mostly fightin among themselves, breakin off occasionally to annoy me. (I’m goin to have me work cut out for me there, I can tell. Seems fairly apparent in general that I’m goin to have to look after myself around here.)
Anyway, as I was sayin, I had this hack of a cough and eventually, EVENTUALLY they decided to get me an antibiotic. Nearly had to call the medics meself. But the good news is that when you’re my size, there’s a great kick off that yellow stuff. Sugar hit that’d knock spots off a dog.
Ok, so that’s the first thing. Second is solids. They put me on solids. Jayz but that rice is great stuff. I’m lashin into it. One of the benefits of hittin the old six month mark. If I keep this up I’ll have a good extra stone more on me before I squeeze into me Speedos for the summer. I’ll have Yer Man’s back out in no time. That might knock some of the big moon face goo-goo gaa-gaa out of him.
Anyway. I’m already buzzin from the antibiotic. I’m full as a tic from the solids AND the bottle. Wha-hey! Party time! Then, wait till you hear this one, then they have me in a DIY ‘steam room’ that Yer Man and Herself made up out of their own heads, God bless them. A special medical piece of equipment to assist with my breathing. High-end stuff now, years of research and development from a joint team at Wyeth and Pfizer and Elan. Yeah, as if. Wait for it… a poxy one-man tent and the bottle steriliser! Jayz but didn’t I land on me feet with Mr and Mrs No-expenses-spent-for-our-precious-special-one (that’s me by the way)? This tent will not be comin with me to any Electric Picnic in the near future or the far future either, let me assure you now. You wouldn’t keep a sick cat in it. That had a sight impediment. And was in a box with a lid on it.
But anyway. What I’m gettin around to sayin is that the combination of a feed of milk and lovely, lovely rice, on top of that yellow stuff from the chemist, and a good blast of sauna steam, well it went straight to me head. Basically I was fairly much out of me tree. I could’ve agreed to let them do a website I suppose. I can’t remember much about it. But that does NOT make it right. And it’s certainly not right either that I have to sneak up the stairs and hack into the bloody thing meself if there’s ever goin to be anything truthful said from my side!
You can bet your bottom dollar they’ll be trying to get it out of me this evenin. Tryin to get me to talk. But I’m not as thick as the ones their mammies and daddies had. I’ll look up at the big heads on them and their big funny round eyes and throw an odd laugh out of me and I’ll have them eatin out of me hand before teatime.
But mark my words, there’s more to be said from my side around here. I know me rights. This ain’t over. Here, there’s someone comin’ up the stairs. Where’s the off button on this thing?