Return of Old Big Head

Things have gone down hill since yesterday's good news. You will recall I told you that "my poncy brother" had a swollen head and was booked in to see "the bloke who sticks needles in us once a year" - I hate him! Well, would you believe it, he did not have to go to hospital as we were all hoping, and he is now back home. I am very disappointed - if they had kept him in for a few days I could have had his prawns. Apparently, he has got an abscess and has been prescribed a course of antibiotics.

It gets worse. To get the tablets down him, "the housekeeping staff" are hiding them inside great big juicy prawns. So not only is he getting the regular prawns that I have to put up with, but twice a day he is getting king prawns - terrible isn't it. Where is the justice in that? "The bloke who sticks needles in us once a year" says it was probably caused by a bite or scratch that became infected. I reckon it was nothing of the sort - I reckon his head just swelled up naturally to match his own opinion of himself. I can't stand him!

He is really making the most of it though - he has "the pretty one" eating out of his hand which is ironic really, as he is quite literally eating out of hers - all he has to do is give her that self-pitying look and she feeds him extra prawns. It is beneath contempt. She is so gullible though and being such a deceitful cat he is milking it for all it is worth. The only good news is that his head is still swollen - it looks gruesome. Here are before and after pictures - you see what I mean?

I find this hilarious, especially as he fancies himself as a pretty boy. I'm amazed he has the nerve to go out. I very kindly offered to make two holes in a brown paper bag so he could wear that - a noble gesture I thought, but one that was thrown straight back in my face. How rude, typical of him though. I ought to be getting king prawns as well. It is very cruel making me sit here and watch him bolt them down. "The housekeeping staff" need to be careful. What they don't realise is that through the offices of Twitter, I have a direct line to the good people at the Cats Protection League. By the way, you can follow me on Twitter as well - look for AlbertTheCat.

Here's a funny thing - something I have observed every time they come back from visiting "the bloke who sticks needles in us once a year" - I hate him. "The one I don't trust" always waves a piece of paper about, mutters a few strange words, then quotes a large number in pounds sterling, before using the term "money for old rope". I wonder what this is all about. Can anyone enlighten me!

Well that's my lot for today. All we can hope for is that "my poncy brother" has a relapse, but knowing my luck he will make a swift recovery. To show my displeasure, I think I will go outside and find something unpleasant to bring in and deposit under the bed. I'll probably dig up a few plants while I am out there. What a life! Albert the Cat.