EAGER BEAVER

In the early hours of monday morning Beast was dragged from beneath his fragrant Duvet by the insitant ringing of the Beast phone to be summoned to an ailing Miss MJ's assistance .
As the Betty Ford swat team tightened the last strap and manhandled Miss MJ off for 'a long rest' , Beast was given instructions to look after Miss MJ's favourite pet for the duration.

This bad tempered , evil smelling brute is now making the Beasts life a mysery .It has so far demolished the Beasts nest of occasional tables to build a dam in the bath and is eyeing my classic oak dining table in a very nasty way. To keep the little swine out of trouble I have taken to wearing it strapped to my head as a hat.If it was good enough for Davey Crocket its good enough for me.

 Relations had been a little cool with Miss Scarlet of late after the buttered buttocks/patio doors incident , that resulted in Miss S knocking off a very terse letter of complaint to Mr C advising that propper staff training and tighter stock control at Cafe C would have prevented a nasty situation and some very stubborn stains.She has however recognised the comedic potential of my current house guest and has taken to late night anonimous phone calls where she breathes  in a variety of ridiculous accents "Nice Beaver Mr Beastie" and then guffaws loudly .  

One has to excuse Miss Scarlet sometimes . She lives in the middle of a field in darkest Devon where this type of behaviour and whittling mangle wurzels passes for entertaining evening in until television reception arrives (expected Late 2015) .In case your wondering a Devonian evening out usually involves a portable BBQ and shovel and scraping something up off the road.

However I digress , I am sure you will all join me in wishing Miss MJ a speedy return to her Mojo .

THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED

As if working seven days a week  , enduring Mr C's 'Tough Love' bipolariod management techniques and Frobisher's alterego Mavis publically ripping me to shreds every time I venture from the safety of my kitchen to deliver trays of spotless glasses and crockery to the bar wasn't bad enough . Cafe C has a new torture to make my working hours a living nightmare .
TRANIEOAKE
Oh yes , two blokes , two wigs, two glittery frocks , a karaoke machine and not a functioning vocal cord between them.
It would have made me weep if I wasnt tone deaf

TECHNOLOGICAL TANTRUMS

A work chum of the Beast was bragging of buying a Robot vacuum cleaner.The Beast is troubled by this on two fronts . Firstly being a bit of a puritan , the Beast values the cathartic experience of cleansing ones environment with a vigorous thrashing around with the dyson.
Secondly , the Beast has previously had a rather bad experience with autonomous gadgets.
A few years back I bought the newest gadget on the block , the Tivo TV recorder , it downloaded its own TV guide and made decisions about what programs to record for you by monitoring what you were watching/recording. (The prerunner for todays sky plus boxes)
It all started well enough , the Beast would have a nightly feast of comedy , sci fi and documentories that the Tivo had selected for my pleasure . Sadly this idyllic state of  being was not to last . Within a month the dratted object began developing a little personality  disorder of its own and started an obsession with crap teenage soap Hollyoaks . This became so bad that it began bumping things of my record list to record yet more hollyoaks repeats and omnibus editions untill it eventually refused to record anything else .................and do you know what..........the damn thing looked smug.....
The Beast decided on decisive action and scoured the manual and found a very well hidden option in the depths of the menu system where you could select a program and forbid that is ever recorded again .
Well this caused a mexican standoff for a couple of weeks were the devil box sulked and refused to record anything , but it eventually buckled and began recording my requests again .......but I knew all was not well , I used to catch it twittering to itself when I left the room , I could see it through a crack in the door , thinking it was alone , lights would flash , disks would grind and wirr and it would stop the minute I walked back in. I just knew it was plotting .Eventually the Hollyoaks recordings  started again, just the odd one occasionally and then it went completely bats and the whole total Hollyoaks wipe out  started again.
The battle ensued for months , forbidding Hollyoaks , the sulking , running down in the night to disconnect the blasted thing from the mains when I heard it twittering and plotting in the wee small hours.
Eventually I could take no more and a final trip to the dump bought the whole sorry episode to an end.
Now just imagine the havoc  a rogue autominous vacuum cleaner could wreak  , sneaking about tripping you up  , hiding in cupboards and flying out when you least expected it and attaching itself to various parts of you anatomy and giving you a very nasty suck..noisily mounting the Dyson  on the fireside rug whle you have the Vicar round for tea .As Mrs Pouncer would say....its beyond reason
This is one gadget the Beast will be giving a  very wide birth !
What paranoid luddite fantasies are you nurturing dear readers ????