The flying cat and War of the Worlds

You might not think that there was the remotest connection between War of the Worlds and flying cats, but a link – tenuous though it may be – does exist. I suspect it may be argued that you could make something link to anything else if you put your mind to it; hey! I was bemoaning the lack of bloggage on here the other day and now I’m going to write about something I’ve only just remembered while writing about what I was actually going to write about! I remember reading in a book about a game which I cannot remember the name of just at the moment, where one person says a word and the other person has to say a word with absolutely no connection with the first person’s word. Now you may think that sounds quite boring, but the fun part is the challenge! The challenge, that is, of the first person who must maintain that there is a connection and proceeds to describe the thought processes involved in linking the first and second words with, of course, hilarious consequences. No? Oh well. Just bear with me. For example, the first person might say “Camilla”. Now, clearly, the second person could not say “horse’s arse”, for example. But he (or she) could say “Superman”, fondly imagining that the first person would certainly fail in the attempt to establish any kind of link between the two. The first person, however, is probably made of sterner stuff and, although possibly stumped momentarily, would undoubtedly respond in magnificent fashion by revealing the following intricate mental itinerary not envisioned by the second person: Camilla – Parker Bowles – Lady Penelope – over – 6 balls – Superman. Get the idea? Oh, please yourselves. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, the flying cat. My eldest son Andrew and his girl-friend have two kittens, Fruit and Nut, and no, I had nothing whatever to do with that. They all live in the flat over the pub, so all the rooms are, as you would expect, on the first floor of the building (or, if you are a Merkin, the second floor). Well, to cut a long story short, Nut jumped out of the lounge window onto the (concrete) forecourt. Without a parachute, the descent did not take too long and I was surprised Andrew got down there before she ran off in a panic (or in a strop because she had not been issued with a parachute in the first place) but he managed to retrieve her and she seemed relatively unharmed although she sported a cut lip. When she seemed to exhibit somewhat sleepy tendencies, they began to worry and took her to the vet straight away. She was given an injection for the cut and, apparently, no bones had been broken. This morning, she was chasing her sister round the flat as usual. The connection? Well, it happened last night and we went to see War of the Worlds last night. It was very good, actually.