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Jul 12

I'm not strange, I'm realistically challenged.

Posted on Thursday, July 12, 2007 in Little known facts, Strange and Unusual

Let me introduce you to Murgatroyd.


I found him in Amsterdam.  I was walking through a purple haze in the city and fell into a hole.  Inside the hole was a shop.  The shop had many strange and wonderful things for sale;  mystical figures hung from the ceiling, wizards and dragons leered from behind glass cages.  A battle scene in full flight was arranged on a large table in the centre of the room.  The floor was paved with daggers and jewels which glinted in spite of the shop’s dark and musty atmosphere. 

I ventured deep into the bowels of the shop and found Murgatroyd standing on a rock near the back wall.  I was instantly drawn to his friendly smile and his amber eyes which seemed to be brimming with hysteria.  I saw a lot of myself in him.  I approached the old salesman to enquire about his price. 

“Ahh.” he said… “So you are the fabled chosen one.”

Enough said!  I whisked Murgatroyd from his perch and completed the sale, gleaming with joy at my find.  As I left the shop I heard the old man shout something about a warning and feeding after midnight but he didn’t follow me so it couldn’t have been that important.

Murgatroyd is now firmly at home in my living-room.  He is a brilliant conversation-starter and has never been beaten in a staring match.  I also have strong suspicions that he comes to life at night-time and gets up to mischief, then places evidence in clever ways to frame my toddler.  I don’t mind.  He has his uses.   He seems to bring me good luck, if there is such a thing, and once he even turned a canvassing politician to stone right there on my front doorstep when I asked him to.  It took me a long time to smash the statue up and arrange him in the garden, but it was worth it.


I don’t talk to him or anything, don’t get me wrong here… I’m not completely mad.  Anyway I don’t need to.  I understand him and he understands me.  He’s low maintenance, he’s house-trained, and he doesn’t answer back.  Every weirdo should have one. 

This is the troll family which Murgatroyd bravely left behind

Bring on the comments

  1. b3n says:

    I know that shop!!! It’s just off Dam Square. The grotto upstairs is so cool. I was asked to leave once, coz apparently I had just been standing there for 40 mins staring at everything. I thought that I had taken a left turn on Reality street and had ended up in Stoned central.

  2. Granny says:

    Are you sure that’s not TAT? He is the spittin’ image. Whiskey nose, and all.

  3. K8 says:

    Amsterdam is a great place for standing in the same spot and staring at things for hours. I was like that when we stumbled across the red light district. When I got used to walking around there, I got to the stage where I didn’t know where NOT to look! What a totally f*&ked up city…

    Mammy, sure don’t we have a similar taste in men? Stick a pipe in Murgatroyd’s mouth and he wouldn’t be a million miles away from you-know-who…

  4. Baino says:

    I have an African man resting his chin on a CD rack that Clare bought home in a drunken stupor. I’ve named him Limpopo and I do talk to him. I tell him not to raid the fridge while we’re asleep. I don’t think he’s the culprit but somebody does . . .

  5. I think my grandfather used to vote for him…

  6. Brianf says:

    Heavens to Mergatroyd! Exit, stage left.

  7. SID says:

    I have a similar troll,but I’m too scared to post a pic of him.

  8. K8 says:

    Why does ‘Heavens to Murgatroyd’ sound familiar?

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