Lol, no, but thanks for the thought, Brasspounder. This is but another episode in our continuing story here of 'Tales of the Ministry of Mayhem.' Populated with megalomaniac cats and wicked witches, it's been running a couple of years now on UHH, with the occasional break for a serious photo. Just to give us a little comedy relief from the straight stuff.

The stories accompany my photos to add a bit of fun to what I do here, and other folks here will often join in with humorous comments related to the current chapter and will add photos and posts of their own (UHH member 'Geezer' is notorious for adding to the laughs).

I've regrettably been out of action for a couple of months here, as one of my 'wicked witches' has been very ill and needed my help, and I've not had time to be online.

I hope you'll enjoy the stories as they progress, and welcome to UHH!

You could try it. Fantasy novels of witches, warlocks, elves etc in modern society are a cult/fad thing and sell fairly well. A few have cats, dogs and other animals as familiars and/or main characters. I have read some that were very entertaining. You might try it, could finance a few new cameras and lenses. Kindle, Nook and others do have self published e-books produced by what I think of as "hobbyist authors" for sale.
But, that might make it too much like work and ruin a lot of the fun.

The flying monkeys are in rebellion and playing hardball over a new contract with the Ministry's wicked witches, threatening a fly-off if their demands are not met. Among their demands: full healthcare and retirement benefits, lunch breaks, along with a five-day work week. And no more silly hats.

The Martian, Minister of Mayhem, took a conciliatory tone until an unnamed flying monkey in the crowd of picketers flung some monkey poo at him.

That put an end to any attempt at negotiations. With Madame P still indisposed, the Martian had only two alternatives: knuckle under, or bring in an enforcer. And the Martian never knuckles under. He placed a call for help to the WWoNA (Wicked Witches of North America) headquarters in Salem. A bit of haggling over the price (the Martian gives the WWoNA a lot of business, and expects a hefty discount for their services), and a Dark Lady known for her ruthlessness was dispatched.

And thus the Ministry today welcomes Dark Lady Kimberly ('Call me Kim and see what happens!') P, who knows all about monkey business, and takes a dim view of it.

Sorry, monkeys, as of today, it's no soup for you!

The flying monkeys are in rebellion and playing hardball over a new contract with the Ministry's wicked witches, threatening a fly-off if their demands are not met. Among their demands: full healthcare and retirement benefits, lunch breaks, along with a five-day work week. And no more silly hats.

The Martian, Minister of Mayhem, took a conciliatory tone until an unnamed flying monkey in the crowd of picketers flung some monkey poo at him.

That put an end to any attempt at negotiations. With Madame P still indisposed, the Martian had only two alternatives: knuckle under, or bring in an enforcer. And the Martian never knuckles under. He placed a call for help to the WWoNA (Wicked Witches of North America) headquarters in Salem. A bit of haggling over the price (the Martian gives the WWoNA a lot of business, and expects a hefty discount for their services), and a Dark Lady known for her ruthlessness was dispatched.

And thus the Ministry today welcomes Dark Lady Kimberly ('Call me Kim and see what happens!') P, who knows all about monkey business, and takes a dim view of it.

Sorry, monkeys, as of today, it's no soup for you!

The flying monkeys are in rebellion and playing hardball over a new contract with the Ministry's wicked witches, threatening a fly-off if their demands are not met. Among their demands: full healthcare and retirement benefits, lunch breaks, along with a five-day work week. And no more silly hats.

The Martian, Minister of Mayhem, took a conciliatory tone until an unnamed flying monkey in the crowd of picketers flung some monkey poo at him.

That put an end to any attempt at negotiations. With Madame P still indisposed, the Martian had only two alternatives: knuckle under, or bring in an enforcer. And the Martian never knuckles under. He placed a call for help to the WWoNA (Wicked Witches of North America) headquarters in Salem. A bit of haggling over the price (the Martian gives the WWoNA a lot of business, and expects a hefty discount for their services), and a Dark Lady known for her ruthlessness was dispatched.

Kim and see what happens!') P, who knows all about monkey business, and takes a dim view of it.

Sorry, monkeys, as of today, it's no soup for you!