I don't pretend to be an ordinary cat.

I am the Elizabeth Taylor of the feline world.

Friday, November 27, 2009

OK, Seriously, This Time I'm for Real

Yeah, remember last May when I told you I was back???

And then I really didn't come back.

This time I'm for real, believe it or not.

Here's the deal:

The seven-year-old laptop, in which the brilliant mastermind "I Don't Pretend to be an Ordinary Cat" was created, basically died last summer. It was very tragic. First, the keyboard became unusable. So Karen found an old desktop keyboard in the garage and connected it via USB port. Then it started running really really SLOW. So Karen got a bunch of pen drives and saved all the kajillion documents and pictures and so forth, hoping this would alleviate some of the problem.

It didn't.

And then one day in August the computer just died. It happened around the first week or two after Karen returned to work like a regular human, so Sadie and I could have some peace and quiet around here. Anyway, in her infinite wisdom, Karen decided not to run right out and immediately purchase a new computer.

"Technology doesn't need to be such a driving force in our lives," Karen told me, as she typed her kajillionth Facebook status update on the Blackberry. "I'm not sure I even want to replace it. I have a computer at work for basic needs. Plus, we should spend our time at home as a family, not bugged eyed from the artificial light of a computer screen."

Oh please. Karen has become so granola in 2009. She's into all this "natural" crap and exercise and whatnot. She reads books about Chinese medicine, for the love of all that is holy. She gets up three days a week at 4:30 in the morning and does Pilates or Yoga. It's getting on my freakin' nerves. She even, get this, suggested that Sadie and I start going on walks with her.

First of all, I refuse to be paraded via leash throughout the neighborhood for a myriad of reasons, the main one being that I am a cat and such behavior is soooo canine.


Furthermore, if Karen was truly interested in my cardiovascular health, she wouldn't have uprooted me TWICE in 2008, only to settle in a one story home in an incredibly boring neighborhood. The only interesting thing that happens out here is the occasional rabbit getting into the backyard. We have no drunken rednecks or crazy neighbors or goats for my general entertainment through the day.

I mentioned this to Karen and suggested she talk to the woman who bought the old house and perhaps suggest a trade to her. Karen laughed at me.

So, Sadie and I do our best to stay in good health, chasing each other around the house, but it isn't the same without the stairs.

But I digress. . . back to my technology issue.

I told Karen that if she didn't replace the laptop soon, I would either leave, or pee in her bed, whichever would be easiest at the moment. So I sent her ridiculous self, along with the evil Jeff, the evil Jeff's not so evil wife Sylvia, Carlos, the evil Jeff's nephew, Myra, the evil Jeff's sister-in-law, and George, Myra's husband, out into the vast tundra of Texas late fall to stand in line at either Best Buy or Wal Mart.

"You people need to split up and divide and conquer," I told Karen and Sylvia at the Thursday strategy session, before my mid afternoon nap. "No one comes home unless I get a new laptop."

They must have taken me very seriously, as Karen left her parent's house in the early hours of morning and came home around eight with a box of modern technology.

However, I needed to set some ground rules with Karen in regards to allocating time for computer usage. We've agreed that Karen should not spend more than ten or fifteen minutes in the evening on Facebook crap. I feel that it is my duty as a far superior being to post at least one article per week as means of guidance, as one thing I've discovered in my hiatus is that you people are clearly ridiculous.

Oh yes, you are. All of you.

I watch CNN, people. And nothing has gotten better in regards to, well, anything. I simply cannot good conscience allow you people to continue into this downward spiral of ridiculousness.

Thus, I am back. Stay tuned, dedicated readers of discriminating taste. Many good things come to those who wait. . .

-- P (the fabulous and all knowing cat)

Sunday, May 17, 2009

The Cat is Back

Dear Readers of Discriminating Taste,

I've been gone quite a while, I know. It's a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. Quite frankly it was a hard winter. Karen bought us a smaller food dish and occasionally I have to eat the morsels which touch the bowl.

I hate that.

Furthermore, Karen refuses to leave the water running in the bathtub, so I'm stuck with water from our dish. The new house has no stairs or rednecks, so not only do I not have cardio of my preference, but I'm bored during the day without my theater of the drunken yokels. Plus no neighborhood cats hang out in our backyard.

The loneliness is palpable, my friends.

Sadie, who spends her days sleeping on the bed, is no fun. She's all concerned about "rules" and "laws" and such. Oh please; its' not like she can read to know such things.

And then there's Karen.

Karen has, like many Americans, developed an addiction to Facebook. Normally I really have no feelings regarding Karen's interests, but this one has caused a hindrance in my life; it means I can't use the computer in the evenings. To remedy this slight, I tried to distract Karen with my personal needs. This didn't work. So of course I then resorted to violence. Similar to a meth addict, Karen just screams and waves her hands around. I considered upping the anty a bit, but then Karen would end up at home all day on disability and we can't have that, can we?

I came up with a reasonable solution to this problem: Karen should buy me a computer. When I proposed the idea, she laughed at me.

"You're kidding, right?" she said, as she typed her fifth status update of the evening. "Buy your own damn computer, or blog during the day."

This is how genius is treated at my house.

Karen and I have come up with a reasonable arrangement with our computer usage and such. So I will soon be blogging once again regularly. I'm hoping my friends will forgive me for my disappearance. If they don't, oh well; I'm a cat. I don't have high regard for the "feelings" of humankind.

Anyway . . .

Since my last blog, the world has truly turned to crap. I will soon be telling you people how to get "things" back on track.


Penelope (the cat)

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

George Bush's Gut

Today is inauguration day.

I watched the festivities , as opposed to my normal afternoon routine of napping and grooming. Surprisingly, I found myself moved. And it wasn't ole Barry, my friends. It was what he brought out in audience. It was the seventy year old woman, and those like her, who saw and experienced segregation, who took a chartered bus from Atlanta to sit in the mall, freezing to death and witnessing history.

Most blogs will give you a nice uplifting soliloquy regarding the immanence of change and unless you are wealthy white dude, your future is quite bright.

The reality is nothing really changes. I'm not saying things won't get better, because, well, they usually do. Economies are cyclical and life turns around for whatever reason. Just remember that ole Barry doesn't have a magic wand and tomorrow the house down the street still might not have a "sold" sign on it.

It is what it is, my friends.

Anyway, enough of that. We hear at I Don't Pretend to be an Ordinary Cat are not particularly anti Barack Obama. We just aren't Kool-Aid drinkers, so to speak, for any politician. Think about it: if I didn't question authority, what would you people be reading? Nothing particularly interesting, my friends, that's for sure.

I've got a lot of concerns about this new administration: Obama is eloquent and good looking. What will I write about? Got me. My only complaint about ole Barry is he hasn't given me anything to complain about.

Yet, that is . . .

Anywho, I hope everyone is having a lovely January 20th. I'd like to end this will the best of George Bush the Sequel, just for the memories:

"This thaw -- took a while to thaw, it's going to take a while to unthaw."

"Anyone engaging in illegal financial transactions will be caught and persecuted."

"I'll be long gone before some smart person ever figures out what happened inside this Oval Office." (I think this might be sarcasm)

"I know the human being and fish can coexist peacefully."

"Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we."

"Rarely is the question asked: is our children learning?"

"Poor people aren't necessarily killers."

And, of course, my personal all time FAVORITE:

"Too many good docs are getting out of the business. Too many OB/ GYNs aren't able to practice their love with women all across this country."

And now a quote regarding ole George from the late Molly Ivins, who we would nominate for sainthood, that is, if the Vatican took sainthood nominations for non Catholics felines:

"Let me say for the umpteenth time, George W. is not a stupid man. The IQ of his gut, however, is open to debate. In Texas, his gut led him to believe the death penalty has a deterrent effect, even though he acknowledged there was no evidence to support his gut's feeling. When his gut, or something, causes him to announce that he does not believe in global warming -- as though it were a theological proposition -- we once again find his gut ruling that evidence is irrelevant. In my opinion, Bush's gut should not be entrusted with making peace in the Middle East." -- Molly Ivins

It's tragic we aren't going to get Ivins' perspective on Obama. Say what you will, but I would have a little more respect for our president if the queen all mighty of political writing was alive to take a swing at him. (Look at her writing about Bill Clinton if you don't believe me.) And that is why I miss ole Molly.

Go 'Stros

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

The Meaning of Life

Karen had an epiphany yesterday and I thought it was reasonable enough to share with you:

Basically life can be summed up by the philosophical words of Mel Brooks.

"As long as the world is turning and spinning, we're gonna be dizzy and we're gonna make mistakes."

"Bad taste is simply saying the truth before it should be said."

"Everything we do in life is based on fear, especially love."

"Humor is just another defense against the universe."

"I don't believe in this business of being behind, better to be in front."

"If presidents can't do it to their wives, they do it to their country."

"If Shaw and Einstein couldn't beat death, what chance have I got? Practically none."

"Life literally abounds in comedy if you just look around you."

"Look, I don't want to wax philosophic, but I will say that if you're alive you've got to flap your arms and legs, you've got to jump around a lot, for life is the very opposite of death, and therefore you must at very least think noisy and colorfully, or you're not alive."

"Rhetoric does not get you anywhere, because Hitler and Mussolini are just as good at rhetoric. But if you can bring these people down with comedy, they stand no chance."

"Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you fall into an open sewer and die."

"You're always a little disappointing in person because you can't be the edited essence of yourself."

Have a lovely day, fair readers of discriminating taste.

Go 'Stros

Sunday, January 11, 2009

What a Bunch of Boobs


So tell me, fair readers: what are your thoughts on the nursing mom picture? First of all, I haven't seen the picture, other than a quick flash (no pun intended) on the evening news and can't find it anymore on the Internet.

Personally, I don't give a rat's ass. You humans are so stupid about nudity, it just amazes me. I run around the house stark raving naked all day long and enjoy it thoroughly. So does Sadie. In fact, we only wear clothes when Karen puts them on us for random reasons, which make no sense to us anyway. On the other hand, Karen is clothed ALL THE TIME. In fact, she is so freaky about nudity that she puts a towel over the shower door so she can't see her own naked derriere in the bathroom mirror as she bathes.

The other day, I heard her talking in horror about a naked woman in the locker room at the gym.

"She was naked," Karen said. "Just standing there naked."

I asked Karen about this. She said that most people are not all out naked in the lady's locker room. Most people change in the bathroom stalls.

Whatever, that is totally beside the point. What I want to share with you is a story that I've been carrying for almost two years because I haven't had the opportunity to tell it:

Karen was at SuperTarget with her mom. (For the local folks, yes, the Target close to Karen's mom's house-- the coolest stuff ALWAYS happens over there, by the way.) She saw a woman with a blanket draped over her, with something obviously under it. Karen assumed that she was nursing (while shopping). The woman was completely covered. Karen saw her twice as she shopped and both times the ta-tas were under wraps (pun intended).

Karen separated from her mom and was looking at DVD players. As she looked she heard a woman talking loudly at the end of the aisle. Karen naturally moved in that directions because she was comparing the prices of DVD players and that's just the direction she was going. As moved closer to the woman, she could hear her ranting about her 12-year-old son being "exposed" to such a thing in public. She was just horrified. The man she was speaking to (I'm assuming was the store manager) kept saying that since she was completely covered he really couldn't do much. The woman kept ranting and raving and freaking out and finally walked towards Karen, who was trying very hard to maintain without laughing hysterically.

"You just had to move closer to see the drama didn't you?" the woman shouted at Karen, with her twelve-year-old in tow. (You gotta feel sorry for that poor kid.)

"Lady, it's a boob," she replied, as the woman stormed off. "Get over it."

A couple of years ago, a bunch of nursing mothers gathered at Houston's Galleria and had a "nurse in", I guess you would call it, all over the mall, when a nursing mother was asked to move to an area for nursing mothers.

My question is this, human readers: if the boobs are covered who cares? And if they aren't, who cares? Isn't that the purpose of the ta-tas to begin with? The reality is your uber repressed Puritanical society is so tightly wound that you guys are sexualizing things that just frankly aren't sexual.

Again, if it bugs you then don't look. As far as the kiddoes, well, wouldn't you rather them see breasts used for their God-given purpose then, well, tanned and stuffed with silicon on the pages of Playboy? Because trust me, dear readers, a human twelve-year-old male has totally seen boobs-- probably not in the way his mother would prefer.

Anyway, that is my rant for today. I'd love to hear your opinions on this.