I am the Elizabeth Taylor of the feline world.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

White Trash Theater: A Play in Two Acts

So far we've had a pretty uneventful Christmas.

We visited Karen's parents for a couple of days, and now are chilling at home with Karen, who doesn't go back to work for another week. I've been helping Karen paint the kitchen and dining room. (Help in this case means sitting in a chair by the back door sunning while Karen curses and screams while attempting to remove the SIX layers of wallpaper behind the refrigerator.)

Not much to write home about right?

That is, until last night:

Thus, Sadie, Karen, and I would like to share a story straight from White Trash Theater.

In its original form this story contained a significant amount of profanity. Since many of my readers are surfing at work, I have decided to remove the profain language.

However, if I were your boss I'd fire your lazy ass. I'm not paying you people to goof around on the computer.

That being said, I'm not paying you at all. So please continue to read my blog.

Anyway, back to White Trash Theatre

As you know we live in redneck Hell, meaning if we walk to the end of the alley leading to the street we can see a line of fireworks stands up for your enjoyment between Christmas and New Years (and a couple of days afterwards). Karen hates the firework stands for a variety of reason I've mentioned in previous posts (for more information on this subject, see http://penelopeandsadie.blogspot.com/2007/07/redneck-hell-and-skanks-who-live-here.html). Anyway, the stands are up and once again it sounds likes Afghanistan out in our neck of the woods.

But that's besides the point.

Act One:

Karen, Sadie and I were on the way home from Karen's parents when the SUV driving in front of us came to a sudden stop. The driver got out of the car and walked to the side. Karen, a curious sort, rolled down her window to hear what was going on:

SUV Driver: What the Hell are you doing?

At this point we see that he is talking to a blonde woman, about 38ish, wearing a sea foam green tube top and denim shorts.

Tube Top: I'm standin' here (Here being the middle of a two lane street in which people drive roughly 50 mph.)

SUV Driver: You're in the middle of the street.

Tube Top: I can stand wherever I want.

At this point, Karen realizes that to her right, on the shoulder of the road, a group of people have set up a makeshift party in front of a fireworks stand. Of course, this party appeared to include alcohol.

SUV Driver: Get the (expletive) out of the road.

Tube Top: Watch your(same expletive) language you cheap bastard.

I have no idea how Tube Top knew this man was a "cheap bastard". Perhaps they were high school sweethearts back at Choate Rosemary, got engaged senior year at Harvard and broke up due to SUV Driver being a "cheap bastard", thus causing Tube Top to, well, become Tube Top, who now resorts to drinking on the side of the road outside a fireworks stand.


Next was just a bunch of screaming and yelling about "you can't be in the street" and "yes I can", sprinkled with the occasional expletive used in a variety of formats. Isn't it amazing how that word (and we all know to which word I am referring) can be used in a myriad of ways?

Anyway . . .

Oddly enough none of Tube Top's buddies came to her defense. They starred at the exchanged, just as I did, shook their heads, and began pouring a substance from a bottle into a variety of paper cups.

Karen, in defense of SUV Driver (and because she really just wanted to go home), honked her horn. In return SUV Driver flips off Karen.

Cheap and Classy

At this point there are two cars behind Karen. A police car was not too far away (probably needed to bring fireworks home to the kiddoes) and pulled around Karen's car to see the live action for himself. At this moment, the Boone's Farm tasting group is collecting their products very quickly and heading off into the night (or in the direction of the fireworks stand) with a Budweiser cooler in tow.

Police Officer: What the Hell is going on here?

SUV Driver: She won't get out of road.

Police Officer: Get out of the road.

Tube Top: I don't have to!

Police Officer: You do unless you want to go with me.

Tube Top: You can't arrest me that's against my constitutional rights.

I'm no lawyer, but did Thomas Jefferson plan to protect drunk woman wearing tube tops in December from being arrested for standing in the middle of the street? Interesting constitutional debate . . .

Police Officer: I have too much to do to stand around here and handle this petty (expletive-- means fecal matter). Get out of the road now or I'm cuffing you.

Tube Top got out of the road.

Police Officer headed off.

SUV Driver got back into his car.

Karen drove home.


Act Two:

Karen is sitting in the living room reading a book. Sadie is-- I don't know where Sadie is, it doesn't matter. I'm hanging out in the entry hall.

Doorbell Rings

Karen looks through the peep hole, sighs, and opens the door. Tube Top is standing on her porch.

Karen: Yes

Tube Top (kind of swaying): Did you just get home?

Karen: (pausing) Yes

Tube Top: Did you see that man hit me?

Karen: Who hit you?

Tube Top: That man in the Explorer.

(Actually it was a Tahoe-- but who cares)

Karen: No I didn't see him hit you.

Tube Top: Well he hit me.

Karen: I'm sorry.

Tube Top: I'll split the money with you if you change your mind about what you saw.

Karen: That's OK. I'd rather not perjure myself. I'll see you later.

And Karen shuts the door.


We are hoping to move before summer. I don't think we'll ever have neighbors like these again.

Thanks for the memories, Redneck Hell.


Saturday, December 29, 2007

Rush Limbaugh's Cat

"My cat -- here's how you can get fooled. My cat comes to me when she wants to be fed. I have learned this. I accept it for what it is. Many people in my position would think my cat's coming to me because she loves me. Well, she likes me, and she is attached, but she comes to me when she wants to be fed. And after I feed her -- guess what -- she's off to wherever she wants to be in the house, until the next time she gets hungry. She's smart enough to know she can't feed herself. She's actually a very smart cat. She gets loved. She gets adoration. She gets petted. She gets fed. And she doesn't have to do anything for it, which is why I say this cat's taught me more about women, than anything my whole life. But we put voices in their mouths."
-- Rush Limbaugh

Rush Limbaugh made this statement over a year ago. According to Karen the comment explains why Mr. Limbaugh has been married three times.

I was offended as well. How dare Limbaugh compare my species to humankind? Mortal women are way needier than cats. I know this because I live with one and I've heard her analyze and decipher all kinds of ridiculousness with friends (female ones). Karen calls this "talking". I call it "absurd", "needy", or just plain "stupid" and it's tying up the phone line when I'm waiting to hear from Les Moonves regarding the terms of my reality show.

(Stop laughing-- if those yahoos who live in Hugh Hefner's house can have one why not me???)

Anyway . . .

Mr. Limbaugh doesn't comprehend the reality of his domestic life. He lives in the home of a cat. Not the other way around. Anyone who disagrees with this has obviously never experienced life with a cat. Furthermore, if he doesn't take care of his job as the man who lives in the home of the cat (or hire someone to take care of these responsibilities), said cat will send him on his merry way.


Granted, Karen and I have our ups and downs but she knows what I expect of her and she knows the consequences for not completing those tasks. For the most part, she does a half-ass job and I either accept it or I retaliate by having Sadie vomit on random objects in the house. This is much easier than packing her stuff and putting it out by the front door while she's at work.

Limbaugh better watch out. Pumpkin (Limbaugh's cat-- I looked this up) might reconsider the relationship. Probably she won't just leave him. Here are some things Pumpkin might consider as revenge to her master:

Actually, I don't think I'm revealing feline secrets here. If ole Pumpkin has a plan I don't want to give the details away.

I haven't listened to Rush Limbaugh in quite a while. If any of you guys are fans, please send him over to my blog so that he may be enlightened. Perhaps he will have what alcoholics (or drug addicts) call a moment of clarity and begin spreading good will to all mankind.

Not bloody likely, through.

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

And a Merry Christmas to all . . .

Karen did not get to sending out the Christmas letter I so meticulously labored over. Thus, I am posting it here for all to read.
Dear Friends:

Karen asked me, on behalf of our family, to write the first annual Christmas letter. At first I told her no. I am busy enough with my blog and other household activities to take on anything else. But after some whining and the offer of a shameless plug, I finally conceded. After all, Karen wouldn’t do it. And Sadie is functionally illiterate, so that just leaves me.

I’m so put upon.

Karen and I got into a heated argument around New Year's Day. I wanted to start a blog. I expected Karen to be completely supportive of me and type the entries. She refused. Because I had to learn to type, the blog timeline was set back by three months.

February is the month in which we wait anxiously for baseball spring training to begin. Sadie and I got shots. Karen yelled at me for going after the vet’s glasses.

I continued to work on my typing skills, with little help from Karen.

We enjoyed watching and listening to many a spring training game during the month of March. After much thought, Karen decided to return to teaching, which meant Karen would no longer work twelve hour days six days a week and would be home more often (lucky me).

Continued to hone typing skills. . .

April 25, 2007 is a date worth earmarking as historic: I launched my blog, no thanks to selfish Karen, who refused to type.

Karen began interviewing for teaching positions in early May. Happily, on her 33rd birthday, she was offered a position, a blessing in that the offer was in her favorite area: American Literature and AP Language and Composition.

Sadie and I got ponchos from Karen’s friend Robyn, who must be a famous fashion designer, as her work is such high quality.

I don’t remember much about June. The most significant event was most likely our neighbor’s toilet overflowing into the living room and Karen cursing his existence.

Karen’s brother evil Jeff and his lovely and very pregnant wife Sylvia moved out of Karen’s parent’s house and into their new home. After months of excessive vomiting and general ill health, baby Sofie was born a few days later. She is really cute, although evil Jeff’s offspring. Somewhere this month we stopped watching the ‘Stros, as their season was abysmal.

Karen began her new job. We had two false alarm hurricane scares. Out of boredom, I began turning the water on in the kitchen sink while Karen was at work. This didn't make Karen particularly happy, not that it matters.

Karen is still working. She told me she would continue this habit until May, at which time she would not work for three months. Personally, I really don’t care about this as long as all my needs are met. She seems to like her new job and the people she works with—at least I’m not hearing about general irritations if said irritations do exist.


October was a very disconcerting month for me: Karen’s mother made Sadie and I Halloween costumes. This travesty set forth a series of events, which merit perhaps a call to the ACLU.

The week before Thanksgiving, Karen brought home Santa hats for Sadie and me. We are now expected to wear them in front of the Christmas tree and pose for pictures. This little activity was quite a disaster and some blood was shed in the process.

Karen’s career is taking up a significant amount of time. I’m having trouble getting her to complete simple household tasks like adding enough food to our bowl so that I don’t have to eat the morsels which touch the actual bowl itself.

Thanksgiving week, Karen began hard core preparation of her home. She would like to get it on the market before year’s end (we shall see. . .)

The last week of the month of November, Karen bought a brand new car. This is the first brand new car she’s ever owned, so she is very happy.

Karen is still working on the house. We’ve packed up much of our stuff and over Christmas break Sadie and I will be moving into her parent’s home until all this house stuff is settled and I get a new place to live. Thankfully, Karen’s parents bought a new computer; if we must live there I need to have internet access to work on my blog.

I am considering branching out into the television arena. Right now I'm developing a reality show aptly titled "I Don't Pretend to be an Ordinary Cat". I'm thinking the networks will pick it up before next spring.

All in all, it’s been quite a year of excitement and change. Karen, Sadie and I all hope your year has been as fruitful as ours. We wish you many blessings and much enjoyment in the future.

Much Love,

Penelope, Sadie, and Karen

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Georgia O'Keefe and the Ladies of Rick's Caberet

Have you ever ventured to an Internet search engine, typed exactly what you wanted information about, and found a myriad of data about numerous things, although interesting, not suited to your purpose?

I caught a bit on the news this evening about a "stripper tax". Intrigued, I went to Google to get more information. From the results of "stripper tax" I discovered that in Australia there are some very interesting tax write offs for workers in "adult" industries:


From this information, I have another question: is prostitution legal in Australia?

Anyway, back to the Texas stripper tax . . .


Actually, it's not a "tax" per say, but more like a "surcharge" of five bucks per head at each and every establishment which provides live "nude" entertainment.

What constitutes "nude"?

Does "nude" mean "nude"? Or does "nude" mean "topless"???


The projected revenue on this little endeavor is 44 million smackers.

That's 8,800,000 lecherous old men, frat boys, out of town businessmen, dudes at bachelor parties, and whatever other stereotype would enjoy being entertained by practically naked women.

To put this figure in perspective, the population of Texas is 23,507,783. The population of the city of Houston (fourth largest city in the United States) is 2,144,491 (2006 numbers).

I'm a little shocked.

8.8 million visitors to strip bars each year in Texas?

Evidently, these businesses in Texas have slightly more than 24,000 patrons a day.

That's a lot of boob watchin'.

Does this mean the circumstances in which Anna Nicole Smith met J. Howard Marshall are normal???

Anyway . . .

Owners of these establishments are whining about losing business. A couple of lawsuits exist. One of which cites "artistic freedom of expression".

Pole dancing is a form of "artistic freedom of expression"???

Sure, why not??? I'm very confident that the fellows with the National Endowment of the Arts would be tickled pink to fund the artistic expression of strippers.

It would give Republicans something to whine about.

Anyway, the state mandated cover charge begins January 1st. The money goes to sexual assault prevention and health care for the uninsured.

Kind of like the lottery supporting education.


Thursday, December 13, 2007

What do Charlie Sheen and Mo Vaughn have in common???

While watching Good Night and Good Luck, I was inspired to post about McCarthyism and the like.

The timing on this is totally ironic, as the Mitchell Report was released just yesterday. I downloaded in a PDF file, thinking I could post it as a link or something, but I don't know how.

You can email me if you want it at penelopeandsadie@aol.com.

Be warned: the bugger is 409 pages long.

I don't want to bore you with a summary. No, my agenda is much different.

I'm just going to talk about the interesting stuff:

To begin with, baseball dropped the ball (I just had to use that pun) and "missed the early warning signs of a growing crisis" (22).

This is my favorite example of the fore mentioned ball dropping:

". . . bullpen catcher with the Montreal Expos was arrested for trying to send marijuana back to Florida with the Florida Marlins’ luggage. He later told Major League Baseball security officials that he had supplied drugs to nearly two dozen major league players, including eight players for whom he said he had procured steroids" (23).

First of all, who sends pot "back to Florida"? Isn't pot readily available in Florida? Granted, this is pre 9/11 security, but what dumb ass tries to smuggle drugs in luggage destined for an airplane? Talk about a sense of entitlement . . .

To be fair baseball acts now on such incidents. They are seeing the errors of the past and trying to rebuild.

But it gets so much better. . .

Before 2002, baseball had a "reasonable cause" policy with steroid testing (23).

What constitutes "reasonable cause"?

Are they looking for shrunken testicles? Back achne? Bouts of rage or general obnoxiousness?

And then there's Kirk Radomski, Mets clubhouse employee. This amazes me:

Radomski provided both Mitchell and the Feds with cancelled checks, deposit slips, phone records, and shipping labels (26).

I always wondered why Charlie Sheen used personal checks to pay for services rendered by the employees of Heidi Fleiss. I think the same question applies here.

Again, what a sense of entitlement.

I read a good portion of this and got bored with the rest, so I am putting it aside for now. I don't like the infamous list. It's too Red Scare. Some of the evidence is heresay and speculation. My philosophy of justice doesn't swing that way. I don't want to wreck someones entrance into the Hall of Fame based on he said/ she said, possibly with agendas.

Now we have baseball's favorite asshole Jose Canseco shouting that the list should be longer and naming others who should join in his personal infamy. My favorite mercenary Roger Clemons hired famed Houston attorney Rusty Hardin (represented accounting firm Arthur Anderson after the Enron debacle and the family of Anna Nicole Smith's old man-- you remember-- "Screw you, Rusty") to see what legal action could be taken in this case. I'm assuming he feels this is a form of slander.

That or Mr. Clemens has quite a sense of entitlement as well.

Who knows, maybe it is.

Any time large sums of money are connected to performance, there will be cheating. That doesn't make it acceptable, but it will happen.

And it took a cat to come up with this epiphany?

I'm now bored of this subject. Right now I'm watching a documentary about fundamental Christians in the United States. My favorite Baptist Jimmy Carter is about to discuss the fallacies of fundamentalism.

And them I'm off for a nap.

Go 'Stros!!!


Page Numbers indicate information from the Mitchell Report

Other Sources Used:

Official Boston Red Sox Website

CBS Evening News

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Tis the Season of Six to Eight Black Men

David Sedaris, who has a book coming out this summer, wrote an essay about Christmas traditions in the Netherlands.


I wish I knew how to embed the You Tube screen. Alas, I do not, so you'll have to click on the link.

I've watched this like a hundred times and it totally cracks me up still.

Adios Amigos!!!

Saturday, December 8, 2007

Good Night and Good Luck

"We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty. When the loyal opposition dies, I think the soul of America dies with it."

-- Edward R. Murrow

Karen bought the DVD of Good Night and Good Luck. If you haven't seen this film, it's important.


As patriotic Americans, you should rent the DVD. Karen think it's great too, but she's not credible in that, as you all well know, she is in love with George Clooney. When asked, Karen said she didn't understand the Clooney obsession until seeing Good Night and Good Luck. Then she caught a full blown case of the Clooney fever. It's quite a dilemma for her, in that her allegiance to Colin Firth went back to the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice.

Anyway . . .

The film is about Edward R. Murrow's interview of Joseph McCarthy on See It Now, a news show during a time when news shows didn't involve Britney Spears or O.J. Simpson.
How odd. . . I bet they weren't broadcasting pedophile stings, either.

Interesting fact: the original three major networks (actually two at that time) were required to broadcast thirty minutes of national news every evening, as each was making boo coos of money and this thirty minutes was seen as a way to "give back". The news isn't profitable.
That is, until news became more sensationalized. Truth" is relative in the media. I don't know who to believe most of the time. My solution is to believe no one and get the information from a myriad of sources, assuming that each is telling me a different part of the "truth".
Anyway that's my answer, I'd love to hear others.
Since we're on the subject of media sensationalism and journalistic responsibility, I thought this pick for Songs Karen Likes and I Approve was appropriate:
Dirty Laundry (Don Henley)
"Come and whisper in my ear. Give us dirty laundry."
That is, after my nap. This philosophical thinking has made me quite tired.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

Born to Run, except when Dancing in the Dark through the Badlands wearing a Brilliant Disguise

OK, when Karen bought her car she got six months free of satellite radio. Philosophically speaking, Karen is against the whole idea of "paying" for radio.

"What does this do to local radio?" Karen asked me. "How would we listen to Astros games without local radio?"

This isn't an issue that concerns me all too much. I only ride in a car every couple of weeks or so. I watch the Astros on television at home.

Furthermore, all Karen knew about satellite radio was it made Howard Stern a very wealthy man. Karen is against everything and anything affiliated with Howard Stern. Let me say it this way: Karen is accepting of Rush Limbaugh, despite disagreeing with about 99 percent of everything he says. She even occasionally will listen to his take, just for the purpose of hearing another side. It all goes back to "I may not agree with what you say, but I will fight to the death for your right to say it" (Voltaire).

Unless, that is, you are Howard Stern. Karen believes since Stern contributes NOTHING to the good of America, he should be strung up and eaten by wild dogs.

Anyway, dignity and concern for common man-- radio guys working hard in the local market-- and her puritanical philosophical disagreement with Stern has now gone to the wayside.

Karen discovered E Street Radio.

AKA all Bruce Springsteen all day, all the time.

Please remember satellite doesn't have commercial interruptions.

Karen told me she hears "Thunder Road" every time she gets into the car.

This is a sad state of affairs.

Anyway our song today, which Karen likes and I approve:

"Human Touch" (Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band)



G0 Stros!!!

Sunday, December 2, 2007

It's Not Easy Being Green

Karen decided two weeks ago that she wanted a new car.
To help her out, I did a little research and got several quotes from dealers around town on cars I thought would be suitable for us. My thinking at the time was perhaps something like a Mercedes S class.
"What in God's name are you doing?" Karen said when I handed her the bids. "I'm not spinding $85,000 on a car."

Why do I even bother?
Anyway, Karen ended up buying a kiwi green Ford Escape. It's pretty cute. She's happy.
I still want the Mercedes though.
Oh well . . .

Friday, November 30, 2007

Just Put It On My Tab

Once again, it's going to be a long year:


OK, so ole Rudy has 24 hour security, due to the myriad of death threats he was receiving at the time from disgruntled mobsters, hookers, and smokers in the Big Apple. For this reason, when Giuliani visited his lady friend in the Hampton's, security joined him.


I guess so.

However the $34,000 security tab was billed to the New York City loft board.

I'm not sure if the loft board was reimbursed. I found two different accounts of this story: one said yes the other said yeah right.

Maybe he should have just asked the former Ms. Nathan to visit him at Gracie Mansion?

Oh, that's right-- he couldn't. Part of his separation agreement from Donna Hanover was his girl Judy couldn't enter the home of his estranged wife and children.

Does anyone find it incredibly ironic that this is the candidate leading the party known for "family values"? His own freakin' children won't campaign for him.

I don't know what else to say. I'm glad I'm not "allowed" to vote. This here's slim pickins.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Conversations with a Solicitor (A Play in One Act)

Scene: Karen is sitting on the couch reading a book. Sadie is asleep on the hearth of the fireplace. I am relaxing on the ottoman. We are listening to an old Peter Gabriel CD.
Phone rings.
Karen: Hello?
American Sounding Phone Voice: Hello may I speak to Penelope Cat?
Karen: What?
Phone Voice: May I speak to Penelope Cat please?
brief pause
Karen: Penelope Cat can't be bothered right now. I am her personal assistant. How may I help you?
Phone Voice: We just wanted to let Ms. Cat know that she has been preapproved for a very common credit card in which Karen is "preapproved" about three times daily.
Karen: Let me get this straight: you are preapproving Penelope for credit.
Phone Voice: Yes
Karen: Penelope Cat?
Phone Voice: Yes
Karen: Just to be clear, do you have Penelope's middle name listed as "the"?
Phone Voice: (very deadpan) Ma'am, my computer screen doesn't show middle names or initials.
Another brief pause
Karen: Regardless, you are offering Penelope a credit line.
Phone Voice: May I please speak to Penelope?
Karen: As I said, Penelope can't be bothered. I'm her personal assistant and you'll have to deal with me.
Phone Voice: For her to access this opportunity, I need to speak directly with her.
Karen: That might be a little difficult.
Phone Voice: And why is that?
Karen: Because Penelope is a cat. Literally. Cat is not her last name.
Phone Voice: What?
Karen: Penelope is a cat.
Phone Voice: Are you sure?
Karen: Unless she's morphed into her true form, queen of the harpies, I'm pretty sure she's a cat.
Once again, I couldn't make this up.
So yes, I was preapproved for a credit card. This is ridiculous, as we all know I am certainly not going to do the shopping. If I do that Karen becomes obsolete. Karen briefly considered creating me a social security number, but she decided it was too much trouble.
Besides, my last name is not "Cat". I have a last name, thank you very much.
Any ideas about how this all occurred???
Karen swears she hasn't used my name on any forms. Her fake name is "Bridget Jones" and her fake number is 976- BABE.
Other Issues:
Songs which Karen like and I approve:
Solsbury Hill by Peter Gabriel
It's profound.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Ho Ho Ho, NOT

Dear Readers:

As you can tell from the evidence to your left, I have experienced great travesties against my person over the holiday weekend. To begin with, Karen, who went shopping at some ungodly hour Friday, purchased a new camera. With this camera, she is now documenting her horrific abuse towards me. I am posting the evidence of my humiliation for all to see.
Obviously, this is a grave situation. I need you, as witnesses, to call your local congressman, or chapter of the ACLU and report Karen and her travesties, which have to be in violation of the Geneva Convention.
Someone should call Bono. He totally would understand and speak out against the abuse I am experiencing. So would Oprah. I could later be on her show and discuss my hardships.

After you have contacted the appropriate authorities and Karen is taken away, Sadie and I will need a new home. After much discussion, we've decided this is what we desire in housing:
1. No pets. Sadie gets all huffy over other cats. I don't like the attitudes of dogs. They're pleasers. I don't need a pleaser in my life. That is, unless the pleaser is pleasing me.
2. We expect 1000 thread count sheets. and our own pillows on the bed in the master bedroom. Sadie and I have agreed to share the bed, but it must be at least a queen size.
3. Sadie and I want our own individual food dish. We've been sharing one bowl for years and it's getting old.
4. We expect chauffeur services. I don't know where we want to go, but we expect someone to drive us.
5. We want a running water fountain. If we don't get this, we will turn on the water in the kitchen sink. This is only a problem because we aren't particularly good at turning the faucet off.
6. I am sick and tired of our old Target or PetSmart or wherever collars. I found suitable collar on the Tiffany & Company web site, which would be far more appropriate.
7. I require a personal assistant to run errands and help organize my plot to overthrow the government.
I am now home and all is quiet. Karen is working on stuff for her job, so she's leaving me alone right now. Sadie hid the Santa hat in the fireplace. Since Karen never uses the fireplace, this shouldn't be an issue. I'm still concerned. What's next? Dressing me as cupid on Valentine's Day?

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Life in the Fast Lane . . . with David Bowie

So much for posting every day, huh???

What do you expect from me: I'm a cat. You should be amazed that I post as often as I do. I've been quite busy as of late on a myriad of projects at home, you know.

Karen partially lost her voice (either due to allergies, congestion, or her career choice in a field which requires much talking). She sounds like Megatron from the Transformers right now. At night when she sleeps it's more like Darth Vader. This turn of events (although quite humorous) is really putting a wrench in my plans for world domination. Don't ask how-- it just does.

Anyway, Karen and I were surfing the web and ran across Sir Paul's latest:


I like this song, which shouldn't surprise anyone, as I typically dig Paul McCartney. But don't the female dancers look like ole one leg???

Let me know your thoughts.

Speaking of music, another occurrence has almost restored my faith in American taste and sophistication:

Did you know that the Eagles new CD, which sold exclusively at WalMart (a.k.a. Satan's Five and Dime), OUTSOLD BRITNEY SPEARS???

Karen loves the Eagles. However, she does not shop at WalMart, as is philosophically opposed to any place of business staying open 24/7, with the exception of two days a year(Christmas and Thanksgiving). For this reason, we are currently listening to Long Road Out of Eden on The Eagles official website.

Our thoughts: the new tracks are too country. And not that awesome country involving getting drunk and committing some form of domestic abuse. More like country attempting some form of legitimacy. Granted, The Eagles are a bit country-- Don Henley is a Texan after all. But we're not liking it all too much.

The old songs are still great-- but I've head those a million times.

Karen is actually more of a Henley fan than an Eagles fan, truth be known. According to her,
his last solo release, Inside Job, was great and very much underrated. She loves both Building the Perfect Beast and End of the Innocence. That's Karen for you-- pretty much adult contemporary.

She was sad a while back when her favorite Police song was played on an oldies station. The other day she discovered that not only was she not familiar with most of the songs on current popular radio, she had no desire to acquaint herself with them.

On that note, I am now announcing a new feature to my blog: songs that Karen likes and I approve.

Anyway, we are relying on You Tube and the like for video splices.

These will be randomly posted. I'm not promising any regularity, as I'm quite busy grooming and devising a plan to overthrow the government.

Anyway, today's song in which Karen likes and I approve:

Life on Mars by David Bowie


This goes back to 1973. (Karen wasn't even born until 1974.)


Featured earlier this year in the Edie Sedgwick biopic Factory Girl, this song is far better than the movie. In fact, the preview of the movie was about twenty times better than the actual ninety something minutes product about a woman who died at the age of 28 from a barbiturate overdose. Granted, she hung out with Andy Warhol and camped out in the Chelsea Hotel, but I didn't see anything else of much importance. Besides, humans don't become interesting until after thirty, so why bother???

Those are my thoughts. FYI: I'm leaving tomorrow evening to spend the week at Karen's parents (Thanksgiving Holidays). I've haven't visited since the whole Paparazzi fiasco at Halloween. Hopefully this will go much better.

Wish me luck. I'll be back probably by Saturday.

Go 'Stros!!!

Have a Fabulous Thanksgiving.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Go Crimson

Readers who are also bloggers as well:

Do you have a stat counter???

I am totally into this stat counter thing.

Basically, I have a hidden counter on my blog that tells me about my readers. This is the type of information I get:

1. Number of readers.
I know how many people load my page. I know how many people return to my page because it's just so fabulous.

2. General Location of Readers
No it doesn't give me your street address or your first and last name. That would be creepy. Mostly it gives me cities and countries. Sometimes it gives me places of business. So I know who is "surfing" at work!!!

Why is this so awesome, you ask?

I don't know-- it just is.

I felt really cool the other day when my page was loaded by someone in the offices of the Harvard Crimson. Of course, this should not be particularly surprising to you, as we all know how valuable my blog is to intelligent society.

Other interesting places of higher learning which loaded my page:

St. Laurence University



Other interesting facts:

56 percent of my readers are American. 36 percent are Canadian. Three percent are unknown. Two percent are Australian and British. One percent derive from Singapore and Germany. One half percent come from Pakistan, New Zealand, or Italy.

I don't know about the U.S. breakdown by state. Much of my American readership is from Texas, I think. I've got readers all over greater Houston, greater Dallas, Tyler, Austin, and many other Texas locations. I also have readers in New York, California, Florida, Arkansas, Louisiana, Utah, and many others.

I'm popular on the east and west coast. I have a hole in readership right smack dab through the middle of the country. I have no idea about this.


You know what I'd like??? I'd like more comments from my fabulous readers. Comments make my day. It thrills me to know that my wisdom is shared throughout the world.

If you are interested in getting your own counter, here is the address:


Adios guys.

Comments are appreciated.

Monday, November 5, 2007

Good Hair and the Governator: Together at Last

To the right is a picture of the Govenator and Good Hair at the Inauguration of the President of Mexico. I don't remember the name of the Mexican president and I feel too lazy to look it up right now. I apologize to my readers for my slothful behavior.


My post has nothing to do with the picture. I just thought I'd share it with you.


I don't know.

Anyway, the temperature dropped last week and the weather is cooling off. Karen started pulling out her winter clothes, specifically sweaters to wear to work. This is humorous because the lows have been typically 65 degrees.

Probably not going to need those snow tires any time soon, Karen.

As you know I live in the part of Texas known as the Gulf Coast. We don't have seasons here. We have summer with occasional bouts of spring and fall. That's it. For this reason, when temps get below seventy people start talking about the "cold weather".

Personally, I like the cooler weather. Karen keeps the thermostat set at 82 degrees during the day while she's at work (self- centered hag).

Just because I don't have a job, or contribute anything other than my presence to the household, doesn't mean I don't have a right to the comfort of 73 degrees.

Anyway . . .

Sadie had another howling episode again last night. Karen yelled at her about "civilize people sleeping at two am".

Dude, Sadie isn't a person, she's a cat and not the most brilliant one at that. Karen can't put human expectations on her. It simply isn't fair.

Occasionally, she does the howling thing during the day while I'm trying to take a nap. I just get up, slap her across the face, and bite her on the ear (not necessarily in that order). Typically the problem is solved.

I'm tired now. I'm going to bed.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

The Govenator

Before I begin, I need some help:

I can't get a picture loaded onto my profile. I even followed the direction on blogger.

Any advice???

Anyway . . .

I've been holding off on discussing this because of the fires in California. Anyway, I wish the Californians well, but now it is time to chat about The Govenator:


You know why "marijuana isn't a drug", according to the Guvanator? Because he SMOKED POT (or smokes pot for all I know). Take a looksie at his "Pumping Iron" documentary from the seventies.

This is my biggest bitch with Schwarzenegger: it's only bad if he didn't do it. From what I've read about Mr. Schwarzenegger, there isn't much he didn't do.

I became irritated with this stuff when he was running for governor the first time and all the steroid/ orgy/ sexual harassment stuff was coming out of the woodwork and he denied it all.

I might be OK with the Govenator if he'd just said, "Ya know, the seventies were a really whacked out time. I can't believe I've survived to regret some of the stuff I used to do."

Or even, "Ya know, the seventies were a really whacked out time. I can't believe I survived some of the stuff I used to do."

But nooooooooooo, Arnold felt the need to rewrite history and turn himself into the golden child, who didn't tell Rolling Stone about his steroid use, the many orgies, and the pot.

By this definition of drug, the Governator has eliminated almost everything with the exception of meth and other chemically created substances. (Meth is chemically created, right???)

He's made cocaine, pot, and heroine OK, as they are derived from plants.

I'm not comparing pot to cocaine or heroine. In all honesty, I don't care about what other people (or cats) do in the privacy of their own homes, as long as it doesn't effect my life.

I'm just saying that anything that impairs judgement is a drug, at least in my mind.

Any thoughts on this???

Some terrorist out there has to be smiling. The Govenator just justified his product.

How ironic.

Saturday, November 3, 2007

Back Achne

George Bush once was busted on tape for calling a reporter a "Grade A Asshole". I always thought that was amusing. Even after I saw the clip on Letterman like a hundred times, it was still funny.

This has absolutely nothing to do with anything except that Barry Bonds is one grade A asshole.


My initial reaction is "don't let the door hit you on the ass, Barry". Since Mark McGwire hasn't exactly been lucky in his induction, I am hesitant to think that Bonds will his get in with great ease either.

I wouldn't be picking out the suit for the ceremony just yet, Barry.

That being said, I'm not totally convinced that an astrik is right, either. This problem only exists because Major League Baseball had such a dumb ass steroid policy for so many years. Serves them right for ignoring this major problem.

No hard and fast evidence exists, proving Bonds is a user of the juice. All that exists is gossip, the giant head and probably back ache.

I'll let someone else find out to see if he has shrunken testicles or not.

Yes, I think that Bonds probably shot up here and there. But don't we live in a country which insists upon PROOF, as opposed to heresay?

So guess what? An asterisk is against my philosophy of justice.


Thursday, November 1, 2007

"I'm doin' it with class 'cause I've got a big ass."

I'm going to stop saying I've discovered the most vile "reality" television show.

Every time I say this, I find one just a little bit nastier than the last.

Karen suggested I stop spending so much time watching television and read a little more.

"Don't you have a book review to finish?" Karen asked.

Yes I do. And in good time I'll write it. Karen, who is still on my nasty list (see the post about Halloween), doesn't need to boss me around though. This is my freakin' blog, for Pete's sake. I'll post about whatever or whenever I damn well please.

Anyway, back to "reality" television.

This one is on E!, home of The Anna Nicole Show and the slowest news crawler known to man:

Keeping Up with the Kardashians

Who the Hell are the Kardashians, you ask?

Well, Robert Kardashian was O.J. Simpson's personal attorney. His claim to fame is being the last one to have known contact with the Juice's Louis Vuitton carry on, which eventually came up missing upon returning from Chicago after his ex wife turned up dead.

Kardashian died several years back. So this "reality" show obviously isn't about him.

It's about his ex wife (Kris Jenner), her current husband (Olympic athlete Bruce Jenner), and their children together and with others (a slew-- like five, maybe six), particularly Kim.

So what makes this Kim so friggin' special, you ask???

That was my question. So I looked her up on the web.

According to several web sites (and Wiki), Kim Kardashian is an aspiring model/ actress or something.

Last year a sex tape appeared featuring Kim and her boyfriend (some rapper) and a company attempted to sell it. She sued said company and made a nice chunk of change.

So she's friggin' special in the literal and Biblical sense.


Anyway, she's appearing in Playboy soon.

So much for redemption.

Anyway, now you have an idea about the direction of this train wreck. And it gets worse:

Ole Bruce and Kris have a stripper pole in their bedroom. It was a gift. The younger girls like to play on it, much to their father's dismay.

Frequently, Kris and Bruce (a.k.a. "Botox Gone Way Wrong") are mortified about their young children (about ten) behaving in a semi sexual way. As a cat without children, my suggestion would be to take them out of the overtly sexual environment:

1. Stripper Poles
2. Flowing Alcohol
3. Stepsister in Playboy/ feature player in sex tape/ God knows what else
4. Name calling using the word "whore"

I cannot believe I'm doling out parenting advice. First of all I'm a cat. Second, I despise children for very obvious reasons. Finally, I have a very limited experience with children. What the Hell do I know???

Anyway, I'm exhausted. I'll see you tomorrow. I'm considering bashing Barry Bonds tomorrow.

Your Challenge, Should You Choose to Accept It . . .

I got this idea from Reid over at "Reid About It" (link under favorite links).

Basically, I've agreed to post every day this month. Quite a challenge for someone who posts no more than twice a week.

So this is my introductory post. I don't have a lot to say in general.

But specifically . . .

Heather Mills

Ms. Mills:

I totally get that you feel demonized by the British media, who can be quite nasty from time to time. However, my advice would be to take the 100 million (pounds? euros? fish n' chips? whatever) and run. Who cares about the gag order? So you don't get to make another twenty million off a tell all book deal, trashing the "cute Beatle". You've got a hundred million smackers. The rest is insignificant. Keep a shred of your dignity and do another season of Dancing with the Stars. Put the rest behind you, chalking it up as a learning experience.

But most importantly, do stop crying on talk shows. Divorce is hard. I get it. But did you think you'd come out of this smelling like a flower? Did you honestly think your ex would stand up and say, "Ole Heather is a great gal. It's all my fault." Separation isn't that pretty, sweetheart, particularly when billions are at stake.

Welcome to reality.

-- P

Monday, October 29, 2007

Small Ones, Victoria Beckham, and the Paparazzi-- All at Karen's Parents House

Karen brought Sadie and I over to her parent's house. I don't know why-- she just did.


Anyway, it was just a normal visit.

That is, until Karen showed me the Halloween costumes her mother made for Sadie and I.

Oh, for the love of God.

I'm a cat, for crying out loud. I don't wear a costume for Halloween. This isn't one of those issues in which I'm willing to compromise, either, like don't torture Sadie on Sundays. I have my principles, which include no cavorting around dressed like a ninny. So, no, come Wednesday night I WILL NOT be answering the door, handing out the candy to the little urchins dressed like Hannah Montana or the like.

"Oh, Penelope, you look so cute," Karen said as she dressed me, much to my mortification.

Karen will get hers. She might not know when or where, but she'll get hers.

That's bad enough, right? Well it gets worse.

Saturday afternoon other people came over to visit, bringing with them "small ones". Evil Jeff brought his small one, that woman who typically brings Toby the dog brought her small one, another lady brought her small one, who wasn't particularly small, which seemed to be an ongoing joke, and her larger small one, who has no fear of God (or me) whatsoever.

Don't get me wrong, I understand the attraction to these small ones. They are cute and smell nice, that is, unless they are vomiting or defecating on themselves. However, one day I see them and they are cute small ones who don't move around much. The next day I see them and they are quite mobile, pulling my tail, poking my eyes, and eating my food.

See my point?

Finally, I escaped to the stairwell. Typically, this is a safety zone, as most people don't want their small ones running up and down the stairs. But then came another problem:

The paparazzi.

Somehow the paparazzi joined us at this event. I didn't recall seeing Britney Spears or Victoria Beckham waltzing through the door. Perhaps they were in disguise. Whatever. But these neerdowells were in full force, predominately taking pictures of the small ones.

One of the paparazzi evidently heard I was in attendance at the party. She attempted to take my picture with a cell phone. Obviously, I don't work with the Paparazzi. Thus as she approached me I hissed at her. She then backed off a little and told Karen (And exactly what is Karen supposed to do-- does anyone think Karen can keep me from speaking my mind? Hasn't happened yet . . .), who started griping at me about being "rude".

"It wouldn't hurt you to cooperate, every once in a while."

But it would be wrong somehow, don't you think?

Anyway, that was my weekend. I'm still recovering. So I'm off to bed.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Questions for You from the Cat

I have a list of questions I'd like someone to answer:

1. Why is it "breaking news" when Britney Spears gets arrested? First of all, who cares? Second, it's not like this doesn't happen semi regularly. Thus, is it really "breaking" news?

2. Why does the news crawler on E! run so damn slow? The thing creeps at a sloth's pace to the point I can't read it.

3. Does it bother anyone else that Joel Osteen, leader of the largest "mega church" in the free world, has virtually no doctrine and skirts every hardcore question asked to him? Don't get me wrong, I can't help but like "the smiling preacher", as he puts forth such positive energy, but the emperor has no clothes. Is this an issue with anyone else?

4. Why doesn't Bruce Springsteen get nailed like the Dixie Chicks for being what some call "anti- American"? He's taken on Bush the sequel, Reagan, a plethora of conservative issues, but yet no one is threatening his life or starting boycotts. Is it the difference between audiences? Got me, but it sure is interesting . . .

5. Did you see the Senator Craig interview on Dateline? Did the wife come off a little flaky? Did you giggle when they showed the old footage of Craig calling President Clinton " . . . a bad boy - a naughty boy. . . a nasty, bad, naughty boy” on Meet the Press?

6. I'm beginning to find Matt Lauer attractive. What are your thoughts on this?

7. Am I the only one who wants to grab Paul McCartney by the shoulders and shake him while shouting, "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING MARRYING THE ONE LEGGED CHICK WITHOUT A PRENUMP"? That is, other than his older children. . .

Those are my questions. I'm now leaving. It's time for my late evening nap.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Justice Served Not Yet

I am furious:


I am a proponent of the Vienna Convention and World Law. And somebody really dropped the ball on this one.

Why wasn't this man informed that as a Mexican national, he had the right to contact the Mexican Consulate? Why didn't someone drive down to the Mexican Consulate and bring an attorney to him, whether he wanted one or not?

This is probably one of the most disturbing murder cases I've run across. Five boys (or young men), as part of a gang initiation, raped, sodomize, and strangled two girls (fourteen and fifteen) in a park in Houston in 1993. Four were sentenced to death. One was a minor and sentenced to forty years. The first execution took place last year.

This young man in question bragged to others about keeping one of the victim's Mickey Mouse watch as a souvenir.

I cannot think of a situation in which the death penalty was more appropriate. We are not talking about a situation in which DNA evidence was questionable, witnesses shady, etc. He confessed. Everyone confessed. There wasn't much point not. The group bragged about it and a relative called the authorities a few days after the fact.

I don't know what the options are at this point.

A new trial?

That's a waste of tax money. Days and days of presentations so that a jury can spend a whopping twenty seconds in a secret ballot vote, determining that this man is the poster child for execution?

Set him free?

Only if he goes back to Mexico and becomes their problem.

I hate this is happening to the families of those girls. They've been through Hell and back again, only for this to happen. Granted, I'm not a big proponent of the death penalty, but this is one of those moments in which it's hard to argue against it. Those families are the true victims in this case.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

"It's not collagen-- it's silicone"

If you know anything about me, you know I despise "reality" shows, particularly "reality" shows with the sole purpose of self promotion.

I use quotation marks around the word "reality" because I question that concept. Those shows are not reality. They are contrived distortions of backbiting self-centered individuals, clawing their way to a spread in Playboy, or a date with-- I don't know, someone who values "reality" shows.

Anyway, VH-1 is the leader in the crap genre. When I discovered Rock of Love and Scott Baio is 45 . . . and Single I thought I hit rock bottom. But noooooooooooooo, it CAN get worse.

America's Most Smartest Model

First of all, this is GRAMMATICALLY INCORRECT. What self-respecting model who claims intelligence would be on a show with a blazing grammatical error in its title??? Makes no sense to me. . .

Oh, but it gets better.

First competition was a spelling bee. This girl with giant lips had to spell "collagen".

Hee Hee

And then she said, "but my lips aren't collagen-- they're silicone".


Anyway, I'm not doubting the intelligence of any of these characters (even silicone girl), but this parade does border on the absurd.

In the living quarters, the bathrooms are pass coded and a question appears above the keypad.

Question one on the bathroom:

What year did Christopher Columbus discover America?

First of all, one learns in ELEMENTARY SCHOOL that Christopher Columbus, in 1492, discovered perhaps Central America or the Bahamas.

So yeah, this is quite a challenge.

I guess the producers valued the carpet in the living quarters over challenging questions.


Tuesday, October 9, 2007

"From My Cold Bare Hands"

That's Charlton "Guns n' Moses" Heston, by the way . . .

Human beings are so stupid:


Oh, this is a swell idea: lets give the go ahead to put a GUN in a high school classroom.

Before I begin, I would like to point out this educator is NOT in Texas.

A teacher in Oregon sued for her right to carry a gun into her high school classroom. She is concerned about a crazy ex husband coming after her at work. The Pro gun people are backing her ". . . natural, God- given (right to protect yourself)."

Whoa, cowboys and cowgirls. I totally buy the God- given right to protect myself. I take advantage of it daily. For instance, last night Karen rolled over in her sleep and smashed me. So I bit her on the shoulder.

Problem solved. I didn't pull out a revolver and blow her brains out. Who would clean the kitty box, after all?

OK, I will acknowledge that I am being trite. My minor inconveniences are not comparable to this poor woman's daily paranoia caused by a nutjob of an ex husband. That being said, do we really want another gun on a high school campus? Do we really want a gun carried by an individual who probably is a little jumpy anyway (for obvious reasons) and spends her day with teenagers, whose purpose in life is to make adults a little jumpy?

Besides, if her ex husband is that psychotic, I wouldn't want her teaching the youth of America until this issue is rectified.

That is, if I felt any affection for the youth of America, which I do not.

Did you know you are sixty percent more likely to shoot a loved one than an intruder in a home? Arm the teachers and the same statistic will prove true in education.

The woman has a license to carry concealed. Does this mean she's allowed to carry a gun wherever? Like PetSmart? I don't want anyone carrying a gun in PetSmart. Too many freaky things happen there.

In all honesty I despise the NRA. They hide behind the second amendment and refuse to enter the 21st century. Random acts of violence will not be solved by arming every Tom, Dick or Harry. Perhaps we should look at why these random acts of violence happen and devise a plan to address the bigger issue.

But we can discuss that another time. Karen brought home my copy of I am America. So I have to read for my review.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

On Justice

I've developed more of a faith in justice, but I'm still a cynic when it comes to the legal system in California:


Hee, hee, hee

O.J.'s "Rolex" is not a Rolex.

It was made in China.

I hope he gets lead poisoning, or it turns his wrist green.


All of this O.J. stuff has given me a renewed faith in universe; the man got away with butchering his ex wife and a complete stranger in a fit of rage. Now it is possible he might spend the rest of his life in a Nevada prison over stolen football jerseys.

That thrilled me Saturday morning, but this kept me talking:


According to Richard Roberts, son of Oral Roberts and ORU president, this all boils down to money.

Well, of course it does.

It cost $29,000 to send his daughter and friends to Florida for her "senior trip". (listed in financial records as a "evangelical trip of the President"-- Evangelicals Gone Wild???).

This totally makes sense. I bet Mr. Roberts and his family walked the beaches looking for poor intoxicated college and high school students, hoping to spread the word and change their lives.

Some concern was mentioned about Mrs. Roberts $800/ monthly cell phone bills.

I totally get this as well. Mrs. Roberts has to make her calls. What I don't get is why is she sending "hundreds of text messages . . . between 1 a.m (and) 3 a.m.".

Text messaging requires effort. Personally, I don't understand why anyone does it. Leave a voicemail, for crying out loud.

More so, I'm concerned about the texts, which were going to "underage males who had been provided phones at university expense".


Karen was concerned about the "$39,000 at one Chico's clothing store in less than a year". According to Karen, she hasn't seen $1,000 worth of anything worth buying in Chico's in the last year, much less $39,000. Has she ever heard of Talbot's? Nordstrom's perhaps? She's plunking down a lot of cash; why not Neiman's or Sak's? After all, "as long as (she) wear(s) it once on TV, (she) can charge it off".

Oh Jeez

It was the televangelist Oral Roberts back in the late eighties who told the viewers of his show that if he didn't raise eight million dollars for the university, God would "take him home". Since his fundraising endeavors were successful, God didn't "take him home". Instead, he allowed him to semi retire in the great state of California.

I wonder what donors think of their givings now . . .

Oh well.

Friday, October 5, 2007

Moon River . . .

For the last ten days or so, Sadie has been getting behind the blinds and meowing very loudly at God knows what at ungodly hours. This behavior is annoying me and really pissing Karen off.

So what to do . . .

Karen, incoherent at two am, usually just yells at her to get out of the blinds. Once she threw a paperback copy of The Grapes of Wrath at her. (Is there meaning behind this? I don't know.) Typically Sadie immediately gets off the window ledge and hops back in the bed with us. However, usually we go through this about three times a night.

Karen is becoming less patient with my feline counterpart.

Today she asked me if I thought Sadie was howling at the moon, since she only does this in the middle of the night. I told her that cats don't howl at the moon.

"All cats?" Karen asked me.

"All the cats I know," I replied.

"What cats do you know?"

Point taken.

So apparently, Karen thinks Sadie is some form of werewolf, howling at the moon. I can't say I particularly enjoy the behavior, either. I just refuse to get worked up over Sadie's ridiculousness.


Monday, October 1, 2007

He Moves in Mysterious Ways

Yesterday was Craig Biggio's last game as a professional athlete.

Why do you ask is Craig Biggio remarkable?

1. 3,000 (plus) hits

2. Fifth on the all time doubles list

3. Played for the same team for TWENTY years. This, by the way, is an unheard of and much a contrived effort. He CHOSE to stay in Houston when he had opportunities to play elsewhere, for a larger paycheck, at other points in his career. Due to free economies, loyalties are anomalies in professional sports, and when it appears has to mean something.

4. Big time supporter/ advocate/ contributor to Sunshine Kids (provides opportunities for kids with cancer).

5. U2 plays every time he bats.

6. Sprints to first base every time he puts the ball in play.

7. Is judgemental about athletes who don't sprint to first base every time he puts the ball in play.

8. Commonly takes one for the team physically. Biggio holds the modern record for being hit by a pitch (285 times). How many times did he get to take first base and score due to the fact that he wasn't scared of (or crazy enough to think this was wise) a ninety- plus mph fastball plunking him God knows where? Got me, but if the dudes willing to do it, who am I to judge?

9. Promotes the "whatever it takes" attitude. For the team, Biggio played catcher (changed to second base to prolong his career), second base (changed to outfield to make way for Jeff Kent), outfield (changed to second base when Kent left for L.A.-- good freakin' riddance), and back to second base. He's the only player in major league history to be an all star as BOTH a catcher and second baseman (voted all star, not named to team).

10. The greatest Astro to don the star. Say what you will about Nolan Ryan (only a decade-- bastard Dr. McMullen), Jeff Bagwell (riddled with injuries), and Roger Clemens (mercenary), but none of these have the years of service AND the records as a 'Stro.

Anyway, I hope Mr. Biggio enjoys his retirement at the ripe old age of 42. He will be missed.

The season (at least for the 'Stros) is over. Only five months until spring training.

Go 'Stros (2008)

Friday, September 28, 2007

Book Reviews by Penelope the Cat

As I mentioned on the sidebar, I am reviewing My Boring- Ass Life.

It's boring.

If I valued everyday monotony, I'd post daily and tell you what I did:

6 am: Woke up, groomed

6:45 am: Took a nap

8:30 am: Ate breakfast

8:40 am: Used the facilities

8:43 am: Took a nap

10 am: Watched The View

11 am: Took a nap

1:42 pm: Ate late lunch

1:50 pm: Took a nap

3:45 pm: Groomed

5 pm: Watched Barak Obama on CNN

See my point?

I like Kevin Smith. Because I like Kevin Smith I skipped to the end of the book and read Me and My Shadow. This is valuable. It's the story of his journey dealing with Jason Mewes' (a.k.a Jay, as in Jay and Silent Bob-- a life long friend) drug addiction. If you know someone with a serious narcotic dependency, I would think this story would be quite poignant. For this reason I will recommend the book. Otherwise, take into consideration the title.

The only other value within it was that he does give Sting a shout out and specifically mentions my favorite Sting song Ghost Story.

Anyway, I'm done with this. Don't ask me what I'm reviewing next, as I don't know. Right now it's nap time.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Voices from Our Past

This post is dedicated to the ever-so-lovely Iranian visitor to our country who doesn't believe the holocaust happened. The real tragedy is he will never realize what good society lost during the horrific reign of Adolf Hitler:

I am intrigued by this article on the National Public Radio web site:


Wow. I can't say much more, other than can't wait to read the book.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Cat Fights

Karen has been after me to write about Michael Vick for weeks.

Initially, I told her no. What do I care if some dude in Atlanta wants to fight dogs? Dogs are generally stupid, hence fighting for no apparent reason, other than being directed to do so. As far as I'm concerned, the whole thing reeks of Darwin.

Karen then asked me what if people started fighting cats. Would I expect to be protected then?

As we all know, that's just ridiculous. Cats don't do things because a member of human kind suggests it. Have you ever asked at cat to do anything? We pretty much just sit there and look at you with great contempt.

I thought about situations in which I could be persuaded to fight. Perhaps if Mr. Vick wanted to give me a cut in the money he made, I might consider fighting professionally. I definitely wouldn't fight for free. And he'd have to work around my schedule, too. I don't see myself fighting more than once a week, tops (I have a life, you know). I'd also expect a private dressing room with a chenille couch and lots of bottled water and tuna.

Does anybody else see the entire situation as completely absurd? Vick, in a horrifically overpaid profession, is having to moonlight as the kingpin of a dog fighting ring?

And on other issues:

I was watching Face the Nation this morning with Karen and almost came out of my skin. Hillary Clinton used the phrase "Cowboy Diplomacy". That's mine. I've used it all over the place. I think I should sue. Or she should at least hire me as a speech writer. Whatever. I could email her stuff when I felt like writing. Anyway, if you know Senator Clinton, tell her she needs to call me so we can work this out.

Geez, the absurdity of all of this is making me tired. I'm off to take a nap.

Sunday, September 16, 2007


Last week I stayed at Karen's parents house. It's a great place to be (lots of windows and furniture to hide under, not to mention several WINDOW SEATS upstairs), but their computer is dead, so I had no Internet access. Thus, no posting and I missed SO MUCH.

Actually, I missed the VMAs. Evidently it was in interesting night:

1. Britney Spears practically naked debacle
Not much to say here. MTV should be ashamed of themselves, taking advantage of a very obviously mentally ill individual. I would boycott them, but I don't watch MTV.
Oh well . . .

2. The Tommy Lee/ Kid Rock's Skirmish
I've seen more sophistication standing outside the firework stands in a red, white and blue bikini. Geez guys you're rich, famous and live in Los Angeles: can't you each find your own "enhanced" skank to hang out with and leave ole Pam alone?

3. Kanye West's Sour Grapes
You know what, Susan Lucci was nominated for best actress in a soap on whatever award show soap opera queens attend, about a million times and didn't win until quite recently. Did she whine and complain? No. Suck it up, Kanye. Stop being so bitter. I almost liked your crazy self during the Hurricane Katrina relief thing, but this is just petty.

Does anyone else find it odd that MTV is hosting the VIDEO MUSIC Awards? From what I've heard, MTV doesn't show much in the area of music videos anymore.


But that was last week. Now we've got O.J. Simpson to discuss.

I love O.J. He defied justice and got away with a double murder. Now he's been accused of robbing a Vegas hotel room, or more technically: "Robbery with a Deadly Weapon". He could face up to 35 years PER COUNT in the poky.

I'd love to say more about this. But I've decided to wait until more information comes out this week.

So stay tuned, readers, stay tuned.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

"It's Raining Men"

Has it been a great news week or what???

To quote Anderson Cooper of CNN:

"Is it a crime to flirt in the men's restroom?"

I'll let my male readers answer this question. I'm leaving that one alone.

Anyway, I am about to argue a point for the good Senator Larry Craig.

What, you ask. Penelope, why are you, the fabulous and all knowing cat, defending a man who plead guilty to a crime of George Michael proportions?

Because Craig is totally a victim of politics as usual.

Let me explain:

Just a matter of months ago, Senator David "House of the Rising Sun" Vitter admitted (after he was named by the D.C. madam) to soliciting prostitutes. Was he asked to resign?


Why, you ask, would the Republican Party persecute one skank lover over another?

The answer is very simple: Louisiana has a Democrat for Governor. Idaho has a Republican Governor. If Vitter were to resign, he would be replaced by a . . .

dom- dum- dom


This would not make George happy. It might even make ole Dick curse.

But wait, Penelope. Senator Craig has been a controversial figure for many years. His sexuality has been an issue frequently and he was even investigated for behaving inappropriately with Senate pages.

And Vitter was a virgin to hookerville until recently? His name appeared with the Canal Street madam in 2002.

Please. The whole issue boils down to Senate votes and numbers. This has nothing to do upholding any high standard of morality whatsoever.

Part of me is rooting for Senator Craig. I'd like to see him "stick it to the man".

Was that a poor choice of words?

Oh well . . .

I think CNN spent at least an hour on this issue during prime time.

In the meantime:

The Germans uncovered a terror plot against America.

Fred Thompson announced his candidacy for the presidency (surprise surprise).

And the 'Stros totally got their asses kick (14- 2 Milwaukee)

Not to mention the 3,750 American casualties in Iraq

Anyway . . .

I have a novel idea:

Why not leave it be and let THE VOTERS of the great states of Idaho and Louisiana VOTE THEIR ASSES OUT.

Or keep them. Stranger things have happened (Ted Kennedy, myriad of Texas politicians, etc.)

I can't make rhyme or reason of any of this crap. I'm going to bed and hope to hear nothing about Senator Craig tomorrow.

Not bloody likely though.

Friday, August 31, 2007

A Fun Meme

I decided to do this meme I saw on Thomma Lyn's site Tennessee Text Wrestling:

It's really simple: you answer these questions by using the first letter of your name:

My name: Penelope (the cat)

Famous Singer: Prince

Four letter word: Porn

Street: Pacific Avenue

Color: Pumpkin

Gifts/Presents: Petunias

Vehicle: Porshe

Things in a Souvenir Shop: Pens

Boy Name: Patrick

Girl Name: Prudence

Movie Title: Pretty Woman

Drink: Peach Scnaps

Occupation: Police Officer

Celebrity: Penelope Ann Miller

Magazine: Penthouse

U.S. City: Pittsburg

Pro Sports: Pingpong

Fruit: Pear

Reason for Being Late for Work: Pooped Out

Something You Throw Away: Poop

Things You Shout: Piss Off!!!

Cartoon Character: Peppy la Pew

That was fun!!! Everyone should try it.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

What Would Molly Do?

Today is Molly Ivins' birthday. She would be 63.

Ivins is one of the greatest political writers ever-- period. She coined the nicknames "shrub" and "good hair" for President Bush and Governor Perry respectively. She wrote for the Texas Observer and The New York Times, amongst other publications. In January, Ivins died after a long bout with breast cancer.

Here are some of my favorite Ivins quotes:

"We are the people who run this country. We are the deciders. And every single day, every single one of us needs to step outside and take some action to help stop this war."

By the way, there are now 3,728 American casualties in Iraq.

"Having breast cancer is massive amounts of no fun. First they mutilate you; then they poison you; then they burn you. I have been on blind dates better than that."

"So keep fightin' for freedom and justice, beloveds, but don't you forget to have fun doin' it. Lord, let your laughter ring forth. Be outrageous, ridicule the fraidy-cats, rejoice in all the oddities that freedom can produce. And when you get through kickin' ass and celebratin' the sheer joy of a good fight, be sure to tell those who come after how much fun it was."

"If left to my own devices, I'd spend all my time pointing out that he's (Bill Clinton) weaker than bus-station chili. But the man is so constantly subjected to such hideous and unfair abuse that I wind up standing up for him on the general principle that some fairness should be applied. Besides, no one but a fool or a Republican ever took him for a liberal."

"Next time I tell you someone from Texas should not be president of the United States, please pay attention.”

[On then-President George H. W. Bush] "Personally, I think he's further evidence that the Great Scriptwriter in the sky has an overdeveloped sense of irony."

If you would like to read some of Ivins' columns here are a list:


Go 'Stros!!!

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Nobody puts Putin in the Corner

Before I begin, I would like to point out that Dirty Dancing might be the stupidest movie ever created. I know it has a following and if you're a fan, I'm sorry to mention your taste sucks.

Anyway Lionsgate is suing over a trademark infringement:


I'm really not interested in legalities. Bottom line: it's a stupid movie which made WAY more money than any stupid movie should ever make.

T shirt companies are giving it free advertising.

Who cares?

Lionsgate should have to pay a fine for lowering the collective IQ.

Anyway . . .

The man.

The myth.

The 54- year- old dude sans shirt.


Being that I am a well informed cat, I opt not to criticize ANYONE formerly associated with the KGB. It just seems safer that way. With that in mind, despite being 54 Vladimir Putin looks pretty good topless. This shouldn't be surprising, as once again, HE'S FORMER KGB.

I'm guessing that Putin is so physically and mentally trained he probably sleeps with one eye open. The newspapers are saying this is supposedly some PR/ "I'm macho" move.


Who are we to judge? Ole George clears brush in Texas to show his machismo.

He usually wears a shirt though.

Whose more macho: Vladimir "I took care of things in the Cold War era" Putin or George "I took care of the keg and God knows what else during the Cold War era" Bush???

Would the topless approach work in the states?

Presidential candidates without a shirt. Interesting . . .

I'm seeing Dennis Kucinich walking along the beach.

How about John McCain mowing the lawn?

Or Rudy Giuliani chewing on a cigar, overseeing a craps game in the back yard?

John Edwards fishing?

Mitt Romney . . . I don't know. I don't think ole Mitt is ever topless. I think he even wears clothes in the shower.


Go 'Stros.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

"Wasted away again in Margaritaville . . . "

I love the hurricanes.

It brings out the stupidity in everyone, including us.

Karen went to the local Super Target last night, already out of bottled water, and she overheard two middle aged women in short shorts talking about their hurricane plans:

"Yeah, I'm having an evacuation party. I'm inviting Jack and Margarita and Jose Cuevero and we're all going to have a good time."

Great. That's all we need: drunken chicks in the middle of a hurricane.

Karen, Sadie and I have been GLUED to the TV all morning, trying to get more information so we can make an educated decision about whether or not to flee like the Joads close to midweek.

We watch the local news for good information. In our experience, the dudes at CNN and the other national news sources work more on fear and sensationalism than on helping people come up with plans prestorm. They like to send a nut job (aka reporter who does not fear God) into the storm and said nut job hangs out in the rain talking about how hard the wind is blowing and how wet they are standing in the rain.

Speaking of reporters, I miss Dan Rather. He's the master of nut jobs covering hurricanes. I don't care about all that alleged B.S. with ole George the younger's "service" in the National Guard. Even in the latter part of his career, he was still mid storm, standing in rising water, covering the hurricanes for those of us fascinated with weather train wrecks, just like he did in Galveston during Hurricane Carla in 1961.

This, by the way, was the first live television broadcast of a hurricane.

Post storm the networks do a better job with the human interest stuff. I am grateful to the national news sources (and local down here) which showed us the death and devastation in New Orleans two years ago. If we depended on our wonderful government to do this, well, we probably wouldn't know what happened in New Orleans those wretched hours post storm.

Notice I said "post storm". Hurricanes aren't great by any stretch of the imagination. But perhaps if the scumbag bureaucracies both state AND nationally would have kept that levee in good repair then the catastrophe post storm would have been significantly less.

Whatever. All reporting is repetitive at this moment. It looks like after ole Dean plows through Jamaica and the Yucatan Peninsula, it will blow into northern Mexico Wednesday mid morning.

If it does that, we shall stay home and watch the rain.

However, hurricanes virtually NEVER go where the meteorologists think they will. Typically they veer north. The plan mentioned above works if the eye hits south of Corpus Christi. If it looks like it'll hits north of that area, we'll go somewhere, either west or north of town or all the way to Austin.

Karen wanted me to send out thoughts and prayers to those in the Yucatan and Jamaica. We wish you the best under the horrific circumstances you will face soon.

Other things I'd like to talk about, but don't have the time right now:
1. Democratic Iowa Debate
2. Sadie the Tuna Thief
3. John Edwards' hair (president Good Hair???)
4 Anti wrinkle pizza (http://www.thatsfit.com/2007/08/13/anti-wrinkle-pizza)
5. The melodrama of CNN

Thoughts for later this week. Hopefully, it'll happen . . .