My apologizes.
Chey is a GIRL.
Sorry for the mistake. I wish her well in the campaign.
--P
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
More on the Meme
OK, I've got another one (thanks to George of the Crew). There is a cat running for president. This is the web site:
http://www.cheyforpres.com/support.html
I'm a believer that all cats should make up their minds about who they choose to vote for, but I have some concerns about this guy:
In his (is he a he? I'm assuming, correct me if I'm wrong) picture he kinda looks like Kinky Friedman (this is actually not a concern-- just an observation). When Mr. Friedman ran for governor of the great state of Texas, he ran a series of commercials which he lets a wild pack of dogs lick his face. Is that not nasty or what? Just on that, I wouldn't vote for him (not that I could as Karen claims I'm not allowed to vote).
Karen didn't vote for him either. She said Mr. Friedman would be entertaining, but so many weird things have happened in Texas already that she didn't want to add to that number with a governor even more exciting than Good Hair (Gov. Perry).
But back to Chey . . .
The name in itself is a concern. Is this a reference back to Che Guevara, the Cuban leftist revolutionary? The man who protested against Juan Peron in Argentina and worked in a leper colony?
Come on, do cats really want to support a leader who might want us participate in random acts of kindness? I think not. My biggest concerns are that I don't have to eat the bottom layer of food in my bowl, that I get the best spot on the couch/ bed/ living room chair/ bathroom sink/ kitchen sink (don't tell Karen-- she gets really touchy about places where I sleep in the kitchen), and that Karen leaves the remote control in a place where I can find it during the day.
Any presidential candidate who can guarantee these things for me has my vote.
Furthermore, what is this concern about teaching humans to speak the language of cats? If the humans want to succeed in the cat world, they need to get off their arses and make an effort to learn OUR language. It's doable. Karen and I communicate quite well. If the cat box is nasty, I rub up against Karen's ankles and say, "Hey pal, you need to take care of the business in our box. Sadie's been drinking the milk again." If we need more food I jump on Karen and say, "Listen, get your ass downstairs and get us some grub. You know I don't eat the food that touches the bowl and I don't really care if it's four in the morning. You need to do your job and do it now."
Amazingly, she pretty much does what I want. Sometimes I get an attitude, but it those cases I just tell Sadie to throw up in one of Karen's shoes. Sadie vomits frequently (she's bulimic, I think-- Karen and I've discussed intervention, but neither of us believes Sadie is evolved enough for an intervention to work.) The barfing in the shoes really thrills Karen and she isn't swift enough to connect the timing of shoe vomit and our nasty spat.
He he.
You know what else I am concerned about?
Spaying and neutering the kitties.
This is why: Karen came home from the grocery store yesterday and told me that she saw the cutest kittens and that she really wanted to take one home.
What is the deal?
Are they giving kitties away at Super Target?
Whatever, I can not handle another cat in the house. I barely tolerate Sadie. Karen tries to occasionally guilt me into accepting another with all these sad stories about homeless kitties, but I'm not taking that bait. Not that I was consulted about Sadie though. She just brought her home and expected me to think she was the greatest thing since sliced bread.
Yeah, that was going to happen.
Anyway, all this griping has made me tired. I'm off to take my nap.
http://www.cheyforpres.com/support.html
I'm a believer that all cats should make up their minds about who they choose to vote for, but I have some concerns about this guy:
In his (is he a he? I'm assuming, correct me if I'm wrong) picture he kinda looks like Kinky Friedman (this is actually not a concern-- just an observation). When Mr. Friedman ran for governor of the great state of Texas, he ran a series of commercials which he lets a wild pack of dogs lick his face. Is that not nasty or what? Just on that, I wouldn't vote for him (not that I could as Karen claims I'm not allowed to vote).
Karen didn't vote for him either. She said Mr. Friedman would be entertaining, but so many weird things have happened in Texas already that she didn't want to add to that number with a governor even more exciting than Good Hair (Gov. Perry).
But back to Chey . . .
The name in itself is a concern. Is this a reference back to Che Guevara, the Cuban leftist revolutionary? The man who protested against Juan Peron in Argentina and worked in a leper colony?
Come on, do cats really want to support a leader who might want us participate in random acts of kindness? I think not. My biggest concerns are that I don't have to eat the bottom layer of food in my bowl, that I get the best spot on the couch/ bed/ living room chair/ bathroom sink/ kitchen sink (don't tell Karen-- she gets really touchy about places where I sleep in the kitchen), and that Karen leaves the remote control in a place where I can find it during the day.
Any presidential candidate who can guarantee these things for me has my vote.
Furthermore, what is this concern about teaching humans to speak the language of cats? If the humans want to succeed in the cat world, they need to get off their arses and make an effort to learn OUR language. It's doable. Karen and I communicate quite well. If the cat box is nasty, I rub up against Karen's ankles and say, "Hey pal, you need to take care of the business in our box. Sadie's been drinking the milk again." If we need more food I jump on Karen and say, "Listen, get your ass downstairs and get us some grub. You know I don't eat the food that touches the bowl and I don't really care if it's four in the morning. You need to do your job and do it now."
Amazingly, she pretty much does what I want. Sometimes I get an attitude, but it those cases I just tell Sadie to throw up in one of Karen's shoes. Sadie vomits frequently (she's bulimic, I think-- Karen and I've discussed intervention, but neither of us believes Sadie is evolved enough for an intervention to work.) The barfing in the shoes really thrills Karen and she isn't swift enough to connect the timing of shoe vomit and our nasty spat.
He he.
You know what else I am concerned about?
Spaying and neutering the kitties.
This is why: Karen came home from the grocery store yesterday and told me that she saw the cutest kittens and that she really wanted to take one home.
What is the deal?
Are they giving kitties away at Super Target?
Whatever, I can not handle another cat in the house. I barely tolerate Sadie. Karen tries to occasionally guilt me into accepting another with all these sad stories about homeless kitties, but I'm not taking that bait. Not that I was consulted about Sadie though. She just brought her home and expected me to think she was the greatest thing since sliced bread.
Yeah, that was going to happen.
Anyway, all this griping has made me tired. I'm off to take my nap.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Scruffy Looking Nerf Herders and Other Topics of Great Importance
First of all, the history channel ran a really great Star Wars documentary which I am watching as I type. I've seen several of these over the years, as Karen is truly a geek-- she's about one step away from dressing up like a wookie and going to the conventions.
Anyway, this one is definitely the best I've seen. It discussed thematic issues, archetypal characters, and connections with politics and culture. In a nutshell it explores the saga as the literary epic which it is. Journalists, literary scholars, film critics, and politicians make commentary throughout.
Speaking of politicians . . .
I don't say many positive things about politicians. However, I would like to say I was impressed with my congressional representative Ron Paul in the presidential debate. He sounded pretty good. I might would even consider voting for him except I'm not registered to vote and he probably won't make it to the "finals".
According to Karen, cats are not allowed to vote in the United States.
Is this true? Or is Karen just telling me this so she doesn't have to drive me to the polling place. I haven't found any evidence on this one way or another.
Now it is time for the Meme:
Before I begin with the assignment, I would like to say that I discovered several blogs with many pictures of naked humans in various positions. Since I am naked most of the time, this nudity does not concern me. But I was surprised to see so many people who opt to go sans clothes, as the humans I hang with wear clothes almost all of the time.
To each his own, I guess.
Anyway, I was tagged by Crabby (see link to the right). She wants me to send out a list of interesting blogs:
Whoever did this has WAY too much time on their hands:
Cats that look like Hitler-- the name says it all
http://www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com/cgi-bin/seigmiaow.pl
This isn't a blog, but I think this is worthwhile so I'm changing the rules. If you are a fan of the Bridget Jones books, this is Helen Fielding's continuation of the columns, the origin of Bridget if you will. These were published in the Independent in 2005.
http://www.friendsoffirth.com/bjd/columns.html
Anyway, I am tired, so I will finish this after my nap.
Anyway, this one is definitely the best I've seen. It discussed thematic issues, archetypal characters, and connections with politics and culture. In a nutshell it explores the saga as the literary epic which it is. Journalists, literary scholars, film critics, and politicians make commentary throughout.
Speaking of politicians . . .
I don't say many positive things about politicians. However, I would like to say I was impressed with my congressional representative Ron Paul in the presidential debate. He sounded pretty good. I might would even consider voting for him except I'm not registered to vote and he probably won't make it to the "finals".
According to Karen, cats are not allowed to vote in the United States.
Is this true? Or is Karen just telling me this so she doesn't have to drive me to the polling place. I haven't found any evidence on this one way or another.
Now it is time for the Meme:
Before I begin with the assignment, I would like to say that I discovered several blogs with many pictures of naked humans in various positions. Since I am naked most of the time, this nudity does not concern me. But I was surprised to see so many people who opt to go sans clothes, as the humans I hang with wear clothes almost all of the time.
To each his own, I guess.
Anyway, I was tagged by Crabby (see link to the right). She wants me to send out a list of interesting blogs:
Whoever did this has WAY too much time on their hands:
Cats that look like Hitler-- the name says it all
http://www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com/cgi-bin/seigmiaow.pl
This isn't a blog, but I think this is worthwhile so I'm changing the rules. If you are a fan of the Bridget Jones books, this is Helen Fielding's continuation of the columns, the origin of Bridget if you will. These were published in the Independent in 2005.
http://www.friendsoffirth.com/bjd/columns.html
Anyway, I am tired, so I will finish this after my nap.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
On Language
You know what word I love?
Myriad
Doesn't it sound sophisticated? I've been using it all day.
"Karen, I have a myriad of problems I wish you would rectify."
"There are a myriad of reasons why the Astros (and virtually ALL of the National League, thankfully) are sucking right now."
"I came up with a myriad of justifications as to why it was reasonable for me to bite Sadie on the neck at five in the morning, consequently starting World War III in the bed Karen claims is hers." (whatever)
You know what other word I like? Acrimonious.
"If it weren't for his acrimonious attitude, I might stop trying to kill Jeff."
If you don't know Jeff is Karen's brother. The first time I met him he got down on all fours and barked at me. Being a docile kitten, not yet jaded from the world in which I inhabit, I licked him on the nose. If I spend any time at Karen's parent's house he comes around. Eventually, we end up in a fight during the visit. He always comments on my weight and tells Karen that I have a tumor, which is why I hiss at him constantly. My hissing couldn't possibly be because he constantly harasses me and doesn't accept the fact I am a far superior being.
Anyway . . .
"Sadie called me acrimonious, when I hissed at her for sitting in my chair." (not really, but we can hope that Sadie will eventually extend her vocabulary)
"If Rosie O'Donnell wasn't so overbearing and acrimonious, no one would watch The View, and then, consequently, Elisabeth Hasslebeck would lose her job."
Those are my words. Does anyone have any to share?
Karen has a friend who likes to say "exacerbate". She says he uses it because it sounds dirty.
Could be, but it's a great word, anyway.
Myriad
Doesn't it sound sophisticated? I've been using it all day.
"Karen, I have a myriad of problems I wish you would rectify."
"There are a myriad of reasons why the Astros (and virtually ALL of the National League, thankfully) are sucking right now."
"I came up with a myriad of justifications as to why it was reasonable for me to bite Sadie on the neck at five in the morning, consequently starting World War III in the bed Karen claims is hers." (whatever)
You know what other word I like? Acrimonious.
"If it weren't for his acrimonious attitude, I might stop trying to kill Jeff."
If you don't know Jeff is Karen's brother. The first time I met him he got down on all fours and barked at me. Being a docile kitten, not yet jaded from the world in which I inhabit, I licked him on the nose. If I spend any time at Karen's parent's house he comes around. Eventually, we end up in a fight during the visit. He always comments on my weight and tells Karen that I have a tumor, which is why I hiss at him constantly. My hissing couldn't possibly be because he constantly harasses me and doesn't accept the fact I am a far superior being.
Anyway . . .
"Sadie called me acrimonious, when I hissed at her for sitting in my chair." (not really, but we can hope that Sadie will eventually extend her vocabulary)
"If Rosie O'Donnell wasn't so overbearing and acrimonious, no one would watch The View, and then, consequently, Elisabeth Hasslebeck would lose her job."
Those are my words. Does anyone have any to share?
Karen has a friend who likes to say "exacerbate". She says he uses it because it sounds dirty.
Could be, but it's a great word, anyway.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Tis the Season
Today, we began our hurricane kit.
I asked Karen, who is a little paranoid about natural disasters, why we are even creating a hurricane kit if we will not be staying for the storm. She said we're better safe than sorry.
This is ridiculous. I know Karen. If there's even a hint of a storm in the gulf we're gone.
Period.
A couple of years ago we fled the area to avoid Rita, sequel to Katrina, the queen mother of natural disasters. And like most sequels she didn't quite measure up to the horrific standards presented before her. Bottom line we drove fourteen hours to Austin at a rate of five miles an hour to avoid essentially what was a nasty rain storm in our neck of the woods.
I blame CNN. That and the police officer who knocked on the door at 10:30 at night to inform us that if we weren't gone by the next day, they weren't coming after us in case of a storm of epic proportions.
Good to know.
It was a lovely trek.
Sadie and I had to share a carrier.
Did I mention it was a fourteen hour trip???
My favorite memory was Karen, at four in the morning, screaming at the radio during a broadcast of Coast to Coast. Apparently she didn't think it was respectful to talk about aliens when a large portion of the gulf coast was fleeing their homeland like the Joads at speeds comparable to a covered wagon. (Karen's a little sensitive when she's tired and fleeing for her life.)
Anyway, I was talking about the hurricane kit. This is what we have so far:
1. Water (three gallons)
2. A radio with batteries (hopefully Karen will remember to test them)
3. Baked Lays-- Bar b Que
4. Cheetos
5. Candles
6. Lighter
7. Flashlight w/ batteries (again, hope Karen remembers to test them)
8. Important papers (whatever that means)
9. Purina Cat Chow
10. First Aid Kit
Any other suggestions of things we need???
All of this stuff, which we won't be using, since we LEAVE for hurricanes. Again, this isn't my idea, as Karen is crazy. She's stressing me out, so I'm taking a nap.
I asked Karen, who is a little paranoid about natural disasters, why we are even creating a hurricane kit if we will not be staying for the storm. She said we're better safe than sorry.
This is ridiculous. I know Karen. If there's even a hint of a storm in the gulf we're gone.
Period.
A couple of years ago we fled the area to avoid Rita, sequel to Katrina, the queen mother of natural disasters. And like most sequels she didn't quite measure up to the horrific standards presented before her. Bottom line we drove fourteen hours to Austin at a rate of five miles an hour to avoid essentially what was a nasty rain storm in our neck of the woods.
I blame CNN. That and the police officer who knocked on the door at 10:30 at night to inform us that if we weren't gone by the next day, they weren't coming after us in case of a storm of epic proportions.
Good to know.
It was a lovely trek.
Sadie and I had to share a carrier.
Did I mention it was a fourteen hour trip???
My favorite memory was Karen, at four in the morning, screaming at the radio during a broadcast of Coast to Coast. Apparently she didn't think it was respectful to talk about aliens when a large portion of the gulf coast was fleeing their homeland like the Joads at speeds comparable to a covered wagon. (Karen's a little sensitive when she's tired and fleeing for her life.)
Anyway, I was talking about the hurricane kit. This is what we have so far:
1. Water (three gallons)
2. A radio with batteries (hopefully Karen will remember to test them)
3. Baked Lays-- Bar b Que
4. Cheetos
5. Candles
6. Lighter
7. Flashlight w/ batteries (again, hope Karen remembers to test them)
8. Important papers (whatever that means)
9. Purina Cat Chow
10. First Aid Kit
Any other suggestions of things we need???
All of this stuff, which we won't be using, since we LEAVE for hurricanes. Again, this isn't my idea, as Karen is crazy. She's stressing me out, so I'm taking a nap.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
The Truth Shall Set You Free
As you know, Karen asked me to lay off the daytime television so that my brain doesn't rot and she doesn't have to recycle (see Let Them Eat Cake).
I get that probably Sadie and I watch too much television. We know just a little more about the lives of celebrities than what we should. However, Karen is a hypocrite. While she gripes at us for watching "crap" during the day, what is she watching tonight as we speak?
Footballer Wive$.
Karen said it isn't crap if it's British.
I said that crap is an international genre.
Karen didn't seem to care.
"It's crap," she agreed with me. "But I don't watch that much crap."
I mentioned Desperate Housewives.
"OK, OK," Karen said, obviously flustered by my questioning. "I like crap, too, so sue me."
My point is made.
Pass the flicker, oh mighty mortal. I wanna watch The View.
I get that probably Sadie and I watch too much television. We know just a little more about the lives of celebrities than what we should. However, Karen is a hypocrite. While she gripes at us for watching "crap" during the day, what is she watching tonight as we speak?
Footballer Wive$.
Karen said it isn't crap if it's British.
I said that crap is an international genre.
Karen didn't seem to care.
"It's crap," she agreed with me. "But I don't watch that much crap."
I mentioned Desperate Housewives.
"OK, OK," Karen said, obviously flustered by my questioning. "I like crap, too, so sue me."
My point is made.
Pass the flicker, oh mighty mortal. I wanna watch The View.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Poncho and Sadie
Friday was Karen's birthday. Her parents threw her a party, and invited Sadie and I to attend, which meant Sadie crawled under a piece of furniture upstairs, not to be seen until Karen goes hunting for her when it's time to leave and I mingle until some small child makes an attempt on my life.
For her birthday, Karen's friend Robyn made Sadie and I ponchos. Karen of course was thrilled. My first reaction was to be appalled. Not two days ago I saw a kitty wearing a sweater on someone else's website and the poor thing looked miserable. Karen saw it and thought it was just "so cute". For a few days I was very concerned Karen would bring home matching sweaters for Sadie and I. (The last thing I wanted in my life was a sweater; the second to the last thing I wanted was one that matched Sadie's.)
Karen immediately put the poncho on me and much to my surprise, I found myself actually liking it. The yarn is soft and the bright fuscia color looks great against my black fur. I'm wearing it right now, as a matter of fact.
Sadie's not as keen on wearing her poncho. She's not as fashion aware as I am, though. Karen told me I can wear hers, if I wanted, but I like mine.
I told Karen she needed to buy some cashmere yarn and tell her friend to make me another poncho. I'd like to have serveral in varying colors to match my whims. I also asked Karen to take my picture in my poncho to add to the blog, which she did take, but has not down loaded to the site (surprise surprise).
Speaking of pictures, I'm about this close to firing Karen over the whole picture issue. First of all, I asked Karen to hire the famed fashion photographer Steven Meisel to take some pictures for my blog. She blew me off. A few days later I asked her about this again.
"Yeah Penelope I made that call," she told me. "Mr. Meisel has a very busy week scheduled hanging with models and celebrities and whatnot. He couldn't fit you in."
Whatever.
Karen is about as useful as Sadie sometimes. At least Sadie doesn't smart off. Sadie takes me and my needs seriously.
"Then get Sadie to make the calls to famous photographers," she told me, knowing full well that Sadie doesn't know her numbers well enough to use a phone.
I've got to get a better staff.
This whole issues is stressing me out. I'm exhausted just thinking about it. I'm off to take a nap, so I'll be refreshed to watch the season ending episode of Desperate Housewives.
For her birthday, Karen's friend Robyn made Sadie and I ponchos. Karen of course was thrilled. My first reaction was to be appalled. Not two days ago I saw a kitty wearing a sweater on someone else's website and the poor thing looked miserable. Karen saw it and thought it was just "so cute". For a few days I was very concerned Karen would bring home matching sweaters for Sadie and I. (The last thing I wanted in my life was a sweater; the second to the last thing I wanted was one that matched Sadie's.)
Karen immediately put the poncho on me and much to my surprise, I found myself actually liking it. The yarn is soft and the bright fuscia color looks great against my black fur. I'm wearing it right now, as a matter of fact.
Sadie's not as keen on wearing her poncho. She's not as fashion aware as I am, though. Karen told me I can wear hers, if I wanted, but I like mine.
I told Karen she needed to buy some cashmere yarn and tell her friend to make me another poncho. I'd like to have serveral in varying colors to match my whims. I also asked Karen to take my picture in my poncho to add to the blog, which she did take, but has not down loaded to the site (surprise surprise).
Speaking of pictures, I'm about this close to firing Karen over the whole picture issue. First of all, I asked Karen to hire the famed fashion photographer Steven Meisel to take some pictures for my blog. She blew me off. A few days later I asked her about this again.
"Yeah Penelope I made that call," she told me. "Mr. Meisel has a very busy week scheduled hanging with models and celebrities and whatnot. He couldn't fit you in."
Whatever.
Karen is about as useful as Sadie sometimes. At least Sadie doesn't smart off. Sadie takes me and my needs seriously.
"Then get Sadie to make the calls to famous photographers," she told me, knowing full well that Sadie doesn't know her numbers well enough to use a phone.
I've got to get a better staff.
This whole issues is stressing me out. I'm exhausted just thinking about it. I'm off to take a nap, so I'll be refreshed to watch the season ending episode of Desperate Housewives.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Let Them Eat Cake
Karen insisted we spend Mother's Day with her parents (neither of which is my mother, but whatever), so I've been out of commission since Friday.
So what can I tell you:
I've been really into environmentalism lately. I told Karen she should separate her aluminum cans for recycling (she's like a crack addict with the Diet Coke), as well as the paper (she goes through a lot of paper-- sometimes the study looks like a paper factory exploded). None of these things she's done. She's a busy woman, so I've forgiven her for this indiscretion, as long as she does her chores (put food in my bowl, clean the cat box, and pay the bills).
However, I was listening to Sheryl Crow on TV the other day and she suggested that it would make a significant difference in the amount of paper in landfills if people only used one sheet of toilet paper per trip to the facilities.
Thinking Karen would be proud of me for taking an interest in ecology (she usually is very encouraging), I told her about Ms. Crow's comments on the matter. Unfortunately, the response I got from Karen was quite crude, so I will not repeat it, as this is a family blog.
And then began the rant.
According to her, celebrities live a "do as I say not as I do" existence and expect middle America to follow ideals which they believe are significant, but don't follow these expectations themselves.
Her comment was that if Ms. Crow truly wanted to help the environment she should stop touring on that giant gas guzzling bus and start hanging out at home and riding her bike around town, instead of becoming "toilet paper Nazi".
"What do you bet that Sheryl Crow uses more than one sheet of toilet paper?" Karen shouted at me, waving her arms around like a mad woman. "Do you know what constitutes one sheet of toilet paper?"
Actually, no, I do not. I don't use toilet paper, other than to amuse myself by hitting the roll with my paws and having it accumulate onto the floor. Karen loves it when she comes home and sees an entire role all over the bathroom.
Anyway, I told her this couldn't be true.
Sheryl Crow a hypocrite?
Impossible.
The next thing she'll tell me that the Colbert Report has a liberal bias, or that Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt weren't merely "good friends" before his divorce.
Is there no Santa Claus?
Did Oswald actually act alone?
Anyway, Karen told me to lay off the daytime TV. She says it's wrecking my brain. She gave me a biography of Marie Antoinette to read. According to her I should identify.
Whatever.
I've got to go. It's time for my late evening nap.
So what can I tell you:
I've been really into environmentalism lately. I told Karen she should separate her aluminum cans for recycling (she's like a crack addict with the Diet Coke), as well as the paper (she goes through a lot of paper-- sometimes the study looks like a paper factory exploded). None of these things she's done. She's a busy woman, so I've forgiven her for this indiscretion, as long as she does her chores (put food in my bowl, clean the cat box, and pay the bills).
However, I was listening to Sheryl Crow on TV the other day and she suggested that it would make a significant difference in the amount of paper in landfills if people only used one sheet of toilet paper per trip to the facilities.
Thinking Karen would be proud of me for taking an interest in ecology (she usually is very encouraging), I told her about Ms. Crow's comments on the matter. Unfortunately, the response I got from Karen was quite crude, so I will not repeat it, as this is a family blog.
And then began the rant.
According to her, celebrities live a "do as I say not as I do" existence and expect middle America to follow ideals which they believe are significant, but don't follow these expectations themselves.
Her comment was that if Ms. Crow truly wanted to help the environment she should stop touring on that giant gas guzzling bus and start hanging out at home and riding her bike around town, instead of becoming "toilet paper Nazi".
"What do you bet that Sheryl Crow uses more than one sheet of toilet paper?" Karen shouted at me, waving her arms around like a mad woman. "Do you know what constitutes one sheet of toilet paper?"
Actually, no, I do not. I don't use toilet paper, other than to amuse myself by hitting the roll with my paws and having it accumulate onto the floor. Karen loves it when she comes home and sees an entire role all over the bathroom.
Anyway, I told her this couldn't be true.
Sheryl Crow a hypocrite?
Impossible.
The next thing she'll tell me that the Colbert Report has a liberal bias, or that Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt weren't merely "good friends" before his divorce.
Is there no Santa Claus?
Did Oswald actually act alone?
Anyway, Karen told me to lay off the daytime TV. She says it's wrecking my brain. She gave me a biography of Marie Antoinette to read. According to her I should identify.
Whatever.
I've got to go. It's time for my late evening nap.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Theater of the Absurd
I was enjoying my mid morning nap in the sink when out of the blue Sadie the brilliant dashed into the bathroom and jumped up onto the counter. She started hissing loudly and at first I thought she was mad at me. Then she jumped off the counter and ran out of the room. I stood up and stretched, and went back to sleep. Within minutes, Sadie came back, repeating the same pattern. This time I got a look at her.
She wasn't hissing at me.
She wasn't hissing at me.
She was hissing at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. My assistant, the brilliant wonder that she is, was hissing at her own reflection in the mirror.
And you wonder why I don't post more???
I'm annoyed. I've got to go and take a nap, so that I have the energy later this evening to attempt to kill Sadie.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
The Way Things Ought to Be
During the Republican debate, Mitt Romney was asked what he disliked most about America. He couldn't come up with an answer. For this reason, I, Penelope the Cat, will tell Mr. Romney what is wrong with America.:
Paris Hilton Going to Jail. I asked Sadie, my personal assistant, if one was allowed to operate a motor vehicle with a suspended driver's license and her response was "What's a license?" For this, I, once again, made an attempt on her life.
My point is, with incompetent help, how can I (or she) be expected for follow these petty frivolous societal rules like if your driver's license has been "suspended" for driving 70 mph sans headlights through night time LA traffic, this means no driving at all?
What if I have things to do?
What if I get a reality show? (It's in development right now, you know.)
Does that mean I still can't drive?
Evidently, the answer to that question is yes, if this driver's license is suspended one cannot drive, as Paris discovered the hard way.
This particular issue doesn't have much to do with me. Karen is my driver and when she isn't doing other things like working she pretty much takes me wherever I want to go.
Anyway, if you want to "free Paris" there are a couple of websites with petitions. It's great: her situation is compared to Gerald Ford's decision to pardon Richard Nixon after Watergate. I don't know where these are. Find them yourself, if you so choose.
George Bush. You know about Barney, the president's terrier-- first dog, if you will. You probably also know about Miss Beazley as well. These two have their own website and two short features on the White House web site.
You probably don't know about India, the first cat. Why would that be, you ask? Because the commander-in-chief is more than happy to give those insipid dogs, who jump out of his arms to run across the White House lawn for no apparent reason, major coverage and completely snub the one who probably is running the country as we speak. And then on her minimalist information page, the author mentions that India's favorite book is If You Take a Mouse to the Movies, as if that cat is reading such drivel. I have a few contacts in D.C. and from what I heard, India is right in the middle of a Sinclair Lewis classic, It Can't Happen Here.
Anyway, I think you ought to write President Bush a letter about this. Forget Iraq, forget high gas prices, forget weapons of mass destruction, or whatever issue is eating you and keeping George the Sequel's approval rating at 28 percent. Let him know that India deserves EQUAL TIME. Sadie is working on a petition, mentioning that it would be nice if the White House rectified this grave issue. When it's ready, she'll let you know.
For today that's all I have. I'll let you know if I come up with any other pertinent issues which need to be addressed. I'm tired-- it's time for a nap.
Paris Hilton Going to Jail. I asked Sadie, my personal assistant, if one was allowed to operate a motor vehicle with a suspended driver's license and her response was "What's a license?" For this, I, once again, made an attempt on her life.
My point is, with incompetent help, how can I (or she) be expected for follow these petty frivolous societal rules like if your driver's license has been "suspended" for driving 70 mph sans headlights through night time LA traffic, this means no driving at all?
What if I have things to do?
What if I get a reality show? (It's in development right now, you know.)
Does that mean I still can't drive?
Evidently, the answer to that question is yes, if this driver's license is suspended one cannot drive, as Paris discovered the hard way.
This particular issue doesn't have much to do with me. Karen is my driver and when she isn't doing other things like working she pretty much takes me wherever I want to go.
Anyway, if you want to "free Paris" there are a couple of websites with petitions. It's great: her situation is compared to Gerald Ford's decision to pardon Richard Nixon after Watergate. I don't know where these are. Find them yourself, if you so choose.
George Bush. You know about Barney, the president's terrier-- first dog, if you will. You probably also know about Miss Beazley as well. These two have their own website and two short features on the White House web site.
You probably don't know about India, the first cat. Why would that be, you ask? Because the commander-in-chief is more than happy to give those insipid dogs, who jump out of his arms to run across the White House lawn for no apparent reason, major coverage and completely snub the one who probably is running the country as we speak. And then on her minimalist information page, the author mentions that India's favorite book is If You Take a Mouse to the Movies, as if that cat is reading such drivel. I have a few contacts in D.C. and from what I heard, India is right in the middle of a Sinclair Lewis classic, It Can't Happen Here.
Anyway, I think you ought to write President Bush a letter about this. Forget Iraq, forget high gas prices, forget weapons of mass destruction, or whatever issue is eating you and keeping George the Sequel's approval rating at 28 percent. Let him know that India deserves EQUAL TIME. Sadie is working on a petition, mentioning that it would be nice if the White House rectified this grave issue. When it's ready, she'll let you know.
For today that's all I have. I'll let you know if I come up with any other pertinent issues which need to be addressed. I'm tired-- it's time for a nap.
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