I am the Elizabeth Taylor of the feline world.

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