I am the Elizabeth Taylor of the feline world.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Happy Holidays


We have several of issues on the agenda today, so let's get to it:


SUV Mama

First of all, my good friend Jessica, aka "The SUV Driving Bitch Your Mother Warned You About" has restricted her blog to invitation only.

Well, I want an invitation.


If you know ole Jessica, please share this information.


Or if you are Jessica-- I wanna read your blog!!!


Christmas 2008

I spent Christmas at Karen's parent's house with Sadie and Chuck the dog. As you know we hate Chuck the dog for obvious reasons.


He drools.


He eats my food.


He jumps around.


He is a pleaser, which is completely ridiculous.


I tried to kill Chuck the dog and Karen stopped me. She pointed out that Chuck outweighs me by five pounds or so. I pointed out that Chuck the dog's eyes are on the side of his head and can't run in a straight line. He also has the attention span of a gnat.


Karen told me to knock it off because, as she said, it is Christmas and Jesus wouldn't approve of a homicide on His birthday.


Some people are just so hard to please.


Guest Room

We now have a guest room. Karen bought a mattress yesterday, it was delivered last night, and she set up the room this afternoon.


So now my blog reading friends, next time you are in Houston you may stay with us. Just don't bother me.


2008-- The Year of the Ass Hat

I first heard the term "ass hat" from my good friend Matt Shifely. Thus, we're giving him credit for it. Anyway, when thinking back on 2008 I couldn't think of anything to say other than, "Man, what dumb asses". So that's our theme for the year end review.


I'm holding out to write it though. Who knows what other ass hats could resurface???

Sunday, December 21, 2008

The Soulless Eyes of Reality Television

Karen and I decided to have a nice relaxing Sunday. We're both extremely busy with our respective careers: Karen educating the future of America and me organizing a plan for world domination (and of course napping).

Anyway

Let me tell you what we did:

Six a.m.: Karen wakes up. She decides to not physically get out of bed.

Seven a.m.: The alarm on Karen's cell phone goes off, playing the intro to "Enter Sandman" (it's loud and obnoxious-- don't judge). Unfortunately, Karen did not put the phone on the charger by her nightstand. It was on the bar in the kitchen.

7:01 a.m.: Karen turns off alarm on cell phone. Karen gets back into bed because it is cold. She brings with her the latest edition of Vanity Fair to read under the covers.

7:15 a.m.: Karen stumbles into the bathroom. Before she can shut the door, Sadie bolts out from underneath the bed and I scurry behind her and dive into the bathtub, hoping Karen will give us a drink from the faucet.

7:16 a.m.: Karen mumbles something about "privacy" and "entitlement", but turns on the water in the tub anyway.

7:18 a.m.: Karen gets back into bed with her magazine. I join her a few minutes later.

8:30 a.m.: Karen decides she wants coffee. However, it is cold outside of her cocoon in bed.

8:45 a.m.: Karen still has a hankering for coffee. Interestingly enough, Karen does not drink coffee, at least not "real" coffee that tastes, well, like coffee. It must be flavored. Anyway, Karen doesn't even keep coffee at home, which means getting coffee requires a run to Starbucks, to buy a cup of coffee equal to the price of a small coffee plantation in Venezuela.

9:45 a.m.: Karen drives to the local Starbucks and buys the middle size carmel machiato (sp???). She uses one of the four Starbucks gift cards she got for Christmas presents from kids at school.

10:45 a.m: Karen returns home with her coffee. She plops down on the couch, again with the Vanity Fair, for the duration. I join her, at least for a nap.

Eleven a.m.: Karen turns the television on to discover amazing reality television on Bravo! in the form of The Rachel Zoe Project. Have any of you seen this? Lemme give you the lowdown:

Rachel Zoe is a 37- year- old celebrity stylist. She talks like an aging valley girl (which, quite frankly, if valley girls hailed from New Jersey she actually would be an aging valley girl), I'm guessing she's no stranger to Botox, and wears sunglasses perpetually. My assumption regarding the shades is that she must be afflicted by some serious eye disorder which will lead to sudden blindness.

It couldn't possibly be that her eyes are a dead giveaway to the lack of a soul.

Anyway

Ole Rachel has two assistants: a girl named Taylor who is so strung out that I'm a little amazed someone hasn't wailed on her yet and this dude name Brad who cries.

I'm totally not joking.

Brad is a crier.

Basically, from the two episodes of this show we watched, the whole premise is Taylor freaks out because of something she wants ole Brad to do and didn't tell him and Brad gets whiny and upset and tells Rachel. Rachel, who is completely monotoned and I'm thinking might not have a pulse, starts rambling and, quite frankly, does not deal with the problem at hand, which is perhaps finding a pharmacist to medicate ole Taylor.

Noon: Karen is hungry. Karen makes herself a sandwich:

This is Karen's hanging out at home sandwich recipe:

One half piece of naan bread

Four strips of Turkey bacon

Several pieces of avocado

Preheat the oven to broil. Cook bread to desired level of toastiness. Cook turkey bacon on stove to desired crispness. Cut one slice of said bacon into pieces and put on small plate from Tiffany's for cat. Cut up desired amount of avocado. Place bacon, avocado on bread. Fold over. And now you've got your super awesome sandwich.

12:30 a.m.: Karen eats her lunch, continues to read her Vanity Fair, and watch crap on Bravo!.

One p.m.: A new show begins which we watch for the duration of the afternoon: The Real Housewives of Orange County. Now we've known about this piece of crap for a couple of years and, to be honest, one of Karen's dirty little secrets is that she does on occasion watch it. However, due to our busy fall, we were not aware that a new season had begun.

This show is like a bad traffic accident one cannot stop watching. I've never seen such horrible people in my life. It's just great.

For those of you who aren't aware of The Real Housewives of Orange County let me give you the lowdown: it's a reality show about the lives of these women, whose name I may or may not spell correctly:

Geena: Geena is a real estate agent and must do pretty well because her new bedding cost roughly $8,000. Anyway, she was a Playmate in the eighties and her husband, a former baseball player, is a complete asshole. They are separated but Geena is a doormat and has let him move back in until he finds himself a new place.


Whatever


Lauri: Lauri has been married three times. (FYI: most of these women are working on husband number two or three.) She just married a very rich dude who has four kids. Lauri is beautiful and looks like she's had some significant "engineering" as well.

Vicki: Ole Vicki is a piece of work. She is a workaholic. She is crazy as a loon. Her kids are very passive aggressive, I'm guessing because their mother is, well, nuts. She's loud, bossy, and opinionated, which I guess makes her idea for reality television.

Tamra: Tamra is one of those women you know was easy in high school. You just know. Anyway, she's entertaining because she's just so trampy.

Gretchen: Gretchen is thirty. Her fiance is 53 and looks about 103. This would be really comical except he has leukemia.

Cancer just sucks all the fun out of that relationship.

She talks frequently about her "real" boobs. The other women act like she's a freak because she has "real" boobs, as opposed to, well, whatever is floating around in their Diane VonFurstenburg (sp???) wrap dresses.

I might be missing someone and I'm not inclined to continue thinking about it, so watch the show. It's super awesome in a truly evil way.

2:30 p.m.: Karen feels guilty about spending the afternoon watching crap on T.V. So she does some laundry while continuing to watch crap on T.V.

Four p.m.: Housewives marathon ends. Karen begins reading her book.

Six p.m.: We begin watching Dan in Real Life. This was a pretty good movie. Sadie even joined us to watch it.

Eight p.m.:We are now watching The Three Amigos. All is good with the world.

So that was our day at home.

Isn't it wonderful? Tomorrow or Wednesday (whatever Karen decides she so inclined to do) we are going to Babs and Johnny's house. I'm excited about this because I haven't been there since the move. I'll be Babs probably has our bed all ready for us, with kitty treats on the pillow and everything.

The only problem is Chuck. Probably he'll be there. Karen told me I had to be nice to Chuck, it being Christmas and all. She said the same thing about fourth of July.

Whatever

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Good Hair ROCKS (kinda)

My open letter to Governor Rick Perry of the great state of Texas:

Dear Governor Perry:

Over the last couple of years, you have been the topic of conversation within my blog. We call you good hair because you basically look like a local news anchor who doesn't smile. We ran the clip of you saying "adios mofo" to the Texas congressman on local television (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obLGOITasek&feature=related) because it was funny. Those are just the things I can think of without going to much effort. I'm sure we've done other things, such as, well, not voting for you, but that's another story.

Of course, I can't vote, as you people have seen it fit to not allow cats to vote in this "great" country. I'm blaming the Republican party for this form of discrimination, by the way. I'm sure now that Obama, the messiah and savior of democracy in the modern world, will see it fit to allow me to vote, and then we'll see how all of this evolves, bucko!!!

But I digress. . .

Last week while the world sat in fascination of what a complete DUMBASS this Blagojevich character must be, I had an epiphany: we have been really nasty to ole good hair and for what? No one is wire tapping the governor's mansion and recording you trying to sell a senate seat. You don't use the "n" word (or at least to my knowledge-- although that tape with you and the state trooper was kinda nasty), and you aren't attempting to extort newspapers and fire the editors who don't like you. Heck, even your approval rating is higher than four percent.

So anyway, I'd like to thank you for swimming in mediocrity as of now and not getting into any ridiculous trouble.

Adios Mofo,

P (the cat)

And now we have an open letter to Senator Kay Bailey Hutchinson, Senior Senator from the great state of Texas

Dear Senator Hutchinson:

You are needed in congress. Do not run for governor.

This does not have anything to do with love for Good Hair. Just stay in DC. You rock.

P (the cat)

Can We Talk About the Weather?

Get this: Wednesday it was 28 degrees outside. Snow flurries were all about.

I could not make this up.

Karen's parents' front yard was covered with snow, or so we hear. We got nuthin'.

Considering that Tuesday afternoon it was seventy degrees outside, the "snow" did not stay "snow", if you know what I mean. But this is the gulf coast, and we have to take what we can get.

Canadians, please do not mock our enjoyment of this "snow". We know this is absurd and we simply do not care. The last time we got snow was in like 2004. Last winter Karen didn't even bring out her winter coat. I'm pretty sure shorts could have been worn to Christmas dinner.

An Ethical Dilemma

Karen and I watched Saturday Night Live last night and laughed until we cried at the Governor Paterson skit.

Is it wrong to make fun of a blind dude?

What if the blind dude is governor who was appointed after the elected governor was busted for trying to pay a hooker with money from his checking account?

What if the blind dude had to make a statement days after taking office regarding his history with cocaine and ladies other than his wife, so no one would bring it up to the media later on?

Oh, and by the way: SNL you owe Karen some royalties-- she made the comment about the Governor Paterson thing being like a bad Richard Pryor movie last year.

Go 'Stros

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Other Topics Regarding Vampire Sex


No, I am not writing today about vampire sex. I don't think vampires "do it". I could be wrong about this, but I think it falls into the same category as food consumption. Vampires, to my limited knowledge anyway, don't eat either.


I'm just looking for more hits. It's kinda like what I did with ole Rush Limbaugh a while back.


And Speaking of Ole Rushbo


Did you know that he was one of Barbara Walter's "Ten Most Fascinating People"? I don't know how "fascinating" he is, but allegedly he's got like a kajillion listeners daily.


We here at I don't pretend to be an ordinary cat think that ole Rush owes us some thanks. If it weren't for the blog probably he'd have fewer listeners. And most likely Barbara Walters wouldn't even know his name. After all, I'm still getting lots of hits regarding Rush Limbaugh's Cat.


You know he reads the blog, right? When I mention his name I magically get hits out of Palm Beach, Florida, where he lives.


I would like it if Mr. Limbaugh would comment.


I won't bite, Mr. Limbaugh, I PROMISE. . .


Anyway, I got a lot to talk about so hold on. . .


The Tree

In my last post I failed to mention whether or not Karen bought the tree. The answer to this question is, yes, Karen did indeed purchase the Christmas tree.


I don't like it as much as our old one or the tree at Karen's parents' house. First of all, Karen bought one of those trees in a pot that stand quite tall and narrow. It is impossible for me to hide underneath and jump out at people, biting them on the ankles, the one thing I enjoy most about the Christmas season.


Second, Karen told me originally that she would put the tree in the entry hall. I was totally excited about this, as it meant I could attack people as they entered the house. But no, Karen decided to put the tree in the corner of the living room.


"It's a good place for a Christmas tree, Penelope," she told me. "And it's rude, not to mention embarrassing, to attack the guests anyway."


Whatever, by now they should know it's coming.


PLAXICO: The Most Awesome News Story Since Victoria Osteen had a Histrionic Fit on the Airplane


Are you people following this?


Actually there isn't anything to really follow. It's just funny.


CNN ran a commentary this morning regarding ole Plaxico, and the journalist didn't quite comprehend why, during this time of chaos, disaster and economic turmoil, the media would obsess over this news story.


Well, I can tell you why: it is FUNNY.


The dude goes into a nightclub, packing heat, puts the gun in the waistband of his sweatpants, and it goes off, shooting him in the thigh.


First of all, who wears sweatpants to a nightclub? That's just tacky.



Second of all, what DUMBASS puts a gun in an elastic waistband anyway?


Third, NO ONE noticed the events as they unfolded. The dude was able to get to the ER, lie about what happened, and give them a fake name before all hell broke loose.



In my expert opinion, Plaxico won at a game of Russian roulette with Darwin, who was aiming for something other than his thigh and missed. It's called survival of the fittest, my friends, and Plaxico clearly doesn't need to reproduce.


Vampires and Such

I just finished Twilight not that long ago.


I got bored at the end.


I'm not getting some stuff. This might be because I'm a cat and am far superior to you human being types. But regardless, if you have the answers, please enlighten me.


Question One:

Why would anyone hang out with a vampire? Even an allegedly "good" vampire. They kill humans somewhat arbitrarily. It isn't personal. I'm sure there are very nice vampires who are pleasant and such. But still they are quite homicidal by nature.


Question Two:

Edward is freakin' moody. I get that teenager girls dig that, but why? I asked Karen this and she didn't have much of an answer, other than "an appreciation for the self loathing". Whatever.


Question Three:

OK, are any of you people vampire book experts? Of the few I've read it seems that the vampires are all haunted by something from their mortal past. I've also noticed they are frequently either flaming gay or leaning that way. Regardless, all literary vampires are beautiful (what is the other perk of vampireness, I guess.) What is my question? I don't remember. Am I right about this???


Facebook is Putting a Cramp in My Style

Freaking Karen is now on Facebook. She is also addicted to Facebook, thus using the computer far too often so I can't do what I want to do.


"Am I not gone from 6:30 in the morning until four or five every evening?" she yelled at me waving her hands all about. "Get off your ass and stop sleeping sixteen hours and blog during the day."


Whatever. That's not when I want to blog. I want to blog, well, when I want to blog. I think Karen should appriciate this.


My biggest concern is that in two weeks Karen will be gone for Christmas vacation. So then I guess I'm really screwed.


Karen should just get me my own computer. She laughed at the suggestion, by the way.


Whatever


Go 'Stros

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Recession My Ass and Other Points of Interest


FYI: I am blogging to you via a WIRELESS connection.


I am so excited.


Totally Random Issue


Today (November 30th) is the last day of hurricane season. So we are now safe again (until July, that is).


Christmas Trees, Plasmas, and the National Economy


Karen decided to buy a new Christmas tree since she accidentally left the old one in the attic at our former residence.

When I say "accidentally", I use the term loosely by the way. Karen wanted a new tree.


Anyway, she found one she liked at Michael's last week. It was two hundred bucks. Being that Karen needed to be able to make her first house payment, she didn't purchase the two hundred dollar tree, despite really wanting it and knowing that was the going rate for the tree she wanted.

So Karen held off.


Thanksgiving morning Karen discovered that Michael's had all of their trees fifty percent off. This, with a twenty percent off coupon made the tree a reasonable price. So at 5:30 Karen was off to Michael's, as the store opened Thanksgiving evening at six. She didn't think it would be a big deal: she'd arrive at Michael's at six bebop in and buy her tree.

Pretty simple, right?


Not so much.


There was a LINE outside of Michael's.


Seriously


A line


So, of course, Karen got in it.


Michael's was not the only store with a line, by the way. A bunch of people were lined up outside of Circuit City and Best Buy. They had tents and were drinking beer, kind of like an urban camp out.


Is this tradition? The mall parking statistics were like every year in the Houston area (Baybrook/ Galleria/ Woodlands at 106 percent in the morning, dropping to 85 percent capacity after lunch).


But is this tradition or are people still spending money?


I guess we won't know until next week . . .


Another Totally Random Issue
We are sitting around watching the movie Foul Play. We love this movie. If you've never seen it, rent it or stay up one night when it plays at three in the morning.


Secretary of State Hillbilly


Don't get me wrong, I really don't have a problem with Hillary as Secretary of State.


I just love calling her Hillbilly.


Anyway, what I'm loving is that ole Bill has agreed to release his donor list within his nonprofit.


So we'll know if Crystal from Scores is donating towards tsunami relief.


And Now a Final Random Moment


I posted on my sidebar one of my FAVORITE David Sedaris essays (read by him) "Six to Eight Black Men". It is about Christmas traditions. Click on it and be prepared to laugh really super dooper hard.


I posted this last year. I just thought we should see it again.


Go 'Stros

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

If James Bond Brought Me Flowers . . .


This is a concern of national importance. Forget the bailout (or lack thereof) of General Motors, forget the idea of Secretary of State Hillbilly, forget all time black Friday consumer lows, whatever. This is what you need to be concerned about:

Jeopardy!

Please explain, Penelope.

Our local television station has moved Jeopardy! to 11:37 pm.

This is a problem for two reasons:

Jeopardy! is awesome. Everyone knows this. Furthermore, we like to watch Jeopardy! in the afternoon when Karen is not at work. It's how we bond. We can't do this at 11:37 at night. Karen is, well, ASLEEP. Sadie and I are far too busy hunting. It isn't reasonable.

Furthermore, by moving Jeopardy! to 11:37, it bumps Frasier out of the late night roundup. Granted, we aren't awake at 11:37 very often, but we love Frasier. And Jeopardy! is far too difficult in the middle of the night.

Is this local programming or national? If it's local we might have to move. . .

Things that I, Penelope the Cat, am Thankful

I got this idea from Reid over at Reid All About It. Anyway, here are the things in which I am thankful:

1. Naps I love naps. I take one in the morning, one after lunch, and then another before dinner. It's awesome. And Karen just loves it that I say up all night chasing Sadie.

2. Our New House Karen cleans our box almost daily. This is awesome. She had new house syndrome so bad that most of our needs our met most of the time. The bed gets made every morning and everything. The only drawback is that since everything is clean nothing interesting gets left on the kitchen counters.

3. Tis the Season of James Bond I love that TBS and Spike run Bond movies constantly between Thanksgiving and Christmas. We here at I Don't Pretend to be an Ordinary Cat love the misogynistic Bond. He is the best.

4. 30 Rock We love 30 Rock. Last week it was a riot (with Steve Martin playing a pretend agoraphobic). Watch it.

5. Karen and the Cat Diet Karen thought that if she bought us smaller bowls we would eat less, thus I would lose the five pounds I gained while living with her parents (Karen's dad shares lunch meat with me and gives me milk, much to Karen's dismay). This is not happening. Karen is just filling the bowl more often (I wonder if she's figured this out).

6. The Bathtub Sadie and I love the bathtub in the master bathroom. We sometimes fight over who get to sit on the ledge next to the window.

7. Karen's Parents We really dig ole Babs and Johnny. They totally rock. Babs ALWAYS feeds us immediately when she notices some of the food is touching the bowl. (Karen, well, does not.) Johnny has such an aversion to wasting food that when I jump up on the counter and sample the lunch meat he ALWAYS gives me the part I sampled. It was heaven living with them. When I told Karen of these behaviors her response was "How nice for you".

8. Soft Tacos

9. My Blog Friends I love you, blog friends. Sometimes I tell Karen about you guys and refer to you as "my friends". She says, "You have no friends, Penelope. You don't leave the house, not to mention that you are mean and everyone knows it." That hurt my feelings so I sat on her face at two in the morning.

10. Flowers I like flowers. I like to jump on the table, put my front paws on the vase and sniff them. Usually at this point the vase falls over, which makes it really easy for me to lap up some water off the table before it gets on the carpet. Then I usually rub against the flowers, making a beautiful petal arrangement all over the house.
Karen no longer buys fresh flowers. She's doing this to spite me I think.

Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving. Next week we'll be on the road to Christmas and I have much in store for you then.

Go 'Stros

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Vampires and the Shelf Life of Biscotti

Have you missed me???

Guys, I've been busy grooming and napping and coming up with a plan for world domination.

Anyway, let's get started.

My Town Mondays

I've got pictures and a story idea and everything. It just isn't happening. Anyway, perhaps next week it'll happen (sorry Travis).

The Cookie Jar

At some point in her life Karen procured a Santa Claus cookie jar. This jar has been, well, sitting in a cabinet for who knows how long. Anyway, Karen was reorganizing the pantry today and the container wouldn't fit the way she wanted, so she took the lid off. Inside the cookie jar were individually wrapped biscotti.

Lots of biscotti.

Tons of biscotti.

Anyway, Karen cannot remember when she got the cookie jar. Was it a Christmas present? If so when? Last Christmas? The Christmas before? Regardless, the biscotti is now in the trash.

Such a shame.

Weird Random Moments

Last Tuesday we experienced a really nasty rain storm. The windows shook and the light fixture in the entry hall was shaking loudly. Karen did not sleep that night. She called the builder of our house the next day and although he could not come up with a great explanation for the occurrence, he asked a bunch of questions regarding the fixture itself. Anyway, Karen was describing the attachment of the fixture to the ceiling and suddenly was at a loss for words.

The problem, as it seems, was she really wanted to use the word "shaft" in this description, but couldn't do it. So in her brain she was frantically looking for a word, but nothing was OK:

Pole?

Rod?

It was horrible, according to Karen. It was like Freud was wreaking havoc with her head. Not a word she could muster didn't have a phallic connotation.

She was really embarrassed.

Is this normal human female ridiculousness that I just simply don't understand?

Whatever

The Local News
Another awesome example of our tax money at work:
http://abclocal.go.com/ktrk/story?section=news/local&id=6514867&rss=rss-ktrk-article-6514867

Once again, I could not make this up.

I don't even know what to say other than what the crap?

Book Reviews by Penelope the Cat

First book: "American Wife" by Curtis Sittenfield.

We thoroughly enjoyed Sittenfield's first book "Prep" so much that we picked up this, her third novel. It is a fictionalized account of the life of Laura Bush. How fictionalized? I don't know.

Who cares?

It's worth a read.

Here is a link to Sittenfield's essay "Why I Love Laura Bush":

http://dir.salon.com/story/mwt/feature/2004/01/29/laura

Second Book: "Twilight" by Stephanie Meyer

OK, I know, I know. I'm not quite finished yet. I'm about two- thirds done.

I will admit it: I'm intrigued.

But again, it's adolescent fiction, with a simplistic story line. Regardless, it's just complicated enough for me to keep reading.

Anyone who has read it, drop me a line, though, as I have some questions . . .

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Hissing Black Cats and Other Topics


All I can say is this: at least I got sequins.


Anyway, happy belated Halloween. I answered the door for trick or treaters. It was kind of fun sitting in the window, waiting for the kiddoes to arrive.


"I expect you to be on your best behavior," Karen told me. "That means no hissing."


Oh for crying out loud it's Halloween. I think a hissing black cat is highly appropriate.


Back in redneck hell we didn't get too many trick or treaters. One or two at best. Interestingly enough, more Halloweens than not Karen was called out of town for work, so most of our Halloween experiences have been at Karen's parent's house. Last year she was at a conference in Austin, the year before she was at a conference in Los Angeles, the year before that she was, well, at a very crazy Halloween party hosted by one of her nutty teacher friends. This year we are staying at home and answering the door.


A Change in Plans


OK, as you know I started posting the "Colin Firth Moment of the Week" about a month ago. I was changing out the clips on Sunday, but since I was kidnapped Saturday, it didn't happen last week. Anyway, that misstep gave me an idea:


Firth Fridays


Every Friday I will change out the clip instead, hence the name "Firth Fridays".


Like you people give a rat's ass. Whatever. Let me tell you about this clip from the movie Love Actually.


Karen loves this clip and calls it "romantic" and "wonderful". However, I personally find it "creepy" and "ill advised".


To begin with, she doesn't know the dude. Yeah, he's British and Colin Firth, but this is a movie and she doesn't know that. She doesn't even speak his language. He could have been asking/ telling her all kinds of things, like "are you into stamps?" or "I collect pieces of human flesh" while she cleaned house smiling so sweetly.


"Colin would never do that," Karen replied to the idea of the Firth being a stamp collecting serial killer. "It's simply impossible."


And exactly how would she know???


Other Issues


I know you people are waiting with baited breath about my take on the Madonna thing.


No really?


Madonna and Guy Richie are splitting up?


I'm so totally shocked.


Personally, if I were Guy I would have held out a little longer. With no prenump he easily could have gotten $300 million.


Whatever


Right now they are fighting over custody. Madonna wants to take the kiddoes to New York and Guy wants them to continue living in London.

I think the team of 24/7 nannies/ housekeepers/ whoever should make the decision.


Da Book Business


We are now about ninety percent unpacked. Last weekend Karen tackled probably the most difficult part of the unpacking process: the books.


21 boxes of books Karen brought to our new house.


She organized by alpha order this time. Last time Karen had a complicated system of genre then alpha. It was too much so we went totally alpha order.


Karen would personally like to thank all of those people who over the years borrowed books and didn't return them. Otherwise, we might be closer to thirty boxes.


Anyway, I hope all is good with you guys. Sorry I haven't been around as much as of late. I'm going to start being a little more diligent with the posting.


Go 'Stros

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Kidnapped

Have you missed me?

Well, I haven't had the opportunity to post as last Saturday as I was kidnapped.

Yes, kidnapped

By Karen

First she kidnapped Sadie. Innocently taking a nap in the guest room, Karen grabbed her and shoved Sadie in her carrier. I knew at that moment I needed to stay sparse. But Sadie kept whining as Karen loaded other things into her car. It got on my nerves, so I walked downstairs to tell Sadie off. Then it happened:

Karen grabbed me and took me immediately to the car.

She continued to pack random things (including Sadie) and then we headed off. I protested the entire distance, pointing out that I expressly stated on a number of occasions that I had no intention of moving and that if Karen didn't take me back to her parent's house I would be forced to call the authorities.

Karen laughed at me. She simply doesn't take me seriously.

Anyway, we got to the new house and I looked around. It doesn't have stairs. How am I supposed to get my cardio? However, it has awesome windows and a tiled entry hall for naps.

Everything is basically unpacked. We are enjoying things and plan to post pictures soon. Right now I know I have other obligations to fulfill with you guys so let's move on . . .

Obama Overdose

I didn't watch the infomercial tonight.

Does that make me a horrible cat?

Quite frankly, I don't care anymore.

I Got Nothin'
Anyway, I'm exhausted. I gotta go

Go 'Stros

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Totally Random Moment

I'm watching SNL.

I simply CANNOT tell the real Sarah Palin from Tina Fey.

It's freaking me out.

You Can Do It. We Can Help-- Once We Get Over the Munchies

Karen this morning bought a refrigerator for the new house at one of the typical places one might purchase a refrigerator, particularly if one plans to use it in one's HOME.

She very quickly found what she wanted. However, no salesman was to be found.

So she waited.

And waited

And waited

Finally, Karen sauntered over the kitchen cabinet section, where she found four people sitting around a desk area.

"Hello," she said to the group. "Could I purchase a refrigerator? Like right now?"

Three of them looked over to a guy about fifty, who walked with a limp and had a very obvious tattoo of an anchor on his forearm. He followed Karen towards the refrigerator of her choice.

"Would you like me to tell you about this one or would you just prefer to make the purchase?" he asked.

In all honesty, Karen did not need to hear his speech on this particular unit. However, she happened to noticed that the guy smelled like marijuana. After carefully weighing her options, Karen decided to get the full sales experience from the stoned dude.

At minimum, it would be an AWESOME story to tell her friends at work on Monday.

Anyway, so the salesman told her all about the features: the ledge on the butter dish, which keeps things from falling off, the lock on the ice and water dispenser so that little kids don't flood the house, etc.

"So do you have a husband?" he asked Karen.

"No, not so much," she replied.

"OK, I'm going to pick on you now: let's say your girlfriend spills something on the shelf . . ."

At this point Karen stopped listening. So now, because she's not married, Karen is a lesbian?

Obviously he's one of the few Americans who doesn't read the blog.

Granted, this is Texas, but what century does this character live in?

Once again, Karen weighs her options. She could be weirded out, drive seven miles down the road to another store which sells HOME appliances, to buy the same refrigerator, but again, I've trained Karen to recognize wonderful moments in comedy. Thus, she stuck around.

Anyway, the stoned guy took Karen back to the desk area to complete paperwork. He had a lot of trouble entering her address and getting the delivery time and date, mainly, I guess because he was STONED.

At one point he asked for Karen's driver's license.

"Oh, look at that. You look so pretty in that picture," he told her. "You must of just gotten out of bed."

I could not make this up. Yes, Karen was just told she looked bad by a dude with an anchor tattoo and visible nose hairs.

"Dude, I'm at Home Depot and clearly you are not Mr. Blackwell," Karen said indignantly.

Actually, that's not what Karen said. Karen only comes up with smart ass comments like two hours after she needs them. In reality, Karen just looked at him like "What a dumb ass".

So Karen bought a refrigerator.

From a stoned dude

Who thought Karen was a lesbian

With visible nose hairs

Who clearly has not attended any form of sales training

Karen now has a question for you, my readers of discriminating taste:

She's been selected to complete a "customer satisfaction survey" online. She's planning on doing it, as she'd be entered into a sweepstakes to win a $5,000 gift certificate.

How forthcoming should Karen be in this case?

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Chuckalicious



Ohmigosh, have I had a weekend:

Karen's mother's birthday was Wednesday. Thus, I feel compelled to write her a somewhat belated birthday letter:

Dear Karen's Mom:

I wanted to wish you a happy birthday and tell you thanks for all of the things you do for Sadie and me when Karen is slacking on her duties as house manager. When Karen heads off for work and doesn't fill the our bowl, leaving me to eat what touches the plastic dish, you always step in and take care of business. Truly, I appreciate that more than you know.

As my birthday present to you, I have decided to honor you with my undying gratitude and admiration. I told Karen to buy you a Mercedes, but she said that you wanted a tree for the backyard instead. I suggested an orchard, but she said you weren't the "orchard" type.

Truthfully, I think that's code for Karen is cheap and lazy. You really should have raised her better. But what can you do?

Anyway, we hope your birthday is lovely. Sadie and I think you are fabulous.

-- P

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner
He's baaack. . .

Chuck

The Chuckster

Chuck a luck a luckster.

I think Chuck is addicted to methanphetomines. His eyes are bloodshot and he's always moving around fast and erratically. I really don't think Karen's parents should allow a known drug addict into their home. I mean what if he starts burning the Sudafed to get a fix? I read somewhere that meth is highly flammable and dangerous. I can't have our house exploding, like on one of those tabloid news shows. After all, I'm Penelope the Cat, I have a reputation to uphold.

"Chuck is not a meth addict," Karen told me. "He's bug eyed so stuff irritates his eyes easily and for crying out loud he's a puppy. Stop judging him."

Whatever.

"And don't be going online and telling all your blog friends that Chuck is a meth addict. That's not responsible journalism."

Too late

Furthermore, he ate some of my food. Actually, he ate a lot of my food. I know this because he left dog stench and slobber all over.

He also sat in my chair.

That dog has some nerve. Thankfully, he's leaving Monday morning, so I'll have some peace and quiet.

Sadie is ready for him to go as well. She's taken a liking to Karen's mom and they to the crossword puzzle together in the evenings. When Chuck is here, Sadie does not feel particularly comfortable curling up on the couch with the evening paper.

I don't think he's sanitary either. One of the first things he did when he got in town Saturday afternoon was crap all over the living room. You should have seen it. He left poop on the floor, on the rug, by the back door. I've never seen so much crap in my life that wasn't confined in my litter box, of course.
Anyway, all is pretty good with my world right now. O.J. Simpson got convicted of stealing sports crap. Saturday Night Live hasn't had political sketches this good since, well, ever. And Karen and I are upstairs in our room. She is grading papers and I am sitting quietly with watching Ironman on her DVD player. Sadie is in the bathroom chillin in the sink. And for some weird reason my computer is not letting me paragraph break. Freakin' Crazy. Go 'Stros.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

The Limbaugh Kidnapping

My Favorite News Story that I Missed Due to Ike sans Tina:

O.J. Simpson

I wrote about this last year:
http://penelopeandsadie.blogspot.com/2007/10/on-justice.html


Personally, I think it's wonderful-- O.J. Simpson might spend the rest of his life in jail over stolen football jerseys. What else can I say-- karma's a real bugger.

Open Letter to Rush Limbaugh

Dear Mr. Limbaugh:

Friday you mentioned that the three husbands of the women who called into your show today should be giving thanks because you listened to them and soothed their concerns regarding America turning to crap (my words not yours or theirs), thus said husbands will have a calm and tranquil evening upon returning home from the office.

Clearly, you have a false understanding of women. Yes, you did listen to them. Nonetheless, they are still pissed. I can guarantee these women probably are still whining about their fears regarding ole Barry, as they fix martinis for their husbands upon their arrivals home from work.

I've lived with a female human for seven years. I can listen to her rant and rave until I want to barf. It doesn't end until she decides she's ready for it to end. Period. It's called free will, bucko. The chickas have it. You, self-important radio man, simply do not have that control, regardless of whatever condescending crap speech you decide to spew.

If you feel that I am mistaken, please contact me. I will send you Karen. Karen will be very angry, as, no offense, she does not like you. If you can talk her out of the tree and, well, survive. I will concede I am wrong about your powers over the ladies.

I'm not seeing this as all that feasible. In fact, I have no idea how I would even send you Karen. I guess you could kidnap her. If you decide to do this, remember to take her cell phone because she's looking for a story to sell the Enquirer. Otherwise, I think she wouldn't be too difficult to nab.

-- P

Scenes from Karen's Family and Her Influence (or lack thereof) Over Them

Karen tried to get her family to appreciate Bridget Jones' Diary.

It didn't work.

I think her mom kind of liked it. Kind of.

Her dad said:

"Is this what we have to watch? Because this is seriously boring."

"Why can't we watch a western?"

So much for that, I guess.

More on Karen

Karen wants me to start posting pictures of her house.

Like a lot of them

All of the time.

In fact every time we chat she mentions pictures and I should post them.

First of all, the house right now looks like crap. I've seen the pictures. Granted there are walls and stuff, but mainly it's still a mess of concrete and coke cans with a Jiffy John in the yard. Furthermore, I've told you guys that I have no intention of living in that place, so why should I post pictures of it.

However, since I just mentioned to Rush Limbaugh that it would be OK for him to attempt a kidnapping of Karen, I probably should throw her a bone.

Here's the plan: I will post one picture a week in the sidebar of Karen's house. Just one. Not one hundred. Just one. I'm not doing it now though. I'll do it soon.

Anyway, I'm tired. I'm off to bed.

Go 'Stros

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Colin and Ike-- Although Unrelated

Sadie and I are tired of Karen and her people hanging around the house during the day. They've got to go back to work. Period. It's driving me nuts, as I've got things to do and I can't do any of them as long as those people are roaming around bothering me.

Offense Taken

Tell me your thoughts on this:

A couple of Sundays ago, I was sitting on a chair at the kitchen table, just casually enjoying my morning when a certain six-year-old approached me and said, "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha I'm going to church and you aren't."

Exactly how am I supposed to take this? This child, who was thankfully leaving shortly thereafter, is taunting me regarding church attendance? My feelings are very much hurt and I might not ever go to church again if this is the attitude they are taking.

"Penelope, do you really want to go to church?" Karen asked me when I mentioned this slight.

Actually, no, I'd rather spend the time napping at home during one of the few moments when it is completely empty, thank you much.

But that's besides the point.

My Gift to You

In Karen's sheer boredom (her school experienced some Ike damage, so she isn't returning to work until Wednesday) we've watched Pride and Prejudice in pieces since the power returned late Sunday/ early Monday. We've enjoyed it so much that Karen suggested we show weekly clips of the whopping six hour version from 1995.

I decided that was a little much. I thought it would be more enjoyable for my readers to show our favorite Colin Firth moments. So, via YouTube, we now have a new feature:

Colin Firth Moment of the Week.

"Why don't you have a George Clooney moment of the week as well?" Karen suggested.

I told her that would be going just a bit too far. But it's something to consider for the future.

Anyway, I went to YouTube to find some clips and whatnot and there are some really freaky Firth fans. I mean, granted, Karen announce rather excitedly during one of the opening scenes of Mama Mia that she "loved" Colin Firth, but it was pretty loud with all those other middle aged ladies singing and drooling and whatnot. But there are Firth collections put to music all over YouTube. That takes time and dedication, my friends.

I chose the air guitar scene for my first Firth Moment of the Week from What a Girl Wants. It's by far not my favorite Firth moment, but I'm saving those for later.

If you haven't seen What a Girl Wants, it's a nice, sweet family movie. Basically, Amanda Bynes goes to England to find her father, who is a British Lord (Colin Firth). It's good PG fun.

Other Things

Down the street from Karen's parents house is a Point of Delivery (POD) location, where dudes in camouflage Hummers (I'm totally not making this up-- I thought the Canadians invaded or something) distribute food, ice, water, etc. Anyway, Karen won't get in line and bring me one of those FEMA self heating meal things. I really wanted to write about how these things work. Heck, I was going to bring to you people FEMA Fridays or something of the sort, but noooooooo, Karen won't get in the line for a mere three or four hours to get me some demonstration models.

Whatever.

More Other Things

The 'Stros are experiencing post traumatic stress disorder I guess due to ole Ike. Why else would they be sucking so incredibly much as of late??? This is one of those moments in which I would think the 'Stros should really reconsider their game plan of not using gloves before the 4th of July. But what do I know . . .

Anywho, I've got to go. It's time for my late afternoon nap.

Go 'Stros

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

We Survived Immanent Death and Destruction

I'm bored.

I'm bored of 24/7 continuous coverage of Ike. We know it wasn't good. We know there are only two open gas stations open in a twenty mile radius. We know that most grocery stores do not have anything sellable in the frozen food section. We know that basically no one is going to school this week.

But I would really like to watch The Office come Thursday.

However, I will say that we are blessed:

We have power.

We have food.

We have a roof.

We don't have a tree in our dining room.

We don't need to go to the POD (place where ice, food, and water are given out).

I have plenty of kitty treats.

The weather has been FABULOUS the last few days: high today of 81, low of 59, and virtually no humidity.

Canadians, this is really good. We've spent since May with low of 95 high of 103 with humidity hovering at 100 percent.

We have Internet and cable access. Actually, as soon as the power returned Sunday night we had Internet. Cable returned the next morning.

And I am happy because:

Sarah Palin is no longer cooperating with the whole "I tried to fire that scumbag of a soon-to-be ex brother-in-law" investigation, as it is "tainted". I totally love this story as on many an occasion I've wanted to do something like that, but didn't because, well, I didn't want to have to explain to Karen exactly why Sadie was no longer living in the house. It would just be too complicated.

This looks like a totally great drama. Everyone (except for me of course, as I'm completely evil) is so freakin' supportive of the whole knocked up teenage daughter thing that I'm totally ready for some nastiness. I don't care on what topic, either. Everyone right now is behaving and being supportive because we all just avoided "immanent death". It's getting old. I'm ready for some drama.

Anyway, I'm off to take my afternoon nap. The world needs to return to normal, as I'm not only tired of being nice and sympathetic, but I'm also getting irritated with all these people hanging out at the home front during the day.

Go 'Stros.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Ike: We've Gotta Get Back to Our Originally Scheduled Programs


By the way, I got this from Rush Limbaugh:
On NATIONAL RADIO it was said that the good citizens of Galveston were facing "immanent death" if they chose not to leave their homes due to pimp daddy Ike and his bitch slapping of the gulf coast. (I am so using as many Ike Turner references as I can muster today.)
Let me explain this a little better as apparently the national media is a bunch of histrionic asshats.

Probably the good people of Galveston are not facing "immanent death". Probably, if you live on the west end of Galveston, which is unprotected by the seawall, you are a complete dumb ass for not evacuating two days ago. Probably if you live on the Bolivar peninsula, you are a complete dumb ass for staying, as ferry service stopped last night, the road which leads to Winnie washes out if someone cries, and, most likely you are guaranteed to lose power and water for a LONG PERIOD OF TIME. Although your situation is not great, I'm not seeing "immanent death". I do predict it highly likely that you will be called an idiot by a member of the coast guard when they rescue you off the roof, though.
However, there are things that could possibly kill you during natural disaster. Let me give you some examples:
1. If you decide it would be pretty cool to walk around the neighborhood barefoot, which is underwater by roughly two feet, and get bitten by a snake, you could totally die.
2. If you decide if would be fun to drive to Kemah (where most of the roads are roughly one foot under sea level) to see what's going on at the Boardwalk, which, well, LITERALLY has no boardwalk anymore and you get hit on the head with a piece of flying debris (winds are right now at 35 mph on the coast and the eye won't even cross land until roughly midnight tonight). You could die.
3. If you really like your neighbor's brand new plasma and you "think" they evacuated-- so it would be really cool to loot, just remember this is Texas. You have about a one in three chance of NOT GETTING SHOT.
4. If your neighbors are crazy rednecks and didn't clear off their porch you could be decapitated by that old tire iron which has been sitting in their front yard for six months when it's propelled through your front window. Yep, that would kill ya.
5. If you thought it would be really cool to experience 120 mph winds in a trailer in Bacliff, yep, you could die.
6. If you get into a fight over the last pack of cigarettes with that old lady attached to an oxygen tank, who Karen saw smoking outside the one and only grocery store open within a twenty mile radius today, you could, possibly, die.
7. If you decide to "hit those bitchin' waves" tomorrow morning and get slammed into the seawall. It is highly likely you will die.
8. If you decide to replace a light bulb in your kitchen, which is already four feet underwater, you could die.
9. If, out of sheer boredom, you start drinking tonight and continue well into tomorrow, and later in the evening get into a verbal sparring match with a cop regarding curfews, open container laws, and golf carts, you could get arrested. If, while sitting in the cell at the Clear Lake Shores police department, rising water begins to appear, yeah, you could die.
10. If tomorrow sounds like a good shrimping day to you and you decide to act on the impulse, you could possibly die.
As for me, I am right now safe and dry with Karen at her parent's house. It's windy and we most likely will sleep downstairs for the evening just because of the noise. Being that we aren't particularly close to the coast, I'm not too worried about out safety.
But stay tuned sophisticated readers. If I have Internet access, I'll post in 24 hours. . .
Go 'Stros

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Our House in the Middle of Our Street


OK, I've got a lot of stuff to cover, so let's get to it:

Correction
It was brought to my attention that Karen's mom also helped with the ceiling fan installation (see previous post). I happen to rather like Karen's mother as she is far better at taking care of my needs than Karen who is right now limiting my food intake to exclusively the food which gets put in my bowl. Probably, I'm not moving with Karen. My current plan is to stay right where I am.

Anyway, for this reason it is very important that I recognize her and tell her how much I love her, despite the fact that she practically almost killed me when throwing a towel in the laundry room this evening.

The Story Which Made My Life Worth Living This Morning
http://www.nydailynews.com/news/politics/republican_race/2008/09/03/2008-09-03_teen_mom_support_group_jamie_lynn_spears.html

Does it make me completely evil that I find this so wonderful?

OK, I know that probably I'm completely evil for other reasons. Whatever. I still find it funny.

OK Penelope, like a bunch of people entered your little contest, and you didn't give the answer to the trivia question. What gives?
A while back I posted a little trivia question:
http://penelopeandsadie.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-former-town-mondays-hopefully.html

First of all, NOBODY actually got the question 100 percent correct. Travis, Reid (who are Texans) and Joshua were close, but not exact. The answer is:

Dusty Hill

Dusty Hill is in the rock band ZZ top. He owns a waterfront monstrosity in San Leon, Texas (the town next door to Kemah) which shares a zip code with our former hometown of Redneck Hell. Apparently, he is tired of living in greater Redneck Hell and has decided to sell his house. Much to our relief, buyers preferred Karen's house to Mr. Hill's (perhaps it is the lack of zebra print carpet-- I don't know) as his is still on the market and Karen's is not.

Plus who wants to live in 12,000 square feet when you could have a nice cozy existence in 1,295 square feet? It's much more efficient. And who needs "waterfront"? That just sounds like a big problem waiting to happen.

Karen's Big Announcement
OK, I was under very strict instructions not to mention this to ANYONE, as Karen didn't want to say anything until the monkey of her other house was off her back.

She's getting a brand new house. Here it is:

http://www.perryhomes.com/images/floorplan_pdfs/1495.PDF

Karen is all excited, picking out carpet, tile, counter tops and the lot.

As you can tell from the picture above it is a little scary right now. Karen swears it'll get better before anyone is expected to live there.

Whatever. I'm still refusing to move. It has no stairs.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

How I Spent My Summer (or Diary of a Nasty Housing Market)


June 22nd:
The house is pretty much finished. Realtor Jan stops by. She makes a few suggestions of things to change, including painting the cabinets in the master bathroom.

June 23rd:
Karen prepares to paint the bathroom cabinets. She goes to Home Depot where she discovers this must be done with oil based paint.

That evening Karen paints the cabinets, finishing at roughly midnight.

June 24th:
At noon (twelve hours later) the oil based paint is still not dry. In fact, the oil based paint is totally wet. Karen drops a/c temperature to 70 degrees.

3 pm: Paint still wet

6 pm: Paint still wet

10 pm: Paint still wet

Karen is very concerned.

June 25th:
8am Paint is still damp. Karen is able to reattach doors for pictures. Realtor Jan takes pictures and house is officially listed.

June 26th:
10 am Karen is freaking out because the bathroom cabinets do not look "good". Calls Juan the paint expert to help her fix a few things.

2:30 pm: In a matter of two hours, Juan the paint expert fixes the kitchen cabinets, patches a small hole in the wall behind the fridge (and paints over it), and paints the area around the kitchen window

In the meantime, Karen replaces the guts in the guest toilet, as it won't stop running. However, when replacing the "guts", a small leak appears at the water tank (seal wasn't taking).

June 27th:
Bed is made. No one comes to see house.

June 28th:
Karen cleans all bathrooms AGAIN and is not successful with fixing leaky toilet in guest bath. Still no one looks at house.

June 29th:
The house listed. Karen vows to make her bed every morning and "be neat". Two people call that morning feigning interest. No success with toilet leak, again.

June 30th:
The house is listed. No one calls to see it. Karen made her bed and is continuing to "be neat".

July 1st:
The house is still listed. No one calls to see it. Karen continues to live in a tidy fashion.

July 2nd:
The house is sitting pretty with pictures on HAR.COM. Still no showings.

3 pm: The dryer breaks with Karen's sheets in it. Karen's super awesome neighbors allow her to use their dryer. Guest toilet still screwed up as well.

July 3rd:
The house is still very neat and clean. No one calls to see it.

July 4th:
Again, the house is very neat and clean. And again, no one calls to see it.

July 5th:
11:30 am Karen decides to put part of an avocado peel down the disposal. Disposal stops working.

And again, Karen makes her bed, but no one comes to see the house.

July 6th:
House is still very neat, but no one comes to see the it.

July 7th:
Karen and realtor Jan get antsy. Decide to put ad in Greensheet. Karen still making bed and being neat. No showing, though.

July 8th:
Karen creates a blog listing to show off house pictures. Emails literally hundreds of agents with link. Karen still making bed and being neat, regardless of no showings.

July 9th:
Karen buys St. Joseph, the patron saint of real estate. Plans to bury it in yard.

July 10th:
Ad in Greensheet appears. Realtor Jan gets no calls.

July 11th:
Realtor gets call regarding ad in Greensheet from someone wanting to rent it. This is not helpful.

July 12th:
Karen learns she is not particularly patient and does not wait well. Begins to fear we will have to live in redneck hell forever. Still Karen makes her bed and lives neatly.

July 13th:
Karen changes out light bulb in bedroom. In the process breaks light cover.

July 14th:
Karen purchases new light cover for ceiling fan. It does not fit.

July 15th:
Karen returns light cover and purchases new light kit for ceiling fan. Light kit does not fit.

3 pm: Karen does not particularly feel inclined to bury St Joseph in flower bed. Decides to create a new spot for him somewhere else.

July 15th:
10 am: Karen discovers she will have to replace entire ceiling fan since Hampton Bay no longer makes light kits or light covers to fit her ceiling fan. Karen considers how she plans to remedy this problem.

Noon: Karen realizes that nothing in her house had broken in over a year and when she decides to put it on the market everything turns to crap.

3 pm: Karen places St. Joseph on the bookshelf next to the fireplace. Looks carefully at figurine and decides he is interesting and decides to start a collection of patron saint action figures.

6 pm: Karen decides to cook dinner.

6:45 p.m.: THE HOUSE GETS A SHOWING!!! Karen rushes around to tidy up house.

6: 50 p.m.: When attempting to stash something in the laundry closet upstairs, door falls off hinges.

7:30 p.m.: Karen leaves home for an hour so realtor Jan can show house. Karen returns only to see that people are still in house with realtor.

8:45 p.m.: People still in house.

9 p.m.: Karen decides visitors are wearing out their welcome. Karen returns home and meets potential buyer who had some questions.

9:30 p.m.: Karen answers all questions for potential buyer. Realtor leaves with potential buyer one.

9:45 p.m.: Realtor Jan calls Karen. Potential buyer one is very interested. However, feels that she should get a five percent discount on the house, along with a new air conditioner.

July 16th:
7 am: Karen calls Bob's AC, who agree to come out to service and inspect unit.

9 am: Unit passes inspection with flying colors. Karen still gets bid on new condenser.

9:30 am: Discusses this with Realtor Jan. Karen agrees to get new condenser if buyer agrees to full amount.

10 am: Buyer says no dice.

10:30 am: Karen calls potential buyer one a few nasty names (to realtor Jan, of course, not buyer). Realtor talks Karen out of the tree and says the best thing to do right now is nothing.

July 17th:
9 am: Karen gets call for another showing. All excited, Karen makes bed and takes out trash.

9:15 am: Doorbell rings and Karen finds potential buyer one standing on her doorstep with new realtor.

9:16 am: Discovering a case of a realtor slut, Karen thinks to herself that she just can't wait to mention this to realtor Jan, who buyer one had verbally agreed to work with as a mediator. (This cuts fees to four percent.)

9:17 am: As buyer one looks at entry hall closet Karen grabs her purse to leave. She then turns around and ever so casually says to buyer number one, "I thought you didn't have a realtor." Buyer number one stammers in front of new realtor or whomever.

9:18 am: Karen leaves and calls Realtor Jan on cell phone. Realtor tries very hard to stay professional.

9:30 am: Karen is secretly relieved, as wasn't totally comfortable with "mediator" situation anyway and buys refrigerator light bulb from Home Depot.

10 am: Karen returns home, not feeling the need to give potential buyer one another two hours of her life. Buyer one leaves shortly thereafter.

July 18th:
10:30 am: Karen gets call for another showing that afternoon.

10:31 am: Karen specifically asked showing service who is showing the house, as not particularly interested in going to much trouble for buyer one. Karen discovers this time it will be shown by a completely different realtor.

10:32 am: Karen makes bed and tidies up house and goes about her day.

July 19th:
9:30 am: Realtor Jan calls Karen and tells her that she hasn't heard a word back from buyer one and potential buyer two would prefer not to leave hometown, which is Karen's hometown. She also asks Karen to find out if she has a windstorm certificate. Since Karen has no idea what this is she assumes she does not.

9:31 am: Karen wonders why potential buyer two looked in redneck hell if wasn't interested in living in redneck hell, which, by the way, is one of the fastest growing cities in the Houston area. However, this is only a temporary distraction from the fact that she doesn't have a windstorm certificate.

July 20th: Karen is beginning to feel quite confident she will live in redneck hell forever. Nevertheless, she is still making her bed every morning.

July 21st: No showing today, even though Karen made her bed.

July 22nd:
10 am: Karen calls insurance company to find out if she really needs windstorm certificate. Insurance people have no idea what she is talking about and research topic.

1:00 pm: Karen's insurance representative calls after research to tell her she might be grandfathered in and won't need the certificate to sell the house. However, he won't know for sure until the state insurance people return his call, which won't be any time soon since a hurricane is headed straight for south Texas/ Mexico.

3:00 pm: Insurance dude calls Karen again. After talking to some other people, he tells her she has to have the certificate and doesn't know how she'll get it without replacing the roof.

3:01 pm: Karen spends hour crying, as she really doesn't want to replace a ten- year- old roof

3:45 pm: Karen calls HOA president as means of researching when roof was replaced.

3:46 pm: Karen was not successful in this endeavor.

3:47 pm: Karen is once again worrying she'll have to live in redneck hell forever.

July 23rd:
9:00 am: Karen calls realtor Jan, who explains to Karen she doesn't have to "prove" her roof is only ten years old, but only have it inspected.

9:10 am: Karen calls engineering company to schedule time for inspector to inspect roof.

Still, Karen is making her bed, despite no one looking at her house.

July 24th:
3:30 pm: Roof inspector comes out to house. Says roof will pass after minor repairs.

4:30 pm: Roof repairs made by a dude named Tom in less than twenty minutes. Karen writes check to $200 bucks.

July 25th:
Roof reinspected and passed. Karen writes another check for certificate.

Karen realizes she is writing a lot of checks.

July 26th:
Karen persuades the evil Jeff and her father to come over Sunday and help her fix the laundry room door, the disposal, the toilet, and help her change out the ceiling fan.

July 27th:
Evil Jeff and Karen's dad are successful in fixing the toilet and the laundry room door. They even help her out with the attaching the motor of the fan. However, they were not able to fix disposal.

July 28th:
Karen goes to Home Depot and buys a disposal and schedules a time for them to install it. Inspired with all the fixed stuff in her house, Karen decides to clean laundry room. In the process of cleaning the laundry room, Karen fixes dryer.

Karen decides she's the Martha Stewart of home repair and calls everyone she knows to brag. She also does a load of laundry to celebrate.

And again, no one looks at her house, but the bed is made.

July 29th:
After starting a load of laundry the night before, Karen discovers that that her washing machine stopped after cycle one, leaving clothes sitting in water.

Karen calls a repairman who agrees to come out the next day.

July 30th:
10 am: Disposal guy comes and installs the disposal in less than ten minutes.

2 pm: Washer repair dude comes and repairs washer in less than five minutes.

Karen no longer feels like the Martha Stewart of home repair.

But still, she made her bed.

July 31st:
Karen decides to distract herself by completely redoing the flower bed in the front of her house. Power washes front of house, as thought it was "dingy".

August 1st:
Karen borrows gardening tools from parents. Father threatens to cut off hand if said materials are not returned.

August 2nd:
Spends close to $150 on dirt, plants, mulch, fake stone, and other gardening materials.

Spends entire day clearing flower bed and trimming hedge.

Very relieved no one is coming to see house, as entry hall looks nasty from dirt.

August 3rd:
Plants flowers and bushes in flower bed. Looks very nice.

Still, no more showings, despite Karen making bed.

August 4th:
Problem: tropical storm forms in the gulf headed straight for Galveston.

Karen curses herself for not paying attention to the local news.

Karen mops entry hall and kitchen to clean up after the dirt.

Karen gets call for a showing that evening.

August 5th:
4 am: Karen wakes up in anticipation of the storm. New casters mention that the storm veered north towards Louisiana.

4:15 am: Karen walks outside. Absofreakinglutely nothing. No wind, no rain.

Nothing


5 am: Karen walks outside again. Still absolutely nothing.

OK, this is our complaint about news coverage and storms: Is it really necessary to have all day news coverage on all three major networks? First of all, the people who really need the information probably don't have power. Second, being cooped up totally sucks. Wouldn't it be nice to watch a nice 007 marathon?

Karen gets another call for showing that evening.

August 6th:
Karen gets contract. Karen is too numb to get excited. Karen and realtor Jan talk numbers for negotiation.

August 7th:
Karen doesn't hear back from realtor and realtor doesn't hear back regarding negotiation. Karen once again resigns herself to living in redneck hell for the rest of her life.

August 8th:
Realtor Jan calls and gives final information regarding deal. Now we go to inspections.

August 9th:
Karen is worrying about everything. Right now she's concerned about appraisal numbers.

August 10th:
Karen is still worrying about everything.

August 11th:
Karen discovers that she is not only wretched at waiting, but is also a wretched negotiator.

August 12th:
Karen is trying to distract herself with work stuff.

August 13th:
The inspection is set for Thursday. Karen gets a referral for a fence guy to repair the back fence.

Two very tan shirtless dudes (but not in a good way) appear at the house and rebuild fence. The fence was repaired in roughly an hour.

August 14th:
Inspection is completed while Karen sits at a work meeting. She said it was very surreal knowing someone was in her house poking around while she was away.

August 15th:
And the inspection comes back. The buyer amends contract for only one thing:

A brand new air conditioner.

Karen and realtor Jan offer $1,000 in cash towards the purchase of a new unit, along with a $350 renewable home warranty.


August 16th:


8:30 am: Karen waits to hear from realtor


9:00 am: Karen still hasn't heard from realtor


10:30 am: Karen waits very nervously


11:45 am: Karen is still waiting.

1:30 pm: Karen is still waiting and more nervous


2:00 pm: Realtor Jan calls to tell her that she hasn't heard anything.


2:05 pm: Karen is beginning to resign herself to living in redneck hell for the rest of her life.


2:15 pm: Karen even more nervous. Says short prayer and promises to be incredibly nice to the kiddoes next school year.


3:30 pm: Karen's realtor calls to tell her the offer was ACCEPTED!!! Karen says another prayer of thanks.


3:45 pm: Realtor Jan emails paperwork to Karen, which Karen signs, scans, and sends


August 17th:
Karen moves a lot of her belongings into the parent's house.


August 18th:


Appraisal dude appraises house. Karen trying to not loose sleep.


August 19th:


9 am: Karen gets call from realtor Jan, who tell her house meets appraisal value.


2 pm: Realtor Jan calls again. Apparently survey was done incorrectly when Karen bought house. The right corner of the back of the house was marked "south" instead of southwest. This is keeping closing paperwork from being processed.


Once again, I could not make this up.


2:05 pm: Karen cries.


4 pm: Karen calls title company, who originally did the closing back in 2001, to rant. Underwriter Linda was very nice and Karen didn't have to give her planned out speech involving law suits and fire.


August 20th:

Karen gives presentation at work. Glad to be distracted from house drama.


11 am: Realtor Jan calls Karen to tell her closing papers were finalized with a different underwriter. All is good but might need a new survey.


2 pm: Realtor Jan calls again saying no new survey is needed.


August 21st:

Closing date is changed to Thursday, August 28th.



August 22nd:

All is pretty good with the world.


Title company needed Home Owner Association information. Karen leaves work early to give it to them.


August 23rd:
Karen moves out of house and gets her hair done, but not in that order.



August 24th:

Karen rests, trying not to worry.



August 25th:

Problem Number One: Tropical Storm Gustavo.



A house in Galveston County cannot go to closing when a hurricane is in the gulf. Storm not expected to enter gulf until Sunday, much to the relief of Karen.



Karen worried about buyer wigging regarding natural disasters.



Problem Number Two: Labor Day weekend is the busiest weekend of the year for closings.



Problem Number Three: According to title company gal, the loan office used by buyer is notoriously SLOW.



Can we see problems???



August 26th:

No word on anything. Karen is attempting to stay patient.



August 27th:

4 pm: No paperwork yet, according to realtor Jan. Agreed to talk in the morning. Buyer purchased insurance a day in advance, as insurance provider would not bind policies Friday as storm was too close.


August 28th:

10 am: Karen called realtor Jan. No papers yet.



1 pm: Still no papers. Realtor Jan tells Karen to call before she leaves.



3 pm: Still no papers. Realtor Jan tells to head on out, but prepare for it not to happen.



Karen makes arrangement to Friday to miss work for the closing.



4:30 pm: Karen calls realtor Jan from Sonic to find out if she has time to get something to eat, as did not have time for lunch today. Realtor Jan informs Karen closing will not happen.



Neither Karen or Realtor Jan is overly thrilled. But closing is scheduled for three the next day.



August 29th:

10 am: Karen gets call from Realtor Jan. Apparently closing papers were held up again because insurance policy was written wrong.



Realtor Jan tries very hard to stay professional.



New policy being written by a different company who was willing to bind today.



10:15 am: Karen decides to spend her day shopping for a dining room table.



1 pm: Karen calls realtor Jan who tells her that papers are still not in, probably because of insurance screwup and not to hold breathe about closing today.



Karen still shopping.



1:30 pm: Karen calls underwriter. Karen discusses matters with underwriter who again blames loan office. Karen asks for name of loan office so that she can tell EVERYONE she knows not to use them. Karen also suggests that she call loan office herself so that to inform them of her one woman attempt to "spread the word", so to speak.



Underwriter agrees to call loan dudes.



Sometimes it totally pays to be a little off kilter.



1:45 pm: Underwriter calls to tell Karen that papers will be at office in 45 minutes and her closing will be at four.



Karen is happy. Continues to shop for table.



4:00 pm: Karen gets to closing. Meets buyer, and buyer agent.



4:15 pm: Karen waits



4:20 pm: Number need to be checked on paperwork. Karen continues to wait.



4:30 pm: Karen continues to wait.



4:45 pm: Underwriter announces that house won't be "funded" until Tuesday.



5:00 pm: Buyer's agent begins discussing "rentback" with buyer.



5:15 pm: Negotiate rentback



5:30 pm: Jan and Karen flip through People and discuss Sarah Palin (this is before knocked up teenage daughter, so conversation was limited to, well, everything not related to knocked up teenage daughter).



5:35 pm: Discuss Britney Spears' mom writing a parenting book. Karen mimics the Deliverance theme in waiting room of underwriter's office.

5:40 pm: Karen entertains buyer, buyer's agent, and realtor Jan with Hurricane Rita evacuation story: driving fourteen hours (roughtly 6 mph--average-- slower than horse and buggy, I suspect) to Austin. Karen wigging out about people who live 75 miles from the coast joining the evacuation (see the problem) and listening to Coast to Coast crazies talking about their alien abduction stories. Karen considered calling in herself and telling those crazies off.



FYI: If you've never heard Coast to Coast it runs at like 3 or 4 am on AM radio nationally. At least once in your life you gotta listen to it, as it is completely bizarre.


5:45 pm: Karen beginning to get antzy.


5:50 pm: Discusses new house options with realtor Jan and buyer's agent (more on this in next post my friends), as buyer works on getting power and water in Karen's soon to be former house.


6:00 pm: Finally begin to sign papers.


6:05 pm: Karen signs about a kajillion pieces of paperwork declaring her house is, well,no longer hers.


6:10 pm: Karen still signing.


6:20 pm: Karen still signing.


6:30 pm: All papers are signed. Karen and realtor Jan hug. All is hopefully good with the world.


August 30th:
All television coverage is "Gustavo" which is probably good for Govenor Palin, as people get really pissy when Repubicans have drama.



However, this is very boring.



August 31st:

Still all television is Gustavo. We are totally bored with so much coverage which only involves us if we choose to take Interstate Ten to join those evacuating from Louisiana and spending a long weekend in Houston (this time not in the Astrodome).



September 1st:

Result of Gustavo in relation to Houston: it got kinda windy this evening.



It might rain Wednesday.



September 2nd:

9 am: Karen is told that she has to drive an extra thirty miles after work to return to closing office so she may sign a HUD document which was drawn up wrong.


On the bright side she will get her house money today.


5 pm: Karen gets house money. Drives across the street to bank and deposits check.


5:15 pm: Deposits check.


And, as far as I know, all is done with the house drama.


Karen would like to thank realtor Jan and the gals with Southland Title for a riotous last few days. It's been memorable.


So basically, that was our summer. Hopefully next year will be just as exciting.


Anywho, in the next few days I'll let tell you about phase two of our housing mission: the new house.


Go 'Stros.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

A Dream Destroyed

I have a really big problem:

Karen

She's totally messing up my system.

A week ago, Karen moved all of her crap (and herself) into her parents' house. This is fine, but she's become quite a hindrance within my newly enjoyable lifestyle.

First off, she told her parents that I really didn't need to eat turkey sausage at breakfast. Exactly what does Karen know about "my needs"? I happen to like the turkey sausage at breakfast, thank you very much.

And let me ask you this, dear readers of discriminating taste.:

If someone gets lunch meat out of the refrigerator and then puts it on the counter and walks away from it, isn't said lunch meat free game? On a couple of occasions I've helped myself to a snack, assuming it was meant for me, and these people totally start freaking out.

Karen's dad is pretty cool. He always gives me the lunch meat I was munching on after the fact.

"Oh yeah, that's going to teach her not to jump on the kitchen counters and steal food," Karen told him.

Whatever

Karen told me in June when we moved in here that this was only temporary and we'd be moving into a new house after she bought a new one.

Well, I've decided I'm not going. Karen's parents are far nicer. They totally understand my importance. Karen's mom even pours food in my bowl when she wakes up in the morning, as opposed to Karen who doesn't feed us until right before she leaves for work.

Besides, Karen has mentioned on a number of occasions that we would not be getting a house with stairs. Now how am I supposed to get my cardio?

Whatever. I'm tired. I'm off to take a nap with Karen's dad.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

My Former Town Mondays (Hopefully)

I have a little trivia contest for you guys:




The picture above I got off of the Houston Association of Realtors (HAR) website. It is the home of the one and only celebrity (other than me, of course) who lives in my hopefully former zip code.

Do you know whose house it is? It is a waterfront monstrosity is on 3.4 acres and the house itself is 19,560 square feet (actually I think that's the total of the entire compound, which consists of three houses, but whatever). There are clues in the picture which will give you the identity of the owner. The asking price is 4.4 million.

Anyway, leave your answers on the comments page. The winner gets a "You are No Ordinary Cat" award, under the normal stipulations, of course.

So get working on this my friends.

I'll get back with you later on in the week.

Go 'Stros

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

"I looked for an answer to my question. But reason could not give me an answer-reason is incommensurable with the question."

Things to Do at Three in the Morning
We've been watching the Olympics all week. Being purists, Karen, Sadie, and I prefer to watch the games live, as opposed to the tape delays during waking hours.

You know what I think is way cool: the world record line in swimming. I'm totally fascinated with that.

World Politics
This whole Russian thing is interesting:

A. Because the world seems somewhat shocked that a former KGB agent would have no qualms invading a democratically governed country.

B. That ole Putin is hanging out at the Olympics, which is just ironic.

C. That the French brokered cease fire was a bust.

Why is any of this a shocker to anyone???

The Bachelor Meets the Bachelorette
Karen and I were listening to Rush Limbaugh when he mentioned something about a study which mentioned that most women are uninformed until they got married at which time they developed more political interests, thus gaining information from their spouses.

Karen and I discussed this. Her response was she saw a study once that suggested that men are more drawn towards antisocial behavior until they get married, at which time dudes begin to straighten up.

So by Karen's logic, if she's uninformed because she's unmarried, Mr. Limbaugh is drawn towards neerdowell behavior because he is a bachelor.

This is code for Karen thinks Mr. Limbaugh is a dumb ass.

Other Things
I am working on another episode of Masterass Theater based upon the antics of John Edwards refusing to leave the men's restroom because reporters were accosting him at the door.

Is this in bad taste?

OK, probably it is in bad taste. Let me ask you this then:

Do you want me to publish it when I finish, or would you be offended?

I, the awesome and all knowing cat, would hate to offend the readers. However, if you've been reading this blog for any length of time, I don't think you offend too easily. I mean last week I wrote about sex toys which disappeared from the HPD evidence storage, for crying out loud. I'm guessing you people have pretty solid constitutions.

As always, let me know your thoughts.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Victoria Osteen Gave Me Hemorrhoids

I found some awesome stuff this week in the newspaper this week. None of which has to do with John Edwards.

Let's face it: is anyone in total shock over this? I always thought ole John with his $400 hair cut was a little creepy.

I'm curious about what The Enquirer is holding over his head, which would merit a confession after denying the relationship for so long.

Anyway . . .


Crazy Story Number One: Victoria and the Flight Attendant

I totally love this.

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/front/5930118.html

I have a plan:

Every time someone acts the even the slightest bit obnoxious towards me I'm so calling a lawyer and suing over hemorrhoids.

How are they going to prove otherwise? Nobody wants to question hemorrhoids.

Seriously though, nobody needs to get rich off of Osteen's histrionics. My concern with suing the wife of the smiling preacher is that she would appear to be the victim.

I don't think I want the world to perceive her as a victim.

Besides, despite the whole concept of "it's easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God" thing, the Osteens have found a way to hire lawyer extraordinaire Rusty "I am Arthur Anderson" Hardin. You know, the same attorney who went nose to nose with the mind of a generation, Anna Nicole Smith.

I don't think you can win a frivolous lawsuit against ole Rusty. The dude is mean. He doesn't mind bringing up uncomfortable information like getting drunk on a plane wearing a half million dollars worth of jewelry and then passing out, only to awake with no jewels.

That's Anna Nicole, not Victoria Osteen.

It'll be interesting to see how all this pans out.

Issue Number Two: The Case of the Missing Sex Toys

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/front/5930980.html

So . . . what are your thoughts? I ain't buying this whole "destroyed" excuse.

But my readers who are nonTexans are probably a little dumbfounded at the moment.

Is it a problem to sell "marital aides" in Texas?

Yes, up until February 13, 2008, apparently.

A little background on this sudden concern regarding the "female tension releaver":

http://www.cnn.com/2004/LAW/02/11/obscenity.trial.reut/

Now, let me tell you how we know about this:

In the spring of 2004, Karen was teaching a journalism class. They were learning about editorials and she had the kids research a controversial issue (of their choosing-- no this was not on the list) and then write an editorial based upon conclusions drawn from their readings. Most of the kids picked the typical teenage topics: legalizing pot, lowering the drinking age, some random environmental issue, abortion, condom machines in the restrooms at school, mandated school prayer (this is Texas, people), etc. So anyway, Karen is reading these very predictable (and mostly pretty bad) editorials and she runs across, low and behold:

Texas Doesn't Toy with Sex

She had to give the kid an A just for originality.

Guess What???

We got a contract on the house. Cross your fingers, dudes.