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.

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

"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.

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.