I am the Elizabeth Taylor of the feline world.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

What's in a name???

I know I haven't been around much lately. I hope all is going well with you. It's been a busy week with napping and grooming. Karen has been cleaning out closets and working on a myriad of projects at home to make our house quite "buyer friendly".

I've been meaning to tell you guys about this for months. It's totally awesome:

In the 23rd U.S. Congressional District, better knows as Tom Delay's old stomping ground, ten Republicans candidates are vying for the opportunity to run against Democrat Nick Lampson in the November election.

This is not particularly newsworthy, as a kajillion other congressional districts across the United States are in the same position. However, the 23rd has one really cool candidate:

(Excuse the picture quality-- I had Karen take this picture using her cell phone in the rain. It's a bumper sticker on the back of a car parked outside Barnes and Noble.)

I have nothing against Mr. Manlove. I've never heard an inkling of anything good or bad about him (he used to be the mayor of a neighboring city near Karen's parents). However, he's running for congress with a last name that is instant fodder for The Daily Show.

Yes, I am aware of how adolescent it is for me to find this so funny. "Manlove" is a perfectly reasonable last name. I should accept Manlove and embrace him as a successful politician and businessman.

I can't help it; Manlove rocks.

If Mr. Manlove wins, he better steer clear of any and all scandals. Spitzer was bad enough. Can you imagine the same scenario with "Manlove"???

Can you imagine any scenario with Manlove in which headlines wouldn't be awesome?

If I keep saying "Manlove" do you think my Google hit number with make a significant jump???


Other Issues:

Operation Chaos:

Is this real?

What is the point?

Should I be offended by this? I'm not-- truthfully, I think it's one of the funnier things I've heard in a while. Does that make me a horrible cat?

If Rush Limbaugh goes to jail for election tampering, inciting a riot, contributing to the delinquency of minors, insider trading, or anything else, I'd like to be his replacement on the radio. You, my readers, are in charge of taking care of this. Start making those phone calls.

Crazy Ministers

Anyone want to lay bets as to who released the tape?

I'm bored of this story. But I'm seeing no one making an attempt to trace the origin of the tape, which to me is far more interesting.

Once again, the idiot yahoo members of the media are totally getting it wrong.


Karen is a TOOL

For many years, we've prided ourselves in the fact that we do not watch American Idol. Well, Karen did Wednesday night (was that Wednesday-- maybe it was Tuesday-- whatever).

At least we don't watch America's Next Top Model.

We do occasionally catch Meet the Kardashians though.

OK, we're just like every other crap for brains American. Get over it.

But that's not the point.

Anyway, one of the contestants sang Karen's favorite Police song: Every Breath You Take. This is fine except the singer totally didn't get the song. She got the beauty of it and the concept of consuming, overwhelming, I can't live without you, love. What she didn't get was this song is also about a freakin' stalker.

It's interesting how that song becomes lame without the haunting element. Ole Sting totally knows what he's doing.

If you'd like to go back to 1983, here's a link to the music video, from a time when Music Television was actually Music Television.


Otherwise, I'm outa here. We got the end of preseason baseball to watch.

Go 'Stros

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

If You Don't Go to Class . . .

OK, I know I told you guys that I wouldn't speak anymore of this soap opera out of Albany, but I couldn't help myself today:


New Yorkers: Can you Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaase elect someone, anyone, who can stay off The Daily Show for 24 hours after taking office?

But that's beside the point . . .

Politicians are always saying how hard they work for you, the taxpaying yahoos of the world. They spend all these long hours making our world a better place blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. . .

My question is this: if they are sooooooooo busy working for the "common man", how do they find the time to, how shall I put it, DIDDLE OTHERS WHO ARE NOT LEGALLY/ SOCIALLY OBLIGATED TO DIDDLE THEM???

Are these elected officials just really high energy? Or is this working eighteen hour days thing just a myth?

Just 48 hours ago I was planning on writing this nice little uplifting piece about Paterson and how wonderful it is that a man who for all intents and purposes is blind could overcome and achieve a law degree and a high ranking political position.

Thank goodness I took the low road and created an awesome episode of Masterass Theater.

And more to contribute to my jadedness . . .

Karen's friend Jenny sent her this link. Since I read Karen's email (don't tell her-- I just change everything back to "new" and she's totally clueless), I thought you guys would be interested in this as well:


Perhaps if congressional representatives would, I don't know, SHOW UP, they could actually VOTE. Don't give me that crap about pee breaks. Teachers have learned survive the majority of a day without leaving a room full of goofy sixteen-year-old unattended-- I can't imagine that congress people have it any worse off. From what I see, both nationally and in Texas, the issue is not pee breaks-- it's truancy.

I challenge you to look up your state and national congressional representatives. You will be shocked to find out their attendance records.

These yahoos don't show up to work.

To get a pee break one should show up to work don'tcha think???

Granted, I can't stand the state congressional representatives in my neck of the woods. Karen wrote them two letters and received two preachy responses in return (both probably written by interns-- whatever). But nevertheless, the constituents of redneck Hell did elect them, so they damn well better be showing up and voting.

And if they don't???

I don't know-- it's not like I can vote. And even if I could vote, apparently I'm outnumbered by rednecks.


Sunday, March 16, 2008

I was a 22-year-old Sex Worker

I need to explain my headline.

No, I was never a 22-year-old sex worker. First of all, I'm a cat and the word "worker" really should not be associated with our species, as it just isn't accurate. Furthermore, I'm not yet seven. Also, I've been spade since before I was a year (thank you, Karen-- you'll get yours when I succeed in my efforts towards world domination).

I'm mainly using this headline in hopes to get more Google hits. Pretty smart, right???

I know I've been gone for over a week. It's a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions, I am quite aware. But once again, I'm a cat and between the grooming and napping I've just been quite busy.

Alas, I know you guys miss me tremendously and wait with baited breath for my observations and guidance in your daily life. For this reason, I am adding a new feature to the blog:

Dear Penelope

Anyway, if you have a serious issues in which you need sophisticated guidance, send me an email (
penelopeandsadie@aol.com) and I will address it in the blog at some point.

And yes, I will protect you anonymity and give you a nickname. No, you don't get to choose it. I do, as this is my blog and as I've said before I will do whatever I damn well please here.

Anyway . . .

My staff and I have been quite occupied with the Eliot Spitzer drama, which I'm sure is not particularly surprising to anyone. We've also been trying to figure out a way to address it as well.

We've decided the best thing to do was to have another episode of . . .

Masterass Theater
The 24- Hour News Station

Scene: Staff meeting at a 24 hour news station.

JACK ISHOULDN'THAVESMOKEDSOMUCHINTHESEVENTIES, NEWS EDITOR: OK, so how are we going to cover this Spitzer press conference?

STUART IWANNAGOBACKTONPR, REPORTER: We've got seats six and seven on row three.

JACK: Great

TIM GOODHAIR, ANCHOR: I'm going to interview a law professor from Columbia directly thereafter regarding analysis.

JACK: Sounds good. Anything else?

STEVE SENDMEBACKTOIRAQ, Reporter: We're going to follow Spitzer's car from where he's staying tonight to the press conference. Tim and I are going to go back and forth regarding what I'm seeing.

JACK: (beginning to look confused) And what do you think you'll see?

STEVE: (screaming-- waving his arms all around) Man, you don't know what we'll see. He could be tire bombed right on Fifth Avenue. If we don't follow we'll miss the story--

JACK: OK, OK, so you're following Spitzer's car. Fine, is that it?

GINGER AGINGFORMERMISSAMERICA, ANCHOR: And I'm going to analyze Mrs. Spitzer's wardrobe, with help from Michael Kohrs.

JACK: (pulling a cigarette package from his coat pocket) What?

BRAD I'DRATHERBEWORKINGFORFREEONTHEVIEW, INTERN: The guys upstairs are concerned we aren't meeting the needs of the viewers who accidentally hit our station when meaning to watch E!. They want us to keep them.

JACK: Well then, by all means, let's definitely keep those E! viewers. Let's be nice though, OK?

GINGER: Of course

JACK: Anything else?

CINDY LOSTINROUNDTWOONAMERICANIDOLGOTIMPLANTSBECAME"METEOROLOGIST": I'm interviewing three sex workers from a call girl service.

JACK: (pulling cigarette out of package, looking for lighter) What? Since when do we have hookers on the morning news?

CINDY: (slightly indignant) They aren't "hookers". They're sex workers.

JACK: (desperately looking for his lighter in coat pocket) What's the difference?

CINDY: It isn't PC to say "hooker".

JACK: (complexion slightly flushed-- still looking desperately for lighter-- now in pants pocket) OK, so now we're going to interview SEX WORKERS. And what should we be asking these SEX WORKERS.

BRAD: (handing Jack a box of nicotine gum) You can't smoke in here.

(Jack glares at Brad and places cigarette back in pack and back in coat pocket.)

CINDY: (leaning across the table towards Jack, exposing a great deal of cleavage) I'm taking them to the Mayflower. We're going to sit in the very room that Spitzer used and discuss their plight.

JACK: (slightly distracted by cleavage) What is their plight?

GINGER: (under her breath) That Cindy doesn't get more air time to wear shorter skirts.

CINDY: Excuse me?


CINDY: What did you say?

GINGER: (chin rises slightly) I just don't see the validity of taking a group of common prostitutes to a hotel which charges upwards of a $1,000 a night. What purpose does it serve?

CINDY: What purpose does it serve to spend news minutes on the suit choices of the virtually unknown governor's wife?

JACK: (popping a piece of nicotine gum into his mouth) OK LADIES, let's stay on topic. Cindy, keep your story brief and appropriate and make sure everyone is dressed for morning news. Do you understand what I mean?

(Ginger snorts. Both Cindy and Jack glare at her.)

CINDY: Of course

JACK: (taking a swig of coffee) Anything else?

RYAN THISISWHYIPLAYEDBASEBALLANDDIDN'TRUNFORGOVERNOR, Sports Anchor: We've got a segment in sports in which I'm interviewing a madam-- uh, sex worker supervisor.

JACK: (reaching for cigarettes-- pulls out a flask instead) Why, in sports, are we interviewing a madam?

CINDY: Sex worker supervisor

JACK: Sex worker supervisor

RYAN: We're doing a story regarding the athleticism required by sex workers and the injuries they suffer. (Jack pours substance from flask in coffee.)

JACK: (taking a swig of coffee) I'm not sure it'll get past the censors.

RYAN: That's what I thought. But evidently, the sex workers have kind of an informal union--

JACK: Hold on. The hookers can't be unionized. It's an illegal profession.

RYAN: That's why it's an informal union.

JACK: An informal union?

RYAN: An informal union

JACK: So you're telling me that since the hookers--

CINDY: Sex Workers

JACK: You're telling me that since the sex workers are informally unionized, that standards and practices are OK with you talking about sex positions and possible injuries?

RYAN: This is cable news, Jack

(Jack doesn't know what to say. So he pours more liquid from the flask into his coffee mug.)

JACK: OK, let me talk with the guys upstairs. Ryan, I'll get back with you. So that's it, right.



PAUL: Now Jack, you didn't go ballistic when Ryan proposed his story. I expect the same courtesy as well.

JACK: I'm sorry, Paul. Tell me, what is finances take on the Spitzer story.

PAUL: Well, we are interviewing a pimp-- ah, male sex worker supervisor, to discuss the tricks of the trade in running a high end escort service.

JACK: And I assume this too has gone through standards and practices with flying colors.

PAUL: I haven't even tried. Actually, I just got wind of what sports was doing and I felt like finance needed to do something as well.

JACK: Oh Lord. (Jack drinks from his flask directly)

CINDY:(turning to Paul) I think your stories are sexist.

PAUL: And why is that?

CINDY: Because you're talking finance with a male.

(Jack rolls his eyes and takes another swig.)


CINDY: Why not a female?

PAUL: Because you guys are interviewing females. I wanted a male point of view.

CINDY: To discuss finances.

PAUL: Well, Ryan chose not to interview men in his story, as did you as well, so I picked a guy, yes.

RYAN: I couldn't choose a man. Who wants to hear a bunch of guys talk about sex positions and injuries? I know I don't.

PAUL: Me either.

CINDY: It's still sexist.

(Brad's cell phone rings)

BRAD: Jack--

JACK: Yes Brad?

BRAD: We need to change our focus. Britney Spears is headed to Mexico with two Enquirer photographers, a seventeen- year- old USC freshman, two porn stars, Dog the Bounty Hunter, Gene Simmons, and a goat.

JACK: A goat?

BRAD: A goat

(A silence falls over the room.)


TIM: Let's find a psychologist to analyze her behavior.

GINGER: I'll interview Madonna and see what she thinks about all of this.

CINDY: Let's get some reaction from the pornography community.

RYAN: I wonder if steroids are involved.

BRAD: I'll start making plane reservations.

(Jack throws the box of nicotine gum at Steve. Everyone else just looks at Jack as if he were nuts as Jack storms out of the room.)

STUART: Guys, but don't forget. The press conference is at nine tomorrow morning.


And that is all I have to say about Spitzergate.

Now I am tired. I am off to take a nap.

Go 'Stros

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Annie Show Your Bra Off

Today I am writing about the mall.

This is quite difficult, as I am a cat and have never been to the mall.

However, I hear about this mall place constantly. Karen goes there often, as do her friends. From what I gather, the mall is this place where people buy stuff. Kind of like eBay, but more social and the parking is abysmal.

I've seen this mall place on CNN before. Evidently it's pretty happening.

Personally, I have no desire to go to the mall. I am a celebrity and don't want to be mauled by hordes of screaming fans. I've seen this happen to other celebrities on E! News and it's very disconcerting.

When you are as famous as I am, it pays to take precautions.

Anyway . . .

Karen was telling me about these girls she saw at the mall. Evidently it is now a fashion trend to wear a tight white t shirt with a brightly colored bra.

So basically, these gals are announcing to the world the following:

1. Yes, I wear a bra.

2. Yes, I am a skank.

3. If I'm not a skank, I did not look in the mirror this morning after dressing. Therefore, I am an idiot.

4. I got boobs.

Truthfully, I have no qualms with nudity per say. After all, I spend most days wearing nothing at all and things seem to work out for me just fine, thank you much. But isn't underwear just that-- underwear??? What's the point of showing it off???

Any thoughts???

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Norwegian Terrorists

Dudes, is this not exciting or what???

The next leader of the free world might be determined by TEXANS.

That's right, Iowans. The power is back to the people.

Anyway, I am a cat and it seems I am not allowed to vote (bastard Americans, so closed minded). Regardless, I have some opinions and I feel a need to express them.

Who Do You Want to Take that Three A.M. Phone Call???

Let's start with the obvious: if you were married to Bill "depends on your definition of is" Clinton, your phone might be ringing a little more often in the middle of the night, too. Think about it. You're the new leader of the free world and a total eager beaver, ready for anything. Low and behold the red phone rings at three am.


"Hi, this is Crystal from Scores. Bill left his wallet at the club. Just tell him to call my cell."

Don't get me wrong, I don't have any serious bones against the better half of HillBilly. I'm just saying that the commercial is a little dramatic and I immediately went to thoughts of former President Clinton receiving "top secret" phone calls regarding "serious security issues" pretty frequently, if you know what I mean.

Although the question is provoking: who do you want to answer that super important top secret phone call at three in the morning?

I can tell who shouldn't have this job: Karen.

Sadie and I, again, are cats. Sometimes, after a long day of sleeping, we like to let loose in the evening, or sometime after midnight. We eat, drink, socialize. Sometimes we have guests who just appear in the backyard, ready for some partying as well. Occasionally, things get a little wild and Sadie starts hissing and freaking at our backyard guests, and sometimes something like the garbage can in the kitchen gets knocked over. Karen has no patience for the commotion and starts freaking out.

That isn't particularly "presidential" behavior after all.

Now consider this: the President of France is calling to inform Karen, leader of the free world in this scenario, that his country has been invaded by a bunch of Norwegian terrorists. As we all know, Nordic terrorists are not going to invade during the middle of the afternoon. So as the French are sleeping (or taking a cigarette break) those crazy Nordes come in, bringing with them legalized drugs, but no weapons, as again, these are northern Europeans and not Texans.

And President Karen gets the call right smack dab in the middle of the night.

It would not be an attractive conversation. Karen is very mean spirited when you interrupt her sleep. She'd make a nasty comment, regarding World War II and "speaking German", if you know what I mean.

And now, we have an international incident, involving the French, Norwegian terrorists, possibly some hallucinogenics, and President Karen throwing out sixty- year- old war bitterness.

What a wholly mess.

Anyway . . .

Did you know that in Texas, the infamous exit level English/ Language Arts test was delayed a day so that schools, frequent polling places, wouldn't have to deal with both the dramatics of testing and crazy freakin' voters.

Anyway, wish the children good luck tomorrow. We want them to pass their exit test, graduate from high school, go to college and get good jobs because, not surprisingly, I'm not supporting them.

Go 'Stros.

Saturday, March 1, 2008

Dawn is One Fabulous Cat

What a week.

Karen is still crying over George Clooney's loss at the Academy Awards. I tried to console her with the idea that it really didn't matter since she most likely would not be meeting Mr. Clooney anytime soon.

I also tried to remind her that Daniel Day Lewis was almost as equally attractive, but she didn't care about this either.


I can only deal with ridiculous for so long. Now I need to move on to more important things.

Like me and my award.

Anyway . . .

Dawn is back (link to the right).

If you don't know Dawn, she is a fabulous New Zealand writer. We love Dawn for a myriad of reasons, one being that she was the first person who wasn't one of Karen's insane acquaintances or relatives to post comments on the blog. Dawn knows pure genius when confronted with it, I'll tell you that.

Ripples on the Lake is a best seller in Australia. Although the title isn't available on Amazon in America, one can order it via booktopia.com, which ships internationally.

Anyway, I told you guys that Dawn is back, which infers that Dawn was gone for a while. It seems that ole Dawn is one busy lady, raising dogs (God forbid-- we'll forgive her that one), writing, and working on developing an Internet business.

Now Dawn has a little more free time, so she plans to rejoin us more often in cyberland.

To welcome back our prodigal daughter, I am awarding Dawn the "No Ordinary Cat" Award. Since Dawn has been absent, let me remind her of the rules:

1. You must post the award.

2. You must write or plagiarize an acceptance speech.

3. DO NOT send me your first born child, as I am too busy napping and grooming to raise such a creature.

Anyway, we are very glad to see Dawn back.

Other things my team of researchers are working this week:

1. Primary Crap
2. Liars, Statistics, and the Crap We Call Professional Sports
3. What the Crap are People Wearing to the Mall these Days???
4. Crappy World Series Predictions

Any other crap we should discuss???