REJOICE!
It’s the best day of the year for me.
BLESSED BE
In consideration of this celebration, I’ve compiled several resources to help you and your feline friend get the most out of your day:
Tag Archives: tabby cats
The tears of an angel
The mighty Liono’s history is a mysterious one. And part of that mystery is how a former farm cat came into such wimpy vocal chords.
Behold the mighty and mightily pathetic roar of a imploring feline desperate to make friends with the maintenance man outside:
The soothing timbre of Liono
To help you get through your day here is a sound recording of Liono’s unbelievably loud snoring.
Now everyone feels better.
The hows and whys that involve me buying frozen vegetables
It’s a very special day in a young woman’s life when she gets to explain to people that the black eye that she is sporting is because an overweight cat jumped on her face while she was sleeping.
This will make the boys come a-runnin’
I would love to claim that this was the first time that I was bruised because of my cat. But, of course, that wouldn’t be true.
And I would be lying if I didn’t say I was mildly concerned about what Liono’s actual motives are these days.
I’m coming for you
A very special You Life: George’s eulogy.
Yesterday, on Christmas, I spent an entire day on the train traveling back to my apartment. I purchased myself some holiday PBRs and got ready to have a full blown solo Christmas pity party. All of my intentions were focused on feeling totally sorry for myself because I was spending Christmas alone. However, George had other plans.
His plan?
Dying
This is exactly how he wanted to go, on Christmas: a day usually reserved for family, and happiness, and joy. Those are all of the things that he hates and stands against. Misery? Pain? Mournful tunes on the banjo? The last chapter of Oil? Ruining gift giving holidays? George knew that those were the real simple pleasures in life.
And, obviously, hating you. That was another of his favorite things.
Except, of course, there is more pleasure in dying. So, after a hundred and fifty thousand years of life George went to meet him maker.
I think we all know who George’s maker is
And I, for one, will miss the ever loving shit out of that miserable cranky cat bastard. And, while his cold dead body rests in the space heater box in my living room while I am at work (HE WOULD HAVE WANTED IT THAT WAY DON’T JUDGE ME), later on I will be memorializing him in the best way possible: playing The Ballad of Georgie on the ukulele and whiskey drankin’.
Bye, littlest evil.
Enter the psyche of my cats: Part III (yup, now there is a part three)
Have you ever met someone so crazy and obsessive about things that you aren’t entirely sure that they haven’t escaped a mental hospital? They say yes to everything? They’re enthusiasm is terrifying?
they are not so secretly obsessed with trying to become a member of the Loving Spoonful?
I never want to miss out on an opportunity to say “yes,” additionally I was always obsessed with the movie Rock-A-Doodle. After watching the most brilliant of Don Bleuth movies I knew I had wanted a pet that looked just like Chanticleer the rooster.
Who the hell wouldn’t?
But I didn’t actually want a rooster. What was the second best option? No, not a pet chicken…This is when my obsession with naked cats began, because they look like store-bought uncooked chickens. So, when a friend was moving and needed to find his Sphinx cat a home, I said yes. Instantly. I now have a new cat. She looks a cross between a scrotum, an uncooked chicken, ET, and a raptor.
clever girl…
She reminds me of Easy Mac and feels like a warm peach.
Currently she is reigning terror on the Orange and White Boys ™
