these are a few of my favorite things

1.) Food. Soft food is my favorite thing, really. Those humans complain about the smell; but i think its absolutely delectable. The pellet food is ok, especially if there's nothing else offered. Lately the humans have started putting the food in a plastic ball. Apparently, it's intent is to ration my food for me as I seem to be deficit in cutting myself off, a problem that often leads to some gastric reflux.
2.) Tuna. Tuna gets a status all on its own. There's nothing I love more than hearing the clang of a can opener on a can of tuna. I have a sneaking suspicion that the humans eat an awful lot of tuna that they don't share with me. They tell me to "relax, it's not tuna." Do they think i was just born yesterday, those greedy buggers?
3.) Treats. Apparently the blonde human attests that they're good for my teeth. I attest to the fact that they're delicious. I'm even willing to prance along the couch to get them. mmmmm...treats.
3.) Waking people up unnecessarily. Hilarious. People can get seriously upset when woken up for no reason. My tactic of choice is to walk on hair that is strewn across a pillow. This is followed closely by screaming right at who-ever-is-sleeping's face. I often do this in a high pitched whiney voice.
4.) Sleeping. Obviously. NO brainer. Who the hell doesn't love to nap. I have a couple favorite places, but more on that later.
5.) Suntanning. If it wasn't for that blasted raccoon. He stinks. And he tries to eat my food. Bastard. (See numbers 1-3).
6.) Catnip. It must be good, if i'm willing to lick that dry ball of fabric for it.
7.) Modeling. Damn I look good.
8.) The occasional trip down the hall. This one time, some nice lady down the hall fed me all night. Sweet find. I went down the stairs once and the blonde one carried me all the way back up. Silly. I would have come home; they feed me. (agian, see numbers 1-3).

hmmm...nap time

TV tirade

I hid the remote from the humans the other day. I've decided to call them the humans out of respect for my real parents; they were young and couldn't really raise all eight of us. Anyways, I hid the remote for the t.v. under my pillow and man, you should've seen them freak out. It's like they couldn't live without it, freaks. So after a half hour of frantic searching and cursing they find the thing and here we go again- same old, same old. I don't even know why they bother with all the four hundred channels they get when they really only use four. After trying to ignore the stupid noisy picture box I've started to notice a few things:
That English guy who cooks and swears, I think his name is Gordon Ramseed, he's quite a prick but I think he can't help himself and most of the time he's right on.
There's this show, Planet Earth, lots of furry freaks and some HOT felines...MEE-freakin'-OW..
I hate it when the blonde human wants to watch The National... zzzzzz, pillow please.
George Strombolopolus... nice name pal... he's a bit of a tool
Hockey rocks, but the smelly feet human has this loser team that never gets as happy as the other team... and what's with the freak in the jackets that make my sleepy blanket look sharp?
Survivor Man wouldn't stand a chance if I was out there and hungry. I agree though that plants taste awful and can make you puke.
Reality Shows? I mean really people. Maybe you should have a close look at your own lame reality.
Well, smelly feet's got the reggae on and the blonde one is playing with dirt again. They've put the laser beams on, but there seems to be a steady supply of food around so I'm good. Except they put my food in some goddam plastic ball, but that's another story. I'm outta here.

Laser Beams

My parents suck. First of all they're not really my parents. I call them that because they look after me, feed me, clean out my shit station, open the big glass door and all that jazz. But they are humans. My cat parents abandoned me when I was little and I ended up with Mom when I was about 5 weeks old in human time. Anyways, laser beams. Let me explain. My folks think I sleep too much so they've rigged the staircase with these freakin' elastic bands so I've either got to do some damn limbo to get under them, which is near impossible, or leap three steps up and I'm not exactly in top physical condition if you get my drift. So they shake the treat bag which puts me into a hypnotic trance and I end up downstairs and wolf back the treats and BOOM! there's the freakin' laser beams. I don't know why they call them laser beams. They smoke pot now and then. I'll try and get a picture and post it. Later.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

I woke up and yakked. Well, I guess I had it coming to me. I ate half a ball before I crashed, then my Dad put some treats up on the tight-rope couch and I really should have stayed in bed. Anyways, it's Sunday and it's raining out so I'm gonna go back to bed. No laser beams so far. More on that later.