I Crap In a Box

I'm Maddie, a fabulous foul-mouthed Calico from Washington, D.C. I sleep, whine and poop a lot. Swearing like a sailor and vomiting like a supermodel round out my typical day. Tormenting my sister also warms my heart!

Monday, November 29, 2004

Santa, can you hear me?

OMG, they made this for me!

I'll let Mommy borrow it for when she's driving, too -- it'd be like having me in the car with her!

The short & curlies

Subtitle: Transporting dingleberries

Mommy says I remind her of "Eric Cartman" from "South Park" with my indignance. But Oh. My. God. If I could maneuver my enormous clawless paws on her tiny stupid-ass little Nokia cell phone, then I'd be calling Cat Protective Services.

What did she do, you ask? It's her monthly ritual to wash my ass and trim the long fur around my anus. Because, of course, my shit sticks to the long fur and it doesn't come off by wiping it on the rug alone.

Today, as Mommy was barfing up her breakfast of coffee into her mouth as I howled in horror, she said she never really realized that the fur along the back of my legs was curly -- she'd just thought it was shorter than my regular mass-o-Calico-lovin'. But alas, she was snickering to herself that she had me by the short and curlies ... that is, till she cut off all my anal fur so I won't be able to transport my dingleberries around the house anymore. Asshole!

Thursday, November 25, 2004


Subtitle: I crap in a hallway

Everybody in the house is high and delirious from the fumes from the Glade Cinnamon Sticks scented spray that Mommy nuked the house with just now. She is very upset with me because I crapped in the bathroom ... just not mine.

Mommy graciously changed our litterbox today -- Grandma had sent her money to buy me turkey with, but she spent it on litter 'cause our booties were stankin' something fierce. And she decided to move the box next to an electrical outlet so that it would be near a plug-in air freshener.

Well, I knew it was moved, but I thought it was time for me to learn how to use the big-girl litterbox. Problem is, I didn't make it that far. So I took a luxuriously steaming shit-of-a-lifetime in the doorway just outside the bathroom. And I made sure to do it on the carpet so that I could wipe my butt immediately after I finished my business.

Mommy was on the phone with Grandma, and she was gagging up her 39-cent burrito that she had for Thanksgiving dinner tonight because she's poor (although said burrito might just make Mommy crap in the same spot, too! Mommy might just feel guilty later on that she was so mean to me. Bitch). She speedily cleaned up the crap and Grandma got sick just listening to her throw up her burrito in her mouth as she treated the stain.

Speaking of stains, I gave Mommy the ultimate Hershey kiss this morning. She was lying on the couch, with her usual vacant stare on her face, and I decided to curl up in the crook of her arm. Mommy told me I stunk (stupid bitch) but let me lie there for awhile. Finally, I got bored and wanted to see if some food might have appeared in my Garfield porcelain dish (it hadn't), and Mommy complained that she could still smell me. She lay there for awhile before noticing that the reason she still smelled my shitty ass was because I had left a big wet shit print on the inside of her elbow. Hah! Maddie's kisses are the kind that keep on giving!

I was very upset that she ran into the shower to wash off my kiss. Dumb cunt. I give her so many gifts of shit and more shit, yet she gets so fucking apeshit. I imagine if she would just shit more herself, then she would understand the joy it brings. Perhaps she is merely jealous of my bountiful bowels.

Friday, November 19, 2004

Flying trapeze

Holy shit, I had to take a break from snarfing up my breakfast to bring you breaking news. I swear, chunks of Cat Chow (cheap, dry-ass shit -- thanks Mommy for being poor and feeding me that crap!) nearly flew outta my delicate little nose from laughing at Kadi.

Ah, Kadi.

Kadi was crouched in the kitchen doorway, her butt up in the air. She was poised to jump at me and attack me. She's been evil lately, more so than usual. I think she really wants a tomcat. (I don't know why, as they only want one thing, and then you have to take them on "Maury Povich" to prove they sired your litter, and half of those skanky pussies don't even know which tomcat planted the fertile seed of their brood. But whatever.)

In any event, Kadi was poised to pounce. But then something funny happened.

Mommy did not see Kadi when she opened up the refrigerator door to get her coffee beans. So, when she opened the fridge door -- *BAM* -- it whacked Kadi's butt and sent her flying!

Oh. My. GOD -- I was thrilled! The door hit her square on her ass, and Kadi did a flying arc through the dining room. And for that, I say:

Bag of Cat Chow: $8
Porcelain Garfield Food Dish: $10
Kadi Going Ass Over Teacups: PRICELESS!!!

Thursday, November 18, 2004

Hot in herrre

It's been unseasonably bearable in the Washington, D.C., region lately. And we really would enjoy it if Mommy would open the sliding glass door to the balcony. But she can't. Last time it was open, Kadi massacred the screen and played outside all day till Mommy got home. And Mommy never fixed the screen -- she bought a screen repair kit, but she returned it because she needed the money to buy us food.

Anyway, Kadi is meowing up a windstorm, begging Mommy to be ever so kind as to get fresh air in here (I guess I should admit that, for the past two mornings, I've pooped in Kadi's kitty bed. She never uses it anyway. But I like to show my opinion of her whenever possible!) Mommy insists we just have to breathe in the fumes because she can't open the door without Kadi running out again. Bitch. She gets to go outside and get fresh air! Why can't I?

Sunday, November 14, 2004

I think I'm in love

My loving aunt found a tomcat for me! His name is Keith the Cat. He poops even more than I do, which makes me just absolutely worship him because being able to poop in front of each other is very important in a relationship.

Keith's owner feeds him prunes, though. I don't know if I would like prunes. Perhaps Mommy should buy some and sample them for me. Lord knows that, after she quit smoking, she's just not using her human litterbox as much as she used to. But she's full of shit in so many other ways, so I guess that's OK, too. ;) In any event, I will be careful when asking for treats again, because I don't want any shriveled surprises -- I'm the only one who can provide those in this house!

Thursday, November 11, 2004


Grandma sent us treats in the mail last night. When Mommy opened up the little box, there was a lovely jar of Aquari-Yums (the moist ones!), and Grandma had even put a big pumpkin sticker on the lid. It was our Halloween present!

But did we get any of said treats yet? Oh, hell no. Kadi was being bad and really mauled Mommy something fierce, so the bitch wasn't in any mood to feed us treats. Normally, she will at least sneak me a couple because I am good. But Mommy was mad at me because I pooped on the hallway carpet instead of in the box and stunk up the house.

If only I had thumbs, I could open that damn jar myself! I am lying on the couch, looking at it ever so longingly. ...

Sunday, November 07, 2004

Soggy ass

Having a smaller litterbox (but still one with a lid) just means that it gets stinkier, faster. Hooray. Fuck this crap.

I took a shit beside Pooh Corner because Mommy hasn't scooped it since yesterday. With the bigger box, she could let it go for two days before I would protest, but holy shit, I get seasick when I go in there after Kadi's rancid ass erupts.

But wait, it gets better!

Mommy was typing at the computer last night, doing drunken blogging with the other fine folks at The People's Republic of Aimless Chatter. She'd had about four cosmos and three martinis when I jumped up on her lap. This is always a feat for me, because I am a lot of kitty and I usually wound Mommy in some way.

Well, last night was no different. I had taken a lovely steamy poop and had not yet seen fit to wipe my ass on the rug when I jumped up and parked my ass on Mommy. She went to pet me and -- guess what? -- she got a handful of wet kitty shit on her hand! HAH! It was like a big shitty kiss from Maddie -- *mwah*!!!

Don't you wish you had a kitty like me to bring such adventure into your life?

In any event, I do not think Mommy will ever complain about me wiping my ass on the carpet again -- she very much prefers scrubbing stains to having to disinfect her typing hand while she's typing!

Friday, November 05, 2004

'The rug is my canvas'

Even though we just got a big, bad luxury litterbox several months ago, Mommy took her last $10 and went to buy us a smaller, economy-sized one. But no matter -- it's NEW!!! The last one was stinkin' pretty bad -- I'm not sure why, as I usually poop outside the box because I want everybody to admire what I produce. It's like my art, and the rug is my canvas.

Not much happening here. Mommy has officially gone broke, although we did manage to live OK without her having a real job for a few months. She had to take her next-to-last $20 to replace the screen door to the balcony because Kadi got outside when Mommy was like five cities away.

Since Mommy's home a lot now, she's writing a novel. I thought that was a splendid idea, and I started mine as well. Maybe my book, "All About My Ass" will sell lots of copies and I will be able to afford Fancy Feast instead of that dry Cat Chow shit Mommy is feeding us because it's all she was able to afford!