Shit burrs and poop pouches

Life's been shit as usual 'round here, although I have been lucky in that it has been quite some time since Mommy washed my ass and kneeled over me and shorn the long fur from around my asshole.

Well, ring around the asshole indeed -- last night was the night. Seriously, we need to get her a date because a single woman of (*cough cough* over *cough cough*) 30 should be havin' somebody else playin' with HER ass!

Ahem.

In any event, Mommy got home late from work as usual, and she was sittin' on the couch eatin' dinner when I walked by. And I promise, I wasn't that close! I know she does not like long Calico fur in her food, so I stay away but just close enough in case she feels like throwin' me a piece-o-chicken. (Which she didn't, the bitch!) She got a whiff of me from 10 feet away and started singing Joni Mitchell's "A Case of You," only substituting the word "poo" for "you." SHE SAID I SMELLED LIKE A CASE OF POO ... I'm sorry, like that's an insult? Dumbass.

Well, she got me in the bathroom. I was up on the sink for my evening tap water toddy, and she ducked into the room and shut the door, which she never does. Uh oh. I had nowhere to run, and when I saw the cat ass wipes and the scissors, I knew I was in for a night!

Not only was my ass stained with shit that just didn't seem to want to be wiped on the carpet (although I did sufficiently ruin the carpet after my evening shit), but I also had a big ol' shit burr tangled in the fur at the bottom of my belly. I'm like a kangaroo, in that respect -- I had created my own little poop pouch!

Don't worry -- she cut out the burr. And I smelled good overnight, but this morning, she is asking me how I smell like shit again when my ass is all smooth and stuff. Heh -- you might be able to cut the shit burrs out of the cat, but if you don't know to look for pellets under your computer desk, well, that's not my problem, is it now? ;) ...

Shit prints and kitten funk

Those are mine and Kadi's new nicknames (thanks Mommy. Bitch).

I swear, I am going to market a line of kitty art called "shit prints" -- my mountains of crap on the floor are just a spectacular sight to behold sometimes!

My tummy's been a-rumbling lately. Mommy cheaped the fuck out and bought Cat Chow because it was on sale. UGH! Talk about a gastrointestinal disaster -- I've had more dingleberries embedded in my ass fur than ever before!

Speaking of, I'm all fluffy now 'cause she gave me a BATH and groomed me. OW! I HATE being combed! HATE IT! I meowed (in the bathroom sink) so loud that the neighbors came over to ask if someone was hurt. HAH! They thought I was HUMAN!

Which, I am, of course -- but trapped in a tiny ball of fur-and-shit. Fuck Willy Wonka and his chocolate factory -- I got your chocolate factory RIGHT HERE, muthafucka!!!

Anyway, the switch to "crap" food means one thing in this house: Kadi farts more than EVER. Poohnani!!! She used to fart a lot as a kitten when Mommy fed her Iams, but it goes away when we get Mow Mix (not MeOw mix -- it's Mow, because that's what I saw -- mow!), particularly the Seafood Middles, which makes me dance and shit at the same time, and believe me, that takes a LOT of effort to achieve!

Oh, please help me -- Kadi likes to jump on my back and fart on my head. I growl at her and Mommy yells at both of us. Then Mommy will get a big fat whiff of kitten funk and she will understand what I was saying. She's been burning lots of Nag Champa incense to mask the ass scent in the house -- between Kadi's noxious gas and my magnificent pyramids of shit on the rug, she's ready to cut off her hair and hang herself with it. I hope she doesn't do that -- who would make the house smell pretty again, even if it only lasts for an hour or two at a time?!?!

Real food!

So Mommy decided to grill some salmon for the Fourth of July holiday. And she even made some for Kadi and me! Hers was basted in this nasty teriyaki crap, but she made sure to make us a nice filet that was free of that shit.

But ... we really didn't even LIKE it.

All you cheap-ass kitty parents who keep feeding us this "cat food loaf" bullshit that you find on sale at your local Wal-Mart, listen the fuck up: That shit? SUCKS! We do not CARE that you get 47 cans for five bucks. FUCK YOU. Do you know what's IN that? Neither do we!!!! But when that's all we come to expect from your sorry asses, we do not KNOW how to react when presented with bona fide food from the sea! The sea, I tell you -- the sea! Not from a pond behind a cat food factory. Christ! Just because I LICK MY ASS does not mean that I deserve to eat CAT FOOD LOAF IN A MOTHERFUCKING CAN, now does it?

Fuck, that's why I've stopped cleaning my ass -- all I need to do is go look in my BOWL on an average DAY and I will be forced to eat something of roughly the same color and consistency of what I leave in the BOX! Or, around the box. You know me -- I never hit it. At least, not intentionally. ;)

We did eat the salmon, by the way. Mommy hid it in our nasty dry cat food, and we ate it. And it's gonna be a sad day when we have to finish out the rest of the case of canned cat food as memories of real salmon dances through our heads. Well, my head, anyway. I suspect nothing whatsoever dances through Kadi's widdle head. ...

A cat with two faces?!?!

A cat was born in my Aunt Shan's home state of Oregon with two faces. Wow! That's a whole lotta pussy!

Me? I'd rather have two asses. Because I love my ass so. Double the shit, double the skid marks on the carpet!!!