Thank You, Auntie Ellen!

Sam wanted to throw out a big thanks to Ellen for his wonderful new blanket. Its perfect for lady-watching.

Clearly There's A Resemblance

The dark, soulful eyes, the thick and shiny hair, the gentle smile denoting extreme poweress over all circumstances. Why did it take me so long to figure out Sam's human equivalent?

Exactly the same.

Both Sam and George even share a characteristic common to distinguished older men:

The ever expanding, middle-aged man ears.

And we can't forget that both know how to charm the ladies:

But one area where Sam trumps George...

George probably doesn't have a flame motif decorating the hair on his butt.

Even The Kit-ten Is Disgusted

with the breakdown of our...ahem, my taxdollars (since I'm the only taxpayer in the house). The eleven non-humans are unapologetic welfare recipients. Too bad their lifestyles are subsidized by my personal fortune rather than the dollars of me and my fellow citizens.

Although, I can certainly dream that Ooolah is reclining on a small slice of this tax dollar pie says, "Agirlandherpigs-pigs."

It Could Be Worse - The Maggie Laundry Chronicles

My Most Faithful Reader has photographic proof of the abuse he suffers from that vicious minx, that throwback to prehistoric creatures, Maggasaurus Rex:

disguised in a furry form.

Clearly this reincarnated prehistoric creature is offended by what looks to be Smurfs boxers. Or perhaps she hates cleanliness. Or that fair-skinned Irish hand. Just so you don't think that Maggie's reputation is a bit overrated,

The words of Maggie's victim say it best:

"The first photo is hard to see, but it's a white arm through a white laundry basket over a white shirt attacking my white arm...second photo was immediately after the flash from the first photo pissed her off."

Not longer after this photographic series of violence, this little gem arrived via email:

Like she's eating her dinner and enjoying every second of it. Clearly M-Rex is becoming more comfortable with the camera capturing her bloodlust.

Happy New Year!

Best Wishes for a wonderful 2008. Those of you who know about this blog AND care enough to actually read it, deserve many blessings this year.

Although, this may be the end of 2007, we are still very much in the Chinese New Year...Year of the Pig, which ends February 6th. According to my Chinese horoscope, financial blessing will come to me during this last month, so GIMME MY BLESSINGS, PLEASE! If February 7th rolls around, and I'm sitting in poverty...expect an invitation to my pity party.

Sigh

This is The Ladies' hay bowl.

Five seconds before this picture was taken, all five ladies were happily eating the hay inside of it. I ruined it when I showed up with camera in hand. I had a post fermenting in my head about gluttony, and Swoosie, the eldest lady, had plopped herself right in the middle of the bowl, thereby keeping 75% of the hay away from everyone else.

Only Wheezy Jefferson was brave enough to keep eating throughout the others' stampede. And no, she doesn't usually douse herself with hay. That is the result of the other ladies running for their lives. I would say that Wheezy's mother didn't raise her to be a fool, but her mother is Swoosie, so that doesn't apply. I guess in her gut, she knew not cowering with the crowd would give her all of the rewards.

Kiddo realizes that Wheezy now has ALL OF THE HAY. Unthinkable!

Meanwhile, here's Swoosie...the very reason I tried to take the picture at all...hiding, and what a clever spot she chose tonight.

Perhaps a therapist can one day explain to me why I gravitate toward animals who are afraid of almost everything. What does that say about me? Nothing I can feel good about.

Blessed Are The Nap-Takers...

for they shall give The Human peace.

Bless those closed-eyes, that even breathing, the dreams which occupy the nap-taker.

Bless the miracle of life to keep on going, even when the nap-taker defies it by sleeping in a position which does not suport breathing.

Best of all...bless the quiet.

This is the alternative to napping. The irritated tilt of the ears.

The seething rage behind those beautiful blue eyes.

And unfortunately, the inevitable violence.