Eff You, Sallie Mae!

And no, I'm not at all grateful for my college education. Not that I didn't enjoy myself. I did, and I actually learned quite a bit too.

However...its pretty irritating nine years out of my graduation to see that I've barely made a dent in paying off my student loans. 3% of my monthly payment goes toward the principal amount. The rest is interest. Its a nice feeling.

The Ladies have taken these bills into their own mouths. No human should underestimate a guinea pig's ability to eat (quite enthusiastically) vast quantities of paper. And I have 10.

That piece of paper was ripped out of my fingers quicker than I could say, "Those mother f..."

Its a veritable paper bloodbath, and it also created nice moments of togetherness for The Ladies, who have been suffering from the winter blues and getting a wee bit irritated with each other. They can't pay the bill, but they can so nicely dispose of it for me--until they dispose of it themselves. Then its my problem again.

Poor J.J. looks on, unable to join in the vanquishing of evil...because you know, he'd probably get sidetracked trying to impregnate them all. Which really wouldn't ease my stress.

Stay a spectator, J.J. I appreciate that too, considering the alternative.

Back In Business

The house has been in a standstill while the Elder Statesman (but eternally young) Sam, had a tumor taken off his tummy.

The picture is over-exposed but notice the huge nipple. Sam's tumor was underneath and the nipple served as a faucet for puss and other toxic liquids.

But Sam never complained. He just kept on living...kept his eyes on The Ladies across the way...ate everything on his plate every night...taunted the other boys, just so they know that he's still the boss and managed to be sweet and all around adorable towards The Human in the house.

His health was on the line, yet Sam behaved with Grace.

But we only concerned ourselves with Sam's health, not with his illness. Its true, that after the tumor presented itself, The Human would come home tiptoeing and peering into Sam's cage to see if he was still alive. He was.

The Human decided to see Sam only as Perfect and Well.

And so he is.

The Ladies welcome Sam back from his surgery like the hero he is.

Below are Sam's victory stitches, Day Three, post-surgery.

Sam didn't particularly care for his recovery cage, away from his friends. In the first days, he spent much time underneath his furniture...or a purple stuffed bunny easter basket.

The meds sure didn't convince him to reconsider his anti-social behavior.

Here's Sam in a brief appearance, consenting to having his picture taken, merely to please his subejcts. This is Day Two in his recovery.

This Friday will be two weeks, post surgery. Sam is off his meds, on his food and hay and back in his regular cage. He's pleased with life, and The Human is pleased with his improvement.

And Sam's beau-tiful hair is returning. On Friday, his stitches will be gone, and this chapter will officially be over.

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.