It Is Mine You Know!

So I have heard that my grandma has been complaining about the photo of the hissing slasher that is posted on my site. She says it's a bad photo and you can't even see him. And the problem is?

I personally do not see a problem. It's a bad photo? Yes, but what do you expect from a inbred goofball like him. You can't see him? All the better. I think she is forgetting that this is MY site and he should count his blessings for even that one small token I afforded him.



This is Tiger and I a few years ago. Do not ask me why I am so close to him, obviously I was more tolerant in my younger days. Ok...You might be thinking this picture does not look much better then the other one. Yes, it is his ass end, but I swear to you if he was facing the camera it would look just the same.



This is us sleeping on mom's bed. I must preface that I must have been drugged and placed in this position to give the allusion that I actually like him. At least mom had the decency to put my back towards the camera as to not show my face. It really can not be proven that this is actually me. Yep, I am sure grandma is complaining that this photo does him no justice either.




There a full frontal of the turd. If you ask me, the giant weed has more class and personality then he does. Fitting picture I think.

That is enough of my life wasted on him, so I am off to nap......

Lucky Grandpa!

Grandpa bought a new car today. No, I did not even get a ride but either did the hissing slasher. Mom drove it around for a few and said it was a fun little car. Lots of room for a kitty to play and plenty of windows to explore the world. I personally do not think I would like the new smell but humans seem to love it.

It seems the only time I get to ride in the car I am trapped in a box with bars on the front. I usually end up at the Vet also. Sometimes mom takes me out to see Malcolm and Gina. Gina is a new friend of mine and I tend to hide when I am at her house. Her dad has a nice big bed and I love to crawl under the covers and sleep. She also gets to go outside, unlike me, who is forced to stay in the house all the time. I remember a time when I was free to roam the great outdoors, but no more of that. Mom says we live near to many other kitties and a "busy" street. Like I do not know not to play in the street. Anyway, it is nice and warm in the house and I get all the love I need.

I Like Lint!

I do not eat it, just like to throw it around. Usually mom is a neat nik and I never get to play with any. She has been busy though and there is plenty to play with now. Fun to chase, throw in the air, even carry on my fur. Mom says I am goofy but what would you do if you were alone for 12 hours with only a damn bird to talk to.

I know mom is tired lately though. My brush sits idly on the counter and my plastic sticks lay tucked away in the couch. She talks about her new job, plus her other job and then some school thing. I think she should take a clue from me and curl up in the comforter and sleep the day away. She grumbles about bills, food, unnecessary stuff like that. Maybe I could look for a job also. Does playing with lint pay much?

The Hissing Slasher is Gone!!!

Goodbye and good ridens. The hissing slasher (pictured right) has finally gone home. See, I am not a huge fan of my brother Tiger. He is my grandparents cat and has to come to "camp" every so often when they are away on vacation. The problem is, no one asks me if I mind sharing my space with him. Everyone just assumes I will easily adjust to the smelly turd being here.

As you can tell by his name, he is not the sharpest tool in the shed. Mom's friend Malcolm christened him the hissing slasher after an altercation they had under a bed. I was not present at the time but have heard through the grape vine it was not pretty.

He is a goofy little thing. A bit too much inbreeding if you ask me. No, he is not blood, but I am forced to call him family.

It is hard for an only child to share things. Mom has the condition also, only child syndrome. When you have lived for the past 13 months as an only it is quite disruptive to have someone come in and be expected to share. He sleeps in my bed and leaves nasty un-combed hair in it. He eats out of my bowl and steals my treats. I have to share my litter boxes and smell his stinky butt. He even goes as low as stealing my dope bag. Yes, I am addicted to my dope bags. Grandma makes them just for me and he has the nerve to rub all over them so they loose their yummy smell.

Well, he is gone back home for now. I can not reclaim my home and not have to share my mom anymore. Life is good.

I have a hairy butt.

That is what my mom tells me all the time. Seems she does not enjoy my fascination with sticking it in her face at the most inopportune times. Other then the hairy comments she does have a few others for me: Sesame butt, bald belly, goofy, OCD cat, and Sahara Marie, when I am in trouble.

This is the first time I have ever been on the computer alone and am finding it a wee bit scary. Mom and I read a lot of blogs of people with animals and always have a good laugh. I decided to write one myself since there is no one else in this damn house who speaks my language. See my only sister, Shadow, died last year after a battle with cancer. Mom swears she can't afford a new kitty right now so I have been stuck to entertain myself. Yeah, I have the bully bird here with me, but who wants to be caught dead being nice to the enemy. He is rude anyway, always flying away as soon as I get close enough to talk.

So, here I go into the land of blogging.....This is alot of work....I am already tired.....Need a nap.....