Ca-Ca-Ca-Cats!

Look at this effing cat.
It isn't mine, but man do I wish mine would take some initiative! I mean, what a great photo!

I am neither a dog, nor a cat person. I am an animal person. I love them all. Except snakes...get the hell out of here with those. I understand there are people who don't "get" cats, but I'll be damned if I'm going to ever see eye-to-eye with a person who just flat out hates them. If anything, they've just been meeting the wrong cats.

Case in point: this little idiot here, wearing this contraption on its head and looking as dignified as ever. It's as if it were intentional. Put that on a dog's head and it will give you a look as if to say, "Oh, man, I am such a goofball. Aren't I? Am I not the biggest goof?"

But, this cat is just like, "Yeah. I'm wearing this. And? You still want to pet me. You're into it. And why shouldn't you be? I look damn good!"

It doesn't matter what the cat does, it will do it with grace and dignity. I'd even go so far as to say, when it comes to fashion, cats are the Lady Gaga of the animal kingdom. They will wear some crazy bullshit with pride seeking only your attention and never your approval.

Iron-On Transfers: An analysis

I've had these transfers for a couple of years now. (Thank you, Tammy.)

And I never had a shirt for them. Until now...

So I dug them out of their safe haven and revisited them. They are amazing.

Ladies and gents...Miss Kitty Kat. Miss Kitty Kat, say 'hello' to the ladies and gents.

Here we have Miss Kitty Kat taking part in the standard household chore of sweeping the floor.

Please note it is much easier to clean your floors sans pants, but wearing an apron. (Oh, and P.S. "Shoo, floating, disembodied, kitty head! Get the hell outta here!")

The same goes for ironing.

Please note: Sans pants, bow around neck.

How about hanging out the wash?

Ah. Apron again, complete with a pouch for clothes pins.

Here's an interesting thing I didn't know. Kitties wear jackets (or perhaps this is a cardigan) while shopping for groceries. However, the afternoon frolic through the flowers requires...

BOOM! A full dress, complete with a hat, belt, pearls, and a handbag. I mean, she looks so put-together and fancy, so presentable. It's almost as if she's on her way to church. Right?

Wrong! This vixen praises and sings her hymns while she is straight-up, buck nude!

What a whore.

The Afternoon: A List.

*Leave work.

*Drive home.

*Take pills for headache.

*Dump trash.

*Contemplate emptying dishwasher, but search for a snack instead.

*Feed cat.

*Take nap.

*Wake up w/ headache intact.

*Watch favorite episode of "My So-Called Life"

*Cry about it, because why? Why did Mr. Racine have to leave? And how is that Angela's hero was so flawed? It's just so unjust.