Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Wørd!

Fuggin' A, ain't dat da troot!

funny pictures - I'm just shocked finding a cat actually using the catbed, and not the five pieces of furniture around it, or the box it came in.
see more Lolcats and funny pictures.

2 comments:

  1. Yesterday, one of mine brought a nice offering of a chipmunk. Big one, for its type. Dead stripey bastard right on the fucking bed.

    Out of fucking nowhere... a chipmunk. The cats have only ever seen them through the sliding glass door. How one got inside to get captured, I have no idea.

    Also, that it was expertly killed only underscores the weirdness of my cats. They rarely kill or even injure mice. Now, I *know* they know how to kill, so I can only assume they keep the mice as pets, until I liberate the hapless creatures.

    The chipmunk must have put up more of a fight, or represented more of a challenge. Or, like me, the cats are sick and tired of the incredibly loud "chirp, chirp, chirp" going on, incessantly.

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  2. My cat's "catbed" is one of my bedroom pillows that I put on top of a chest-of-drawers while changing the bedsheets on my people bed one day, and when I tried to retrieve the pillow, it had 18 pounds of FURBALL on it. Didn't happen. I retrieved an extra pillow from the closet instead, and there I am, one pillow down (the extra pillows in the closet are for when guests come and I fold out the futon in the living room, guess they'll have to use their suitcase as a pillow, eh?).

    Regarding gifts, my current pair are too fat and lazy to be into gifts. But the black half of my first pair was a fearsome hunter. No lizard, snake, vole, or mouse within a one-block distance of our house was safe (birds, on the other hand, were quite safe -- dunno why, but he never had any success with birds). The most unwelcome gift of all was the day I heard a screeching from the mudroom/laundry room that the cats used to go in and out of the house from the back yard (they'd scratch and meow, and someone would let them in or out, depending on which way they wanted to go). It was my mother, screeching "SNAKE!" then using ALL THREE of my names telling me to get my cat and his snake out of her laundry room. I rushed in, and the cat, alarmed, DROPPED THE SNAKE and ran back outside since clearly we had all lost our minds with all our screeching and dancing around. At which point my mother, a large woman, left the vicinity more quickly than seemed possible, and the snake, an immature water moccasin about six inches long, disappeared underneath the washing machine.

    I ended up washing all of the clothes for the next month :).

    -- Badtux the Long-time-cat-owned Penguin

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