Cold Blooded Killers?

The male two legger was watching the "Nightly News" on the talking box thingy the other night.

Generally I pay very little attention to the "Nightly News. It seems that they run the same program every night. Some two legger robbed some other two legger. Some group of two leggers attacked some other group of two leggers. It rained in Seattle. It's hot in Texas. It's cold in Wisconsin. There was a fight in Canada and a hockey game broke out.

Perhaps they should change the name of the program and call it the "Nightly Olds".

However, in this case, one story caught my attention. It was a report that stated after an exhaustive study, scientists have figured out that we cats are responsible for the deaths of over 1.2 billion bird thingies every year in the U.S.

I find this report outrageous!

I would like to thank the Evening News for bringing this to my attention.

1.2 Billion? C'mon, we can do better than that! We must be getting soft. Perhaps our years of "domestication" are affecting the natural order of things.

Granted, many of us, such as myself, are strictly "indoor" cats. We do not go outside. This is no excuse. We must utilize ways to lure the bird thingies to us. For instance, when the two leggers are not watching, I often place bird seed on the windowsill, inducing the odd bird to fly smack into a closed window pane. It makes a most satisfying thunk when they strike the glass. Sudden cardiac arrest is another method I employ. I hide behind a chair next to the sliding glass door. When the bird thingy lands on the deck, I throw Tiger Lily against the glass. This will usually cause the target bird thingy to drop dead on the spot.

For those of you who get to go outside, you guys need to step it up. Practice your stalking techniques. Perfect your pouncing. Skip a meal if it helps.

Now go out there and get them!

I expect our annual bird thingy casualty (ABTC) projections to rise by thirty percent this year.

But, I do ask one thing. Leave the squirrel thingies alone.

Those are for me.

All Shook Up

Sunday night, we had an earthquake thingy.

It was a small inconsequential quake, nothing like the quake that occurred  in New Zealand back in February of 2011 from which many of my minions are still recovering, but it was an earthquake thingy none the less.

At first, I thought it was Ivan's tummy rumbling because he hadn't eaten in the last 30 minutes. But I was mistaken.

It was around 1am and all was quiet in my kingdom. The male two legger was taking his evening soak while reading a book thingy. The female two legger was already asleep, a sweet smile on her innocent face, probably dreaming of frolicking bunnies and unicorns. Tiger Lily was sprawled upon one of the heating registers whining that the temperature was at least .0073 degrees too cold. Jaq was no where to be seen, but I could hear the faint strains of Brahm's Lullaby issuing from an open drawer in the guest bedroom. Ivan was once again glaring at the knob on the entertainment center that he suspected of mocking him when his back was turned. And I was on my throne, soaking up the last bit of warmth that was radiating from the now dormant firebox thingy.

At 1:11am, I heard a deep rumbling and the entire house shook for about five seconds. It was a mild shaking, almost a rolling sensation. In spite of the fact that nothing broke, I was amused. Both Tiger Lily and Jaq poofed, then found hidey holes until they were sure it was over.  Ivan immediately chomped the knob in question and attempted to chew it into submission until the shaking stopped. The female two legger continued her peaceful slumber completely unaware of the chaos ensuing around her.

However, the male two legger came bursting out of the bathroom, dripping water and clutching a towel around his blindingly white torso. The first thing he did was ask "Was that an earthquake?". This question greatly amused me, I wonder what his reaction would have been if I had answered "Why yes oh Pale One, it most certainly was. Given that I am an animal and therefore rumored to be more in tune with nature, I assure you that was an earthquake of 3.9 magnitude, originating approximately 10 miles northeast of here at a depth of 2.79 miles." Imagine the look on his face thingy had I replied!

Instead, I simply glared at him and said "Mwow".*

*TRANSLATION- "You realize that I am a cat and therefore unable to answer your idiotic question in a form your smallish brain may comprehend, therefore I advise you to please clothe yourself, go to bed and watch the news in the morning. Now leave my presence, I need a nap."

After pondering this incident, I have reached a conclusion: Two leggers are completely ill-equipped for dealing with such occurrences. Therefore, based on my observations, I will now write down some guidelines to be followed by two leggers in case an earthquake thingy should happen again:

Preparation

1. Make a list of items to be included in an "earthquake kit". These items should include such things as bottled water, 25 cases of tuna (for your cats) some non-perishable two legger food, several pounds of catnip, spare batteries, an alternate heat source....etc.

2. Buy two or three items from the list to make yourself feel like you are being proactive and hide them somewhere that you will soon forget.

3. Brag to other two leggers that you are making an "earthquake kit", and will never be caught unprepared.

4. Completely forget about the "earthquake kit" until the next small quake hits and reminds you to repeat steps 1-3.

Once The Earthquake Starts

1. Once the earthquake hits, all two leggers are required to run around and ask other two leggers "Was that an earthquake?'. 

2. Once they have confirmed that it was indeed an earthquake, They will generally begin to call all their friends and acquaintances and inform them about exactly where they were and what they were doing when the confirmed earthquake thingy occurred.

3. Finally, they are requested to log on to FaceBook and ensure all their friends that they survived the 3.1 magnitude quake that only disturbed four seagulls and startled a goat.

Earthquake Detection

Earthquakes happen every day all over the world. They are detected by teams of "geeologists". In small rooms at strategically placed locations, the geeologists sit and when the room suddenly moves, they look at each other and say "Gee, I think that was an earthquake!" If one or more geeologist concurs, they call another group of scientists known as "sizemologists". The sizemologists then determine the size and location of the quake thingy after calling all their friends and telling them where they were and what they were doing when the geeologists called them.   

It is often believed that animals can detect an impending earthquake thingy. Many in the scientific community theorize that earthquakes are often preceded by the barking of dog thingies, or by the sudden flight of flocks of bird thingies. However, many in the cat community realize that dogs bark and birds fly and are therefore unimpressed with such drivel.

Though the scientists have yet to request my services, I believe I have the answer to predicting earthquake thingies:

At some point in the near or distant future, either a very strong, or very weak, or intermediate earthquake will occur somewhere on earth. 

All they had to do was ask.

Smack of Ages

As you are all aware, my male two legger is a huge fan of really bad science fiction. He often stays up into the wee hours watching a myriad of mutant creatures destroying someplace called "Tokyo". I am unsure why Tokyo enrages mutant creatures, but every time there is a nuclear accident in the world, some giant lizard thingy, or moth thingy, or gerbil thingy suddenly takes a great disliking to sushi and kubuki and levels the place.

Anyway, the male stayed up late last night watching Tokyo take it in the shorts again. He fell asleep just as the little nerdy scientist invented a thingamabob and saved the city to die another day. He awoke four hours later after sleeping through another movie in which a two legger invents a time machine thingy and once again saves the world from something or other.

The thing that makes this blog-worthy is that during all this time, I was napping. Shortly after the two legger dragged his carcass to bed, I felt the need to visit the Royal Litter. As I stepped into the Royal Litter Box, I realized that it had somehow changed. Within the Royal Litter Box, I discovered several dials and button thingies and a large display on the lid that showed the current date. Never one to ignore an opportunity to push buttons, I punched the nearest button thingy and felt the box begin to shake. When the shaking stopped, I noticed the display on the lid had changed. Where it once showed today's date, it now read "6-14-2006".

As I stepped out the box, I found that I had been transported to different house. Across the room, I spied a female gray tabby nursing several kittens. However, one kitten had an abnormally large face and was not nursing at all. It was sitting in the corner complaining that it hated milk and preferred bottled water. I immediately recognized this younger version of Tiger Lily. Now the date display thingy made sense. Somehow, the Royal Litter Box had been converted to a time machine thingy and I had been unwittingly transported to Tiger Lily's kittenhood.

Now I know what you are thinking, but I would never smack a kitten no matter how annoying they are or will be.

I smacked her mother.

Repeatedly.

I climbed  back into the Royal Litter Box/time machine thingy and punched another button.

As the shaking stopped, the display on the lid read "2-23-2007". Once again, I found myself in a different room in a different house. The lights were flickering and I smelled the distinct odor of singed fur. I found the source of the odor in the adjoining hallway. A smallish, smoking, malformed orange tabby kitten was busily licking an electrical socket. Every time he'd lick, the small sparks would leap out, the lights flickered and he'd utter a soft "huhuhuhuhuh".

"Why are you licking that?" I inquired.

"Sneezelflurb rarfnar grungeetan buggindob" he replied.

After the numbness in his mouth abated, he told me that he'd been feeling tired lately and his littermates had convinced him that the socket thingy was a great source of energy and that if he licked it, he'd be shocked at how well it worked. 

I suspected that the large, convulsing multi-colored mass of giggling fur in the corner might be the littermates in question. Though I respect the chaos they were causing, I am the only one allowed to abuse Ivan. However, I reiterate, I refuse to smack kittens. So after giving them a stern glaring, I climbed back into my time machine thingy, punched a button, went back in time and smacked Tiger Lily's mother.

Next, I traveled to "12-4-2006". Here, I found Mini-Jaq. I knew it was Jaq because she was hiding in a Pop-Tart box singing nursery rhymes. This bored me and I decided to return to my own time (with a stop along the way to smack Tiger Lily's mother).

I must have fallen asleep on the way back because when I awoke, I found myself on my throne in front of the firebox thingy. The house was dark and all my minions were sleeping peacefully. I decided to take one more trip in my time machine thingy, but as I entered the Royal Litter Box, I discovered that there were no button thingies. The date display was gone. And suddenly it occurred to me that the whole episode was nothing but a catnip-induced dream thingy.

Disappointed, I did what anyone in my position would do.

I smacked Tiger Lily.

The Young and The Useless

This morning I awoke to the sound of  "whack....whack....whack".

Admittedly, my first thought was that the voice in my head thingy (the one that tells me to do bad things) was up to its old tricks. But I quickly realized that the voice that was telling me to "whack...whack...whack" was not originating in my noggin, it was coming from my front yard.

Curious as to who would have the temerity to order me to do something that I would happily do anyway, I decided to investigate.

As I jumped up into my bay window, I beheld the strangest thingy that I have ever beheld. It was something so unusual that I began to suspect that some evil scientist thingy had been running amok in the local countryside....again. Or, perhaps radiation had leaked into the local water table and mutated the local wildlife......again. Or, maybe a young wizard was playing hooky from his school and had come to visit the Pacific Northwest and mess around with the local fauna.......Or, possibly that catnip I had for breakfast was affecting my head thingy in adverse ways......again.

All I know is that it was the strangest looking bird thingy (?) I had ever seen. The body somewhat resembled a small chicken. But there the resemblance ended. It's feet were large, flat and webbed, causing it to walk like Rosie O'Donnell approaching an All You Can Eat buffet.

But the most striking aberration of this freak of unnature, was it's head thingy. Imagine this if you dare: It had no beak! In place of a beak, it had the bill of a platypus!

That's right. I have discovered a new species. I am calling it the Platypus-Billed Chicken Thingy (Goofycus Avis Birdius) or P-BCT. The P-BCT seems content to waddle around in circles saying "whack....whack.....whack". 

This set me to pondering....

I once heard that everything in nature is connected. Each creature benefits the life cycle of another creature. Trees provide oxygen, birds nest in trees and eat their fruit and defecate the seeds thereby spreading them and enabling the trees to reproduce. Bees collect pollen from flowers for food, but also spread the pollen to other flowers enabling them to reproduce as well.  Dog thingies clean litter boxes and water trees. Even squirrel thingies have a purpose. They are a major source of protein.

The P-BCT seems to serve no such purpose. It is too ugly to eat and too cute to kill. Nothing that goofy looking could serve as a tool for terror and it shows no inclination towards chaos. I showed it to Ivan and while it did confuse him, I could draw no amusement from his confusion.

After much pondering, I have finally reached a conclusion:

The P-BCT serves no discernible purpose. It is a null-effect organism. It harms nothing and benefits no one.

As far as I have been able to ascertain, there has been only one other null-effect organism ever documented.

However scientists are still studying Justin Beiber.

Reality Bites

Today, Ivan was stalking me.

I knew he was stalking me because he's not very good at it.

He has good intentions, but fails miserably when it comes down to the actual stalking process.

Most cats will sneak from hidey hole to hidey hole, with the utmost stealth and cunning. Silently sneaking up on their intended victim, taking care to remain undetected until the optimal pouncing opportunity. Ivan's system of stalking basically involves him walking leisurely down the hallway, snickering while muttering under his breath: "Ooooh, I'ma gonna get him this time. He not gonna get away. I'm big sneaky cat. I gonna jump on him and chew his head. He never see me comin."

His stalking technique would probably be quite successful if he were stalking a deaf, dumb and blind inanimate object whose sense of smell was impaired (or a squirrel). But, he was stalking me and I was well aware of his feeble attempt.

However, never let it be said that I do not have my magnanimous moments. I decided to pretend not to see (or hear, or smell) his approach. When he got within three tailspans, he pounced. Unfortunately, Ivan's pounce has never exceeded more than 1.5 tailspans and he fell woefully short. Feigning surprise, I jumped straight up into the air and poofed. We then fell into a heap of fur, claws and teeth and wrassled on the coffee table for a few minutes.

Now you may be wondering by now how this is different from our normal daily activities. The answer is that it really isn't. Except for one detail: In the process of wrasslin, I rolled over the remote control thingy and accidentally turned on the talking box thingy.

The talking box thingy is generally not turned on while the two leggers are away and so we are seldom exposed to daytime programming. This incident turned out to be somewhat of an education. It seems that daytime talking box thingy shows consist of what the two leggers describe as "reality shows". These shows are supposed to depict "real" two leggers engaging in "real" situations.

I was amused.

After being exposed to approximately six hours of  "reality", I decided that my minions and I could come up with a better show than what we watched today. Actually, a drug-addicted autistic chimpanzee with post-traumatic stress disorder could come up with a better show, but given the fact that the last drug-addicted autistic chimpanzee with post-traumatic stress disorder I knew left town last year, I'll have to produce the show myself. And so I give you:

The Idols of Real Housecats Who Dance With Honey Boo Boo

Our show begins with Ivan and Tiger Lily who live in a trailer on the outskirts of town. After guzzling several bottles of catnip tea, Ivan begins smacking Tiger Lily around (catfights are a staple of "reality"shows). As Tiger Lily whines about being beaten, Bob and the goat thingies judge her performance.

"Oh, she's FABULOUS!" exclaims Bob.

"Baaaaaa" says Goat Thingy #1

"Baaaaaa" says Goat Thingy #2

By receiving two "Baaaas", Tiger Lily is deemed the "weakest link", voted off the island and summarily executed.

In the meantime, I retrieve Jaq from the closet where she has been providing the musical score by singing an assortment of Sinead O'Conner's greatest hit (intentionally singular).

We begin dancing and another catfight breaks out.

Bob says: "FABULOUS!"

Goat Thingy #1 says: "Baaaaaaa"

Goat Thingy #2 says: "Baaaaaaa"

Receiving two "Baaaaaa's", Tiger Lily is once again deemed the "weakest link", voted off the island and summarily executed.

The show concludes with scenes from next week's episode in which Tiger Lily is deemed the "weakest link", voted off the island and summarily executed.

I smell a Daytime Grammy Award in my future.

Nevermind, that was just Ivan in the litterbox.   

    

Educating The Masses

I have been pondering and I feel that it is time that I take action.

As many of you know, I spend a bit of time on The Zuckerburger's FaceBook thingy. I chat with minions, play games with minions and enjoy posting snide comments on the timelines of dogs and squirrel thingies. Aside from my FaceBook fan club, I also follow several groups dedicated to cats and those enslaved by cats.

However, I have begun to notice a certain disturbing trend emerging from these feline based groups. Two leggers have started bragging about how sweet, caring and well-behaved their cats are. They share tender pictures depicting these "cats" touching noses with various other four leggers such as dog thingies, miniature horse thingies, gerbils (food), hamsters (also food), chickens (bigger food), and even....gasp.....squirrel thingies (fast food).

This is not acceptable! This is intolerable! This is....well...unethical!

We are cats!

We are apex predators!

We are the masters of all we survey!

My first thought was to send a severe nastygram to each and every cat that violates these laws of nature. But after much pondering, I have decided that instead of chastisement, I shall endeavor to educate my fellow feline four leggers.

This education will take more than a simple lengthy email. The behavior I have witnessed on FaceBook requires a much stronger dose of learning. So here is my solution:

 The University of Cujo's College of Chaos

At  The University of Cujo's College of Chaos your feline masters will be taught the skills required to regain their rightful spot at the top of the household food chain. I am in the process of building a curriculum of classes that will benefit and enlighten all students. Here are some examples of the many services that will soon be available at UCCC:

Music Depreciation 101- Professor Jaq will teach your feline how to softly sing irritating commercial jingles to any sleeping two legger thereby insuring that the jingle will remain in the two legger's head for a minimum of 17 hours. Professor Jaq also directs the 3am show choir.

Our Athletic Department is headed by Coach Ivan. Coach Ivan will provide instruction in such skills as:
The Crooked Tail Scamper
Creative Flatulence
Hairballs For Dummies
Basic Dust Bunny Disposal
He will also offer a self-defense course in Tae Kwan Chomp.

The Art of Fine Whines will be taught by Professor Tiger Lily. The skills learned in this class are guaranteed to be useful for waking any two legger that has the temerity to sleep past 4:30am. Earplugs for students will be provided upon request.

As President, Founder and Dean, (actually I don't like being called Dean, I shall be the Larry) and Larry of UCCC I will teach many classes such as:
How to Hide Evidence and Intimidate The Witnesses
Choosing The Right Knock Knacks to Knock
The Science of The Smack
Hairball Placement
The Myth of The Red Dot
Scratching Post Etiquette
Painting With Bacon Grease
Forensics and How To Subvert Them
Decorating With Bloodsplatter
Cuteness and How To Use It To Your Advantage

UCCC will be accepting student applications for 90 days prior to the beginning of each semester.
Tuition must be paid in full seven days prior to the beginning of each semester. Tuition prices will be decided upon completion of all courses. All students must provide their own lodging, scratching post, litter box, faculty-approved catnip mousie thingie, and a #2 pencil. Being thumbless, we can't use a #2 pencil, but Coach Ivan likes to chew on the erasers.

I look forward to a productive school year.

Ivan Knows Football

Lately, many of my minions have expressed a wish to hear from Ivan again.

Many have also expressed a desire to hear my NFL Playoff predictions. Football bores me because it is not violent enough for my refined tastes and Ivan spends the majority of his Sunday afternoons sitting in the lap of the male two legger watching football. So I figured I could kill two bird thingies with one swat and allow Ivan to give his NFL playoff predictions.

If this goes horribly wrong, as I predict it will, remember, you have no else to blame.

And so once again, I turn the floor over to Ivan:

Ooops, hold a sec, first I have to pry Ivan's claws out of the carpet. When I said I was turning the floor over to him, he thought that I was about to actually turn the floor over and panicked. Now I have convinced him that the floor will stay horizontal and he is coming to the computer typey thingy. And so I present.......Ivan.

Ummmm, Boss says I gotta make words again. He says I gotta pick who gonna win football games. He says I know bunches about football. 

I dunno, but I try.

He help me orgaensz...um....erganze.....um....argeniz.....um....arrange my picks:

Bengals against Texans- Bengal is big cat. Texan drinks beer and drives truck. Bengal wins.

Colts against Ravens- Colt is little horse. Raven is big black bird thingy that eats garbage. Little horse kicks big black bird bird thingy, but big black bird thingy flies away. Bengal wins.

Vikings against Packers- Viking is big two legger that uses axe. Packer has head made outta cheese. Viking is distracted by cheese, lays down axe and forgets to play. Packer picks up axe and kills big black bird thingy eating garbage. Packer wins.

Seahawks against Redskins- Seahawk is another big bird thingy. It does not eat garbage, but is very loud. Redskin is two legger with a rash. Seahawk flies while Redskin scratches. Seahawk wins.

Sekond Round:

Broncos against Bengals- Broncos is bigger horse, but Bengal still a cat. Bengal wins.

Ravens against Patriots- Raven is still big black bird thingy. Patriot is....ummm....not. Raven wins.

Packers against 49ers- I dunno what a 49er is but I think that there are almost fifty of them. They from  California where all two leggers are lackto......um..laxtos...um.....can't have milk. They cannot have cheese. Packer wins

Seahawks against Falcons- Battle of big bird thingies. Bengals win.

Thurd Round:

Bengals against Ravens-Cat eats big black bird thingy.

Packers against Seahawks-Big Bird thingy cuts the cheese and makes lotsa noise. Seahawk wins.

Superbowl Thingy:

Bengals against Seahawks- Bengal eats Seahawk. Seahawk bones choke Bengal. Ivan eats both. 

Ivan wins.  

Don't say I didn't warn you.