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My sister took the best picture EVER of her cat Tigger, and then she sent it to me, and when I opened it, I laughed my ass off. She calls it “What Tigger will look like when he’s old and blind.”
As you can see, the love for orange kitties runs in the family.
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“Ah hets Nicholas Sparks. That sappy crap he writes mekks me so angry I gots to bite the Tommy on his neck. I hets Tommy. Stupid happy little porky cat. Who he think he is, all happy and purring and praising the lawd? Stupid Tommy. Het him.”
(Edited to add: Those are NOT MY NICHOLAS SPARKS BOOKS. They were in the spud’s bedroom; she borrowed them from her grandmother. I’m not a Nicholas Sparks fan. Repeat:
NOT MY NICHOLAS SPARKS BOOKS.)
* * *
Previously
2006: No entry.
2005: Always/ Sometimes/ Never
2004: Erin should be more concerned with the fact that he’s been killing people and burying them in the back yard and less with his lying.
2003: I believe there’s a seat in the ass-singe section with my name on it.
2002: Sucks to be her.
2001: “Fuuuuuuuuck,” he said.
2000: Don’t come back here looking for no entry, my friends.]]>