* * * I fucking HATE IT when my cell phone rings and I answer it, and there’s no one there because it was a machine who dialed the number to call me, and since I answered the call, they have to transfer the call to a real person, and there’s not always a real person immediately available, and it REALLY pisses me off, so I always hang up. Hope it wasn’t important. Also, yesterday my cell phone rang, and when I answered, a man with a thick Indian accent informed me that he needed to speak with “the person responsible for the company web page”, and when I said nothing, he repeated that he would like to speak with “the person responsible for the company web page”, and I thought of having to slog through a conversation with this man to explain to him that there IS no company attached to any of the three web pages I own, and I thought further about how with the language gap it would not be an easy conversation, and so rather than having to deal with the whole fucking mess, I just hung up on his ass. What I should have done was ask “Which web page, please?”, because since I recently paid for another couple of years for this page, chances are good the url and contact information rolled across some telemarketer’s desk, and it would be kind of funny to force a stranger to say “bitchypoo”. That, or register.com was going to harass me about paying for robynanderson.com, which is up for renewal in a few months, and register.com just adores harassing the motherfucking shit out of me for months before the site’s expiration date. I’m sure it’s not the last damn call I’ll be getting from them.
A fellow volunteer bought this thing at Target, but her cats are too big for it, so she offered it to me. I have to say, it is a HUGE hit. I brought it into the house and left it in the hallway for a little while, and when I went to take it upstairs, Tommy was splayed across the top of it. When I took it into the kitten room, the kittens raced around like their tails were on fire, jumping onto it and then back off, racing around the room, climbing up the side, smacking at each other from various compartments inside it. They lurve it, and they of course knocked it over, so I solved that issue by putting the condo across part of the bottom so it would hold it in place, and it seems to work just fine.
Crazy Eyes say, “I am a fearsome creature.
Crazy Eyes say, “This are my bowl.”
“MY bowl. Mine.”
::slurpslurp:: “MINE.”
Crazy Eyes and Chompers McGee (aka Jake and Susannah) try to determine just who is the boss ’round these parts.
Roland goes for the deep sniff.
Susannah hiding under the bowl – fascinating to the other kittens, apparently.
Susannah partakes of some fine kitty pot.
“ALLS I WANT IS A SNUGGLE! WHY WON’T YOU GIVE ME A SNUGGLE?!”
“ZZZzzzzzzzz…”