I vacuumed the hell out of the house (well, the downstairs at least) yesterday, and not ten seconds after I put the vacuum cleaner away, Joe Bob and Sugarbutt got into an altercation in the dining room, and tufts of cat hair went floating through the house, messing up my perfectly clean floor.
I just cannot have anything nice, EVER.
Fuckers.
A smile for you 🙂
LOVE IT!
I just literally laughed about the poop spoon until I cried.
The best part of the story is one I forgot to tell. You see, Jake and Elwood were hanging around outside the guest bedroom door when I came out with the spoon full o’ poo. Every once in a while, if the fosters don’t finish their plate of food, I’ll let Jake and Elwood eat it, so they’ve gotten it into their heads that every time I come out of that room, there’s a very strong possibility that I’ll have FOOD for them. I walked out of the room with the spoon in my hand, and they saw that I was carrying something, and they started hopping around, CERTAIN I was going to give them some food and perhaps they might not starve completely to death.
(They are the biggest fucking hogs, these two.)
I thought for a moment of holding the spoon down for them so they could sniff it and give me the Face o’ Disgust, but even I am not that cruel.
In the picture of Rhyme, the wood grain to the front right of the picture is very similar to the striped pattern on his head. I bet you didn’t even do that on purpose, did you?
I assure you that on the rare occasion that something cool like that happens, it’s by complete accident. I am no photographer.
“and then it shit the bed”
You’d think I’d’ve heard this before now, but it made me LOL and spray breakfast all over my own computer. Consider it stolen.
Also, I would like to hereby formally request The Rest of The Story behind “earlier this week it came to my attention that I am having RAGE issues over the stupidest shit.” I love your pissed-off stories.
Oh, I don’t have any specific examples, just drama queen THE WORLD IS AGAINST ME temper tantrums. Like, I couldn’t connect to the internet for a little while and I was all bellowing at my computer, “OH OF COURSE THE INTERNET IS DOWN, IT MUST BE A DAY THAT ENDS IN Y, GOOD THING I ALWAYS PAY THE BILL ON TIME, I HATE OUR INTERNET PROVIDER I WISH THEY WOULD ALL DIEEEEE!”, when in actuality, our internet access has been down very little in the last few months.
Just, uncontrollable rage over the stupidest shit that even while I’m raging about it, the calm and reasonable voice in the back of my head is saying “You know you’re being unreasonable, you need to walk away and calm down” and my response is “SHUT UP YOU GODDAMN VOICE OF REASON I HATE YOU I WISH YOU WOULD DIEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
That sort of thing. It makes me a joy to be around, I’m sure.
I was stuck in St Louis for 8 days relying on free wi-fi sources for Internet. Robyn, you’ll be proud to know that, in their infinite wisdom, the St Louis County Library system blocks access to Bitchypoo, while McDonald’s does not. Btw, this batch of kittens is ADORABLE.
If there was one thing I could go back ten years and change, it would be my domain name. I get my ass blocked all over the place just because of the name of my site. I OBJECT. THE MAN IS HOLDIN’ ME BACK! (The other reason my site gets blocked, you’ll be amazed to hear, is because of the language. What the fuck, man?)
WAIT! Stinkerbelle isn’t givin’ you the stink-eye in that picture! Is she goin’ soft???
Nah, she was just taken by surprise. I’m sure that in the next second, she had a good Hate-on going. Although, now that I think of it, yesterday I leaned past her to open the blinds in the front room and she did NOT squeal at me and run off or squeal and swipe at me. Maybe she IS going soft!
Someone should tell Newt that he can have the even bigger box behind him!
Silly – he KNEW the bigger box was there, but that’s not the box he wanted, because no one was using that box. He specifically wanted Joe Bob’s box for the reason that Joe Bob was in it. Once Joe Bob was no longer in the box, it became much less appealing to Newt.
Oh My God. Now see, if I were you and I had this site, it would’ve ended right after “… small black bird with white speckles …” because I’d’ve been filling out change of address cards. Well, after I changed my pants, that is.
I think birds are fine IF they are sitting nicely OUTSIDE. Not inside. Outside. Not flapping. Sitting. A bird in my house? I can’t imagine it. Fortunately my elder statesman cat (who doesn’t go outside anymore because we are moving and I’m afraid that if he goes outside once we move, he will try to return home to the old house, 25 miles away, so we are trying to convince him he was never an outdoor cat) was never a crackerjack hunter so he only once in a while brought home a slightly stunned vole, and we always checked his lips before we let him in (the cat’s lips, not the slightly stunned vole’s lips) so nothing got in the house. (Run-on sentence, much? Geez.)
When we had a dog, many many moons ago, she once brought home a completely dead bluejay that she had not killed (Golden Retriever. incapable of harming anything) but had found and joyfully brought us. I hid behind a living room chair until my husband dealt with it.
I very much admire your quick thinking with the window. I’d still be cleaning my pants.
This comment made me laugh out loud for real. I should start doing like June and have a comment of the week!
(But I probably won’t.)
Newt and Elwood, huh? I never would have imagined them cuddling. You should draw up a chart one day of which cats will associate with which cats. For some reason I would like to see and know which ones have cuddled with which and which ones they want nothing to do with. Not including the fosters of course. Well, unless you want to lol
I shall work on this and post it next Friday!
Is Maura sitting on your purple velour pants or do you have a purple velour cat blanket? She looks cute and I agree she should rest up and hold out as long as she possibly can.
She was laying on/ against my purple velour pants. She seems to really like those pants, and I very well might just let her have the pants as a blanket. I’m all about making the kitties happy!
how on earth do you tell Rhyme and Corbett apart? Sure can’t tell from the pictures. They are adorable — tabbys are my fav too 🙂
I’ll try to get a better picture of the two of them, side by side, but in short this illustrates it pretty well. Corbett, in the back, has a lot of tan coloring in his face and body. Rhyme is all dark brown. Both are equally squeezable, though. Just looking at that picture makes me want to go pick them up and squeeze the stuffing out of them!
I just overheard one of my co-workers telling another that if you have over 2 cats, you qualify as a “crazy cat lady”. If that’s true, you’re in deep trouble!!! ha ha ha 🙂
and
I object. I have 3 cats but am not crazy; I swear!! I’d say over 5 is “CCL” material. 😉
I don’t know what the number is that determines crazy cat lady-hood, but I’ve got to say that two can’t possibly be the number. That’s hardly even cat PERSON level, right there. Five is probably approaching the crazy cat lady neighborhood, but it’s a moot point for me – I don’t think anyone would deny that when you have cats numbering in the double digits, you’re loony for cats. We hopped on that particular crazy train lonnnnnnnnnng ago. I can live with it. As long as you don’t walk into the house and say “Holy CRAP, how many cats do you HAVE?” from the smell, I’m okay.
I’ll one-up your poop story with tales of Mia, our very timid little kitteh.
First vet visit after adopting her. Drive over is ok. Driving home we got less than a mile from vets office and I smell something nasty. Realize poor girl has peed and pooped in the carrier (luckily a hard one). Husband is driving so he pulls over and we grab some napkins that we luckily had in the truck to take care of the mess. He takes off his Tshirt so I can put it in the bottom of the carrier because she was a bit wet from the pee and we only had so many napkins.
Second trip go through whole vet visit and I’m paying the bill. Look over at Mia and she’s cowering over in the corner of the carrier. She’d peed and pooped again. One of the vet techs cleans it up saying they’re use to it.
Third trip (yes there’s more) on the trip over less than two blocks from home, you guessed it pee and poop! Hand the “sample” over and tell them it doesn’t get much fresher than that! It was still warm!
After that trip the vet gave us some sort of anxiety drops to try next time to maybe prevent it. Keep your fingers crossed. Beyond that I’ll go armed with paper towels and plastic bags!
Two years ago, I took Kara’s babies to be spayed and neutered, and they vomited all over their carrier. I had nothing but one single handy wipe to clean up the mess. Since then, before I walk out the door with a carrier of kittens, I make sure I have a big handful of dry cleaning rags and a baggie with a couple of damp cleaning rags as well. That saved me last summer when I took some of the True Blood 6 to the vet, and someone pooped in the carrier. Cat poop can be one of the most vile substances on earth, only outnastied by cat pee.
Wait. Why do I have so many cats again?!
Bolitar’s all “What, lady? What you want?”
Rhyme on my slipper.
Reacher seriously needed those eye boogers cleaned off his face. I cleaned them off, then called him “Boogers McGee” for the next few hours. I amuse myself far too much.
>
“Madame, I don’t appreciate your tone.”
Reacher and Corbett scale Mt. Carrier.
I’m beginning to think that Maura may even have a few more weeks before she drops these babies. I’m still not seeing or feeling any movement, and as Fred pointed out last night, Maura’s not nearly as huge and uncomfortable as Kara was the day we got her (which was also the day before she gave birth). Don’t get me wrong, she’s definitely getting bigger, but she’s got a little way to go, I think.
She’s LOVING the twice-daily canned cat food snacks and personal attention, believe me. Really, who wouldn’t?
Kara, peering over the end of my bed.
Previously
2009: I am the High Priestess of Litter Box Scooping, Pig Treat Making, and Kitten Butt Wiping.
2008: It took me a few weeks, but I finally finished The Washingtonienne and today I am announcing that bitchypoo.com, in conjunction with vituperation.com, is awarding The Washingtonienne the title of The Most Vapid Book of This Century.
2007: I was filled with a black hatred for the goddamn lights and my goddamn husband and every goddamn thing that ever was.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Another reason I love the man: he makes me laugh every day.
2003: I’ll tell you what, he’s lucky I didn’t go get the cleaver and chop that fucking finger right the fuck off.
2002: My mind is blank…
2001: It’s just the little things that get to me, y’know?
2000: Married people! Having sex in the middle of the day! What IS this world coming to?