Tales From The Kibble Dish

The Golden Globes

2009-01-12T19:30:00.000-08:00

My Mom said she was excited 'cause there was this award show coming on called The Golden Globes. Why the hell would I want to watch a show where they congratulate countries and continents and hemispheres and stuff like that? And the globe isn't gold, it's green and blue.

But then my Mom said it was about movies and I sure do like movies, so I said, okay, I'll watch it, but there better not be any lame-o dance routines choreographed, as always, by Claire Huxtable's sister. Or pictures of dead people where the audience claps. Why are you clapping? Are you glad they're dead? Probably, because they always clap more loudly for the more famous people, which means they're really really glad that their competition is gone. Boy, Hollywood sure is cut-throat.

So J-Lo pops out (literally and figuratively) to tell everybody to shut up and pay attention to her 'cause she thinks she's still relevant (yeah, that Skeletor dude really helped your career, didn't he?). She certainly has lived up to her last good movie role: Out of Sight.

Then they gave Rose from Titanic an award for crying in a movie. If you cry a lot, or play a retard, you usually win an award. Look at Mickey Rourke: he fried his brains stupid and, sure enough, he won an award. Tracey Morgan looks and talks like a retard, and 30-Rock wins, too. There are exceptions to this rule: Meryl Streep had to be mentally unbalanced to star in Mamma Mia, but no award for her. No, they gave it to Rose, again, for crying a lot. I cried when my Mom threatened to take me to see Mamma Mia, but I didn't even get a nomination.

And I stopped caring about the TV awards when Dr House didn't win. Cripple always trumps emotional train-wrecks. But I knew it was all crap when Monk didn't even win. If OCD and Crippled-Drug-Addict can't beat Retro-Chain-Smoker, then something's not right. But then again, these awards are given out by foreigners. Have you ever met a foreigner that didn't smoke? FIXED! FIXED, I tell you!

Consider this: Which movie took the most awards? That's right: Slumdog Millioniare. Made by a foreigner, set in foreigner-land, and starring foreigners. And they won awards from....the Hollywood FOREIGN Press. Oh, yeah, let's see...who won Best Actor in a Comedy? Colin Farell, an IRISHMAN in a movie set in BELGIUM. Where the hell is Oliver Stone when you need him!?

Need another example? Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Tom Wilkinson. A BRIT nominated for playing two famous...Americans. A BRIT won an award for playing a FOUNDING FATHER. That's treason!

Speaking of aliens, they gave the lifetime achievement award to Stephen Spielberg, a man who's last couple of movies have been made and are about Europe: Saving Private Ryan (Europe), Schindler's List (Europe), Munich (Europe). Even his older movies are all about non-Americans: E.T. (alien), A.I. (again, aliens), Close Encounters (aliens). Heck, even Dr, Jones taught in England and never went exploring for treasure in the good old US of A (instead, we get stuck with Nick Cage....). And so the Hollywood FOREIGN Press gives it's lifetime achievement to a man who films all things not-American.

Now, the one thing they got right, in this humble cat's opinion, was giving Heath Ledger the award for Best Supporting Actor. But then again, Heath was an Aussie.So I guess I'm looking forward to the Oscars in hopes that the US brings home some gold. I'm rooting for The Dark Knight. Oh, wait. Damnit! Even something as American as BATMAN has been taken over by foreigners! The director's a Brit, the butler's a Brit, even BATMAN HIMSELF is a Brit.

I guess I'll just wait for the Kid's Choice Awards on Nickelodeon: I'm pretty sure Miley Cyrus will win something.....

Christmas Greetings!!

2008-12-05T09:58:00.000-08:00

Yessireebob, Chistmas is coming! And I sure have been a good boy this year (depending, of course on your perspective). How have I been good? I haven't exacted revenge on a certain rat-bastard meerkat from Down Under (although I sure would like to light his yule log on fire), so I'm thinking that keeps me in the "good" category. Chasing my sisters is not being bad (again, perspective). I'm keeping them excersising and making making sure they don't get fat. It's charity work, and this season is all about charity.

And presents.

And baby Jesus, who, by the way, happens to have a birthday on Christmas (how cool is that?). My birthday is Tax Day. Bummer.

Yes, this is the time of year that we commemorate the birth of the Christian savior by lining up at a Wal-Mart at four in the morning to trample people to death for a 10% discount on Isotoner slippers that will never be worn after December 26th. (I wonder, did the people who trampled that poor fellow thank him for dying for their sins?).

Jesus did not get Isotoner slippers for his birthday, I'm pretty sure (he lived in the desert, after all). But like Isotoner slippers, Jesus, too, got some pretty crappy and useless presents for Christmas/Birthday. What is a newborn baby gonna do with Myrrh? What the hell is Myrrh? It sounds like the noise my Dad makes when he snores. And Frankenscence. Was that to cover up the smell of baby Jesus' smelly diapers? Or the smell of a manger in general? Oh, but he did get Gold, setting up the trend of blinging out your baby (Jesus is my homeboy!).

Did you notice that in the Bible story of this "birthday party" there was no mention of cake and ice cream, or streamers, or pin the tale on the donkey? And they had real donkeys! This was a total lame-o get-together. Something tells me that, if the Son of God is born, and the supposed Wise Men are repsonsible for the gifts, they'd really try and jazz it up, like one of those Super Sweet 16 paties you see on M-TV. If little priss-ass McKenzie in Dallas, Texas can get a Lexus convertable, the Son of God should at least get his own donkey, for Christ's sake!

Birthday parties in Bethlehem blow.

Did any of those Wise Men bring Joseph a flask? If any one should have gotten on Santa's good list, it was Joseph. He put up with a lot. That, or he was a total wuss push-over. Then again, he really wouldn't stand a chance against God in a fist fight or duel. Poor guy. Pass him a mug of Peppermint Schnapps.

Did you know horses like peppermint candies? It's true. I saw it on "Girls Next Door" when they went to the Kentucky Derby.

History has shown us what a crappy Christmas can do to a fella. Jesus didn't get any cool toys to play with, not even a dradle. So to make up for it, we over-compensate and buy lots and lots of useless crap and make lots of treats, and kill trees. Not sure about that last thing, though it is a German tradition, and those Germans sure are weird. I wonder if Christmas trees in Germany are wrapped in leather whips and chains?

But more important than what's on the tree (usually a cat climbing it) is what's under it. And this year, I'm hoping for a boat-load of loot from the fat man himself.

I totally deserve presents. I'm doing well in school (I haven't been to the principal's office all year), I bring Dad his flip flops every morning, and I don't order pay-per-view porn. I think I should get everything on my list, but just in case, I've got a list below for anyone who wants to get me a little something. Just don't get me Myrrh, please.

Or fruitcake.

Or Isotoner slippers. Have you ever seen a cat in slippers? There's a reason why you haven't.

Cats don't need slippers 'cause we're quiet and stealthy and that sure is gonna come in handy when I sneak up on Santa Claus coming down the chimney to leave me my loot. I sneak really good. Not like my brother, Elvis, who has a club foot, or paw, I guess you could call it. He sounds like Long John Silver when he walks, except for the parrot and saying "Argh!" all the time.

Everyday is like Christmas for pirates.

I'm gonna wait and wait and this year I'll stay up all night so I can see Kris Kringle in person (that's his secret identity, like Clark Kent)(maybe Santa should get a red cape 'cause he's awfully super), and when I see him, I'm gonna share milk and cookies with him. White milk, of course. Dad says we should leave him a beer, 'cause Santa's got to get sick of milk at every house, but I say, how the hell can anyone get tired of white milk? It does a body good, and since Santa is fat, he needs something to do his body good. Maybe I should chase him for a while, like I do to my sisters. He can have the cookies. Sugar makes my hyperactive.

But I've got a question: if we're celebrating a birthday with this Christmas thing, then why doesn't Santa wear a birthday party hat and dress like Jesus? That would totally make more sense.

Anyway, here is my list and I look forward to receiving your magananmous donations to the Chicken Christmas Joyful Day fund.

Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday Jesus!

Chicken's Christmas List:

High School Musical Boxed Set DVD

Life-sized poster of Hannah Montana (or that totally sexy sultry strangely creepy photo from Vanity Fair blown up to poster size, minus the Billy Ray)

A Red Rider Carbine Action BB Gun with a compas in the stock

A copy of "Crime and Punishment" by Fyodor Dostoevsky, in the original Russian (first edition is not necessary, but thanks)

A membership in the Alan Alda Fan Club

WD-40

Singing lessons from Neil Patrick Harris

A cow

Peace, love, and understanding

Natural calamaty to befall Australia

A dolphin Mold-a-rama from the Zoo

Cracker Jack (there's a prize inside!)

A silly straw

Welding goggles

Seven shares of Purina stock

X-ray vision

"Heroes" to not suck so much anymore

A hacky-sack

Flying lessons

Chilly Willy cartoons to come back on TV

An i-paw

Real Estate

The Cubs to win the World Series

Caulk

Silly String, lots and lots of Silly String

Nitro-glycerine

A subscription to Playboy (for the articles)

One of those cool Life Saver books that lok like a book, but when you open it up, it's actually rolls of Life Savers. I don't want the candy, I just think it's cool.

A martini, shaken, not stirred

Tickets to La Traviata

Shrinky Dinks

A new girl in class to go gaga for

A new girl in class to go gaga for me

Zips, blue with four white stripes, not three, but four (the more stripes you have, the faster you can run...)

Carmex

Turtle Wax

Tickets to the Obama Inauguration

The Darth Vader Toaster (it makes burns the face of Darth Vader onto your toast!!!)

Afro-sheen

A saddle

A subscription to Sky Mall magazine

Spidey-sense

"Tyra" to be cancelled

A pink flamingo (plastic, please)

Cash (when all else fails, it's great to give cash $$$$$$$$$)

Sorry, it's been a while....

2008-11-13T09:26:00.001-08:00

Oh, heck,I’m real sorry...

It sure has been a long time since I've written anything, and I know there sure are a lot of people out there who are wonderning, what the heck happened to Chicken? Did he finally get eaten by a giraffe? Did he get locked up for erasing a certain Australian meerkat off the face of the earth? Did he get abducted by aliens and is now enjoying a tasty Reese's Pieces existence?

No, I'm okay. I've just been busy. Takin' care of my Dad.

See, my Dad went back to school, and it's been, like, a hundred years or so since he went, so he's gotta get re-acclimated, and that's where I come in. I've been tutoring Dad in the ways of the schoolroom. I don't want him to get laughed at (at least if I'm not there to see it). So I've been helping him with his homework (no TV 'till it's done), packin' his lunches (only one Little Debbie snack cake per day or you'll have no dessert by the end of the week!), making sure he gets up on time (which is why I tell my Mom not to clip my claws).

It sure is time-consuming being a Mom to my Dad. And since my Dad is old and forgets things, I have to quiz him on what he's read or learned in class.

He's learning some weird-ass stuff, let me tell ya. There's this guy named Neat Chi and he believes that everyone can be Superman but he went crazy after saving a horse from dying and never got to fly. And then there's this guy named Playdoh and he lived in a cave and he said we all live in caves, but I'm guessing this guy lived a long time ago, or is Batman, 'cause I don't live in no cave. I did live under an underpass, though, when I was a baby...

Dad sure is learning stupid stuff. But he's got this other class where he gets to take pictures all day long, but he's screwing that one up, too, 'cause I haven't seen one pasty nude model come lay on our sofa yet. Dad's such a loser....

Oh, and he's takin' this class on the government, so I'm hoping he'll get to bring home some of that government cheese one day. I sure do love cheese. It's made from milk, and milk does a body good.

So sorry if I haven't had time to write any reviews or tell you about my awesome trip to New Orleans, but I will soon, I promise. Meanwhile, who the hell is gonna help me with MY homework? Geesh.....

The coolest person in the universe

2008-10-19T23:21:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's taken me so long to write, but I've been pondering something that has left me with no good answer:

Is there anyone in the universe more cool than Han Solo?

I mean, really?

Sure, there are a lot of bad-ass mo-fos out there, but no one matches the utter coolness of the bad boy of the galaxy. Lando Calrissian may be the pimp of the galaxy, but not the coolest guy in the galaxy. No sir, not by a long shot.

Tell me, are any of these peeps even close?:

James Bond (cool gadgets, but he doesn't end up with a princess, does he?)

Captain Kirk (I don't think the Enterprise made the Kessel Run in less than five parsecs...)

Cap'n Mal (Han flies his own ship, he don't need no stinkin' crew)

Barack Obama (that's HAN Solo, not Hussein Solo)

Cool Hand Luke (Newman never got frozen and thawed out of carbonite, did he?)

Dirty Harry (Han carries a 350 Magnum LASER pistol)

Frank Sinatra (Han Solo is NOT from New Jersey)

Jello Pudding Pops (would melt on Tatooine)

Colt 45 (the gun AND the beverage)

The Spanish Inquisition (If Han doesn't believe in the Force, he sure as hell don't believe in God)

President John Tyler (Han isn't a creepy pedophile that marries a girl half his age and then has 11 kids with her and gets ex-communicated from his political party)

Hugh Hefner (Han would have been able to give Holly Madison a baby)

Gene Simmons (although they both love money, Han Solo has great hair)

Richard Simmons (Han Solo does NOT sweat to the oldies)

Sharks With Freakin' Laser Beams (Chewbacca would eat them right up)

Sawyer from Lost (Han Solo is a con man with a bounty on his head)

Captain Crunch (Han Solo does not get soggy in milk)

Kirk Cammeron (Han Solo does not get growing pains)

Elvis Presley (Han Solo would not die on the shitter)

Stephen Colbert (Han Solo's pistol was exhibited at the Smithsonian long before Colbert's portrait)

Sam Elliot (Han Solo would never drink Coor's Light)

Harrison Ford (Han Solo would never partner with Josh Hartnett for anything)

So if you think you know someone or something cooler than Han Solo, let me know. But remember, I'm only gonna live for another ten years or so.....

I'm really really really really really really sick

2008-10-06T00:16:00.000-07:00

I've got a really bad head cold. My eyes are squirtin' out eye boogers, my nose is sneezing out kitten boogers, and I don't wanna eat anything 'cause it all tastes like boogers.

You know you're sick if you got this many boogers.

But my Mom and Dad wipe all my boogers away, making room for the new boogers.

I sneeze so much and so hard I knock myself over.

All I wanna do is sleep. I don't even have the energy to think about school, or Millie, or smackin' around Bob the purple jingle ball.

My Dad is takin' me to the doctor tomorrow. He said if I'm good I could have a lollipop, although, cats and sticky things don't mix well. I just hope I get to see Dr. Huxtable. He's funny, and I sure could use a laugh. But not a big laugh, 'cause I'll probably cough up a lung if I laugh too hard. Or spew lots of boogers all over the place. And that just isn't very nice.

I just hope I get well soon. Being sick is pretty craptastic.

Oh crap, I gotta go. Too many eye boogers to see to type anymore. Stupid boogers.

Second Grade At Last

2008-09-11T10:39:00.000-07:00

This is what Moms are for: gettin' a cat to school.

The right school.

Steve Irwin Elementary, I'm home!

That's right, I walked my fluffy little butt right into those hallowed halls and straight to the Principal's office. I figured I'd be sent there for missing the first week and I had no idea of which classroom to go to. Thanks, Dad.

Mrs. Secretary walked me down to my new classroom, 'cause second-graders don't go to baby first-grader classrooms. We get to use brushes when we paint instead of our fingers, although I still have to use my paw. I can't hold sticks in my paws. That's why I don't eat Chinese food. Then again, that's probably why you never see Chinese cats: Eat or be eaten. If you can't hold a chopstick, then a chopstick will hold you. I sure hope my teacher isn't Chinese.

We walked in and I had a Mrs. Teacher. Not the same Mrs. Teacher from kindergarten, but a different Mrs. Teacher. This Mrs. Teacher is black, like my brother Tupac and my sister Stella. So I'm totally in with her. Tyler Perry rules!

Mrs. Teacher gave me a desk and I looked around to see if I saw Millie.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!

Millie's not in my class this year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shit.

Take a deep breath, Chicken. Maybe you can see her at recess or at lunch.

Okay, well, Jimmy the Monkey is here, which is cool. No sign of Gary the Gorilla, which is super cool. Wonda the Wombat is here, too. Mackenzie, the Poodle, check. Ollie the Octopus, good.
But who the hell are all these other kids and where were they last year?

So now I gotta get to know a whole new group of peeps.

Damn it.

Damn it all to hell!

Second grade is suckin' the big one right now, let me tell ya.

So anyway, Mrs. Black teacher said we were gonna learn about George Washington Carver. So she asked us if anyone knew who he was. I raised my paw.

"George Washington Carver is the president who chopped down the peanut tree, had false teeth, and ran our economy into the ground during the OPEC oil crisis of the Seventies."

I have never been stared at for so long in my life.

Mrs. Black Teacher sure does put her hands on her hips and roll her eyes a lot.

If I knew the real answer, I wouldn't need you to teach me, now would I?

Stupid public school system.

As soon as lunch time came, I sprinted like a fluffy bunny down to the cafeteria to see if I could find Millie. I looked around frantically. Then a light from heaven and a chorus of angels pointed the way to my beloved Meerkat.

Who was giggling and talking to some stupid boy Meerkat.

WTF?

So I went over and I said Hi, Millie. And she looked at me like she didn't know me for a second and then she said, Oh, this is my friend from Australia, Martin the Meerkat. We met when I went home for the summer to see relatives. He's going to be going to our school now, Chicken, isn't that great?

Son of a bitch.

Well, let me tell ya. This second grade thing is not workin' out so well for yours truly.
I have no idea what we learned the second half of the day. The only thing I learned was that I was going to win my woman back, no matter what it takes. Martin is going down, back down under, that stupid arrogant Aussie piece of Veggemite crap.

She will be mine. Oh yes, she will be mine.

After I do my homework....

Second Grade, again, maybe?

2008-09-09T12:22:00.000-07:00

Well, it's official: Dad is on my list.

After my Mom yanked me out of Catholic school (maybe 'cause they serve wine instead of white milk), I was all ready to get back to Steve Irwin Elementary.

Of course, Dad had to screw it up again.

I think 'cause my Dad is hooked on the new version of "90210" (even though it doesn't have Tori Spelling, which is okay, 'cause Dad watches her on the Oxygen Channel's "Tori and Dean.") he must have gotten confused between reality and the super sexy world of teen TV.

Although I'm only four years old, my Dad dropped me off at Sunnydale High.

Do I look like a slayer?

Well, I figured, if most American teenagers think that the Gettysburg Address is where Lincoln lived, then I should be able to handle it.

My first class is called Home Room, but it didn't look like my home. There weren't any kibble dishes on the floor, potty boxes in the corner, or Dad passed out on a couch. When they called attendance, the teacher asked if I preferred to be called Chicken or did I go by something else? So I told her that my Mom and Dad called me Chick-Chick, Chicken Pot Pie, Pot Pie, Chicken Little, Chicken Orville (but only when I'm in trouble), but if I could be called anything, I want to be called Buck Rogers. He was cool, drove a cool spaceship, and got to be with the chick from "Silver Spoons" so he probably got to ride that cool train that went through the living room. On the downside, he probably had to share with Ricky Schroeder. Or Rick. Or whatever the hell he goes by today.

Then one mean kid said, "sure, we'll call you Buck. Buck Naked! Look everybody, he's not wearin' any pants!" And they all laughed at me, but I just turned the other cheek, like Mr. Brady said you should with bullies.

And then I peed on his backpack.

I had a math class next. Did you know they don't use flashcards in high school? They should 'cause they were gettin' their numbers and their letters all mixed up. Since when is "X" a number? Was I gonna learn anything here?

So off I went to social studies. Only studies I saw were kids checkin' out other kids. The teacher said we were gonna learn about elections, and I said I didn't like that movie 'cause even though Tracey Flick made cupcakes, she was really mean. And what happened to Ferris Beuller? He was soooo cool. The teacher said we had to do a pretend vote but "American Idol" isn't on right now, so I was confused. And we had to do it with paper and pencil. How do you vote without a phone or texting? Geesh, this was weird.

Next, I had English. I decided to skip that class since that's what I speak and I didn't have to learn it. Instead, I took a nap in the teacher's lounge. It has a sofa that my Dad isn't passed out on.

Then it was time for lunch.

White milk! Score!!!!!!!

When I was eatin' my lunch all these cute girls came over and asked if they could pet me and they were real nice so I let them and then I got all tingly like when you climb the rope in gym class.

Ooh, gym class is next. But I didn't get to climb the rope, which I'm really good at 'cause I'm a cat. Instead, we played badminton, which didn't go so well. I was told to sit out after I ate the birdie.

So then it was time for science class. My teacher said we were going to talk about torque. I think I might have misunderstood 'cause when the teacher asked for volunteers to help with an experiment, I raised my paw, went to the front of the class, and horked.

I was sent to the nurse's office where they called my Mom to come get me.

So the next day, my Mom made it clear that Dad was NOT to take me to school but I was to have my brother, Po take me.

Po said that the American Public School System was in tatters and I would be better off in a more progressive learning environment. So he took me to this school called Monty Sorry. We had a teacher who had granola stuck in his beard and wore socks with sandals (like my Dad does when he drives his Volvo). His name was Mr. Teacher, but he said we should call him Buddy. He said we were gonna learn whatever I wanted to learn about, so I told him I wanted to learn about the inner-psyche conflict posed by Freud concerning the Id, Super Id and the Ego through careful analysis of Western Philosophical writing during the Enlightenment.

And where kibble comes from.

We got to take recess breaks whenever we wanted and we didn't need permission to go potty. We got white milk (score, again!) and we got to pick out a story for story time. I chose "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" 'cause caterpillars are the Transformers of the insect world, and that sure makes them cool. Moth than meets the eye!

I sure liked this school but I miss my friends and I want to go back to Steve Irwin Elementary and the Fighting Zookeepers. Those are my homies, and I need to be rollin' with them real soon. So tomorrow I'm gonna walk if I have to, but I'm gonna make it back to Millie.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with one paw. But my school is only a few blocks away, so I should be able to get there no problem.

Millie, I'm coming! Look out second grade, the Chicken is back!

First Day of Second Grade

2008-09-03T10:21:00.001-07:00

Well, summer's over and the time has come for little old Chicken to go to the second grade. I was excited to see all my old friends again, especially Millie.

But Dad totally screwed that up.

My Dad was supposed to take me to my first day of second grade at Steve Irwin Elementary. I had all the stuff to make me the coolest kid in the class: Hannah Montana lunchbox, Batman backpack, glitter glue, Trapper Keeper with a picture of the Jonas Brothers on it. My friends were gonna be soooo jealous 'cause I had all the best stuff.

But Dad screwed that up.

I know my Dad is old and crusty and forgets things. Sure, he's had some health problems, but I think he took one too many painkillers before driving me to my first day.

He dropped me off at St. Explosious Catholic School.

Before I could stop him, Dad drove away towards the local Walgreens and I was stuck at a school where I didn't know anybody. No Jimmy the Monkey, no Mackenzie the Poodle, no Wonda the Wombat, and no Millie the Meerkat.

Son of a Bitch!

So this woman, dressed up in the Catholic version of a bur qua (they call themselves Nuns or Wives Of God. So does that mean that Mormons really are the true religion 'cause God is a polygamist?), took me to my classroom.

My new teacher's name is Sister Christian, and my time has come, and I know 'cause I'm the only one. It's true! I'm the only one who doesn't have a blue blazer and khakis. Stupid uniforms. Cat's hate pants. We are fond of hats, though. Boots, too.

So Sister Christian told us the story of St. Explosious. He's the patron saint of suicide bombers, farts, fireworks, indigestion, spark plugs, Jimmy Walker, and pre-1990s cartoons. Then teacher asked us about what we thought God was. Thank goodness I don't have knuckles 'cause teacher sure didn't like my answer: There is no God, God is dead, so says Nietzche in "Also Spake Zarathustra," the penultimate tome on existentialism.

Sister Christian asked if I was Catholic, and I said no, I'm a house cat, and she said I would need to be baptised and confirmed. Well, let me tell you somethin', Sister, I do NOT get wet and I'll confirm that by gouging out your eyes when you try and get me anywhere near the baptismal fount. I will unleash the stigmata on you and your hands, eyes and feet will bleed so that you believe what I say.

Why couldn't Dad have dropped me off at an Egyptian school? I would have been revered like a god, just like C-3PO in "Return of the Jedi."

You would think that Catholics would like cats. It's in the name, for Pete's sake. CATholic, CATechism, InvoCATion. But, no. The Catholics like boxing, drinking whiskey, lighting candles, murmuring, and playing football. You'd think they'd like me 'cause I'm pale, red-headed, and always scrapping for a fight. They might be coming around. I was asked to be an altar boy. They said I would get petted a lot and I sure do like to get petted. So I was sent down to meet Father Goose.

He told me that the role of the altar boy was simple. I light some candles and hold the plate of wafers for him during church. First off, cats are afraid of fire, and besides that, I was told not to play with matches. And those wafers sure don't look like Nilla Wafers. Father Goose told me if I did my job good, he'd take me to his office so that he could pet me lots and he wouldn't have to share me with anyone, just me and him, alone, in his office, getting petted, a lot.

Father Goose sure seems nice. He even offered me a popsicle.

But I had to get back to my class or else Sister Christian would beat me senseless with a ruler.

There were some weird kids in my class. Mick the Mastiff, Siobhan the Sheep, Shannon the Sheep, Sean the Sheep, Seamus the Sheep, Guido the Goat, Giuseppe the Greyhound, Dominic the Donkey, and Ant'ny the Anchovy. I sat next to the sheep. Mastiffs, Mafia, and meow-meows don't mix.

Did you know that Jesus on the Cross is not a plaything and should not be used as an action figure during recess?

Sister Christian cannot fly.

Our homework assignment is to go home and read Genesis. Call me a cheater, but I think I'll just listen to their best album, "Invisible Touch" instead. Pretty apropo. I AM in the Land of Cunfusion.

Actually, I'm hoping my brother Po will take me to my real school tomorrow. I miss my friends. And I sure don't want to read the Bible. It's not a pop-up book, there are no car chases. If I want to read about a carpenter, I'll take on the Bob The Builder Golden Books collection.

We had to say a prayer before we left for the day. I prayed that I could go back to my real school. Steve Irwin is my god and I want to worship in his temple of paste and dodgeballs. Catholic school is like prison. Uniforms, glorification of torture (who really wants to look at a guy being mutilated on a cross wearing a crown of thorns with blood all over his face, nails in his hands and feet, bone-thin, half-naked, a look of absolute agony on is face? Real nice learning environment, geesh!), rampant alcoholism (they give kids wine!). No way. I want to go back to my daily dose of white milk, macaroni art, and Millie.

Peace be with you? I'll be at peace once I'm back to Steve Irwin Elementary passing love notes to Millie and watching Jimmy shoot spitballs at the back of teacher's head. Now that's what I call school! I just hope I don't end up in Mr. Principal's office for missing the first day. If I do, then you better sleep with one eye open, Dad!

Amen

Independence Day!

2008-07-03T15:36:00.000-07:00

Everybody loves birthdays, and I sure do love birthdays and today is the country's birthday so it's a pretty big birthday! It's the day that George Jefferson wrote the Decoration of Independence and told Curious George that he wasn't the boss of him anymore. And to celebrate we blow ourselves up with firecrackers and wear American flag bikinis. At camp, we honored our nation by watching an epic film about our most solemn holiday.

The great auteur Roland Emmerich has sewn together a tapestry of apocolyptic fabric to wrap us up in an imagined scenario of American bravado in the face of hostile interstellar insurgents. "Independence Day" scared the poop out of me! The jilted boyfriend from "Sleepless in Seattle" is the President!? Now that's scary.

So these big alien spaceships (that look an awful lot like the spaceships from the eighties mini-series "V") go to all the big cities in the world and the dude from "The Fly" is all smart and figures out they're big fat meanie heads and because of a convenient plot device, he's got access to the White House to try and save the world. How is it that every movie this fella is in, his love interest is totally a hottie? Although realism does creep in with the President character. You've got a young inexperienced fella with a slightly dumb look in his eye who only becomes popular after his country is attacked and he slips on a flight-suit.

And then Will Smith wakes up and he goes pee only he doesn't have any manners 'cause he pees with the door open but I guess it doesn't matter 'cause he's hooked up with a stripper who's totally hot and now my suspension of belief has been shattered because strippers never look like Vivica Fox (usually more like Redd Foxx...).

They try to say hi to the aliens but they totally screw up the whole "Close Encounters" light-show greeting and so the aliens totally go off and starts blowin' stuff up like it's Grand Theft Auto IV. I don't know how we're gonna win against them when we let Harry Connick, Jr. be a fighter pilot. We need Wedge! He's like, the only supplemental character to make it through "Star Wars", "The Empire Strikes Back", and "Return of the Jedi." Might as well put Harry in a red shirt and beam him up now.

Cousin Eddie from "Christmas Vacation" is still an alcoholic livin' in a trailer hammin' it up for comic relief. But this time his kids are Hispanic. National Lampoon's Alien Invasion...

Then the old guy from "Taxi" (no, not Jimmy Fallon) drives The Fly from New York to Washington, D.C. in less than five hours during a massive evacuation of the largest city in America. Then he just calls up his old hottie biscotti who just happens to be the aide to the President and she says, sure, come on over, and then he tells the President that he's about to be served a big ole glass of whoop-ass.

KABLAM! Every famous place in the world gets exploded!

Will Smith goes "oh no, you didn't!" and gets all Tom Cruise and gets up in his plane and fights the aliens (whose mini-ships look an awful lot like the Cylon ships in the original "Battlestar Galactica"...) and he shoots one down and goes running up to the alien ship and cold-cocks smelly alien dude and tells him "welcome to Earf!" Just remember that this is a movie and you're not supposed to welcome anybody anywhere with a punch in the face, unless it's a smelly alien that tries to blow you up. Or a giraffe.

They totally nuke Houston! That's awesome...

Holy poop! Commander Data is in this movie, only he's undercover for Starfleet 'cause he's got hippie hair and he's not in his uniform. The President tells him to show him the alien they captured and the alien makes Data talk funny and it tells them that they're all gonna die so Jayne from "Serenity" pops a cap in alien ass. The Fly gets drunk but it makes him figure out how to kill the bad guys and you've gotta be drunk to believe what he comes up with. The aliens must have built their spaceships with parts from old Apple computers 'cause The Fly just plugs his laptop right into the dashboard of the mini-ship they captured and can read all their computer screens and everything.

Deus Ex Macintosh.

So The Fly and The Fresh Prince of Bellair go up into the mother ship and "give it a cold" and it explodes in a big giant green Nyquil explosion and Cousin Eddie flies up the alien ship's butt and constipates it into oblivion. And all this great stuff happens coincidentally on the Fourth of July. It makes sense, though. Lots of explosions, hyperbole, and Will Smith. We just can't have a Fourth of July weekend now without a Will Smith vehicle to drive our patriotism. I'm sure Founding Father Gomez Adams would agree.

Fiddle-de-dumb is more like it....

2008-06-30T17:48:00.000-07:00

I just sat through the longest movie ever in the whole world 'cause my Dad says it's my Grandma's favorite movie and I sure do like my Grandma so I said, sure, I'll watch this movie, only I didn't know I'd be six hundred years old by the time it was over, and I still don't know why it's her favorite movie 'cause she's not from the South, she doesn't have a Mammy, and she hasn't gone crazy and killed herself.

"Gone With The Wind" is a story about history which is stuff that happened in the past and where people wore big clothes and hated black people. There's this whiny girl who sounds like my sister, Stella, and she wears a big dress and she's sittin' on a swing (I sure do like to sit on the swings, but don't push me too far, or I'll puke!) and there's these two guys and they're hittin' on her and even though one of them is Superman, she doesn't care about them, she just uses them for attention, like it's an episode of "The Hills." Her name is Scarlett O'Hara and she's at a party and there's this guy she likes, only I think he's kind of a wussy boy and looks like a fish, and his name is Ashley.

Hee hee, he's got a girl name...

All the Ashley's I know are girls. Actually, brainless, flighty girls. You know, like Ashlee Simpson and Ashley Olsen. And Scarlett thinks Ashley's stupid 'cause he's gonna marry his cousin, Melanie. I sure am confused 'cause they said this was takin' place in Georgia, not West Virginia, and everybody knows you can't marry your cousin or you'll have "special" children, you know, with like, three eyes or a proclivity towards drooling.

Anyway, Scarlett gets all drooly herself over this pasty floppy foppy poppy and her Mammy tells her to shut the hell up, only I don't think that's her real Mammy 'cause they don't look related at all (bad casting). But Scarlett sneaks downstairs at the party during nap time (doesn't she know that nap time is the best time of day, other than snack time, or playtime, or petting time, or "So You Think You Can Dance" time?) and spies on her man, but instead she gets caught peekin' at Rat Butler. If she's so rich, why's she lookin' at the butler? She follows Ashley into a room and she tries to kiss him and get him to break up with his girlfriend only he won't 'cause he's a "gentleman" and he leaves and she throws a vase across the room (and she doesn't even live there and she's throwing around Ashley's stuff so I really don't think she respects him or she wouldn't break his things) and Rat Butler pops up from behind the couch and he laughs at her 'cause she's a whorin' fool and he tells her to carry a handkerchief only everybody knows only Grandmas carry hankies and usually up the sleeve of a sweater, so I'm thinkin' she's not gonna listen to him.

Then the War starts (bang a gong, it is on!) and our little Harlot O'Hara grabs the ugliest guy she can find and asks him to marry her. It's like the Bachelorette without a hot tub. But her new husband, Charles Hamilton, dies of ammonia and so now she has to wear black but this was before the days of the little black cocktail dress, so it's not as kinky as it sounds. She goes to this dance to raise money for the soldiers and Melanie (uh, she married that Ashley fella) she gives her wedding ring to "the cause" and a light from heaven shines down on her and she glows like a saint and she becomes the paragon of altruism for the remainder of this historically inaccurate portrayal of Southern hegemony. So Scarlett says, me too and gives her ring to 'the cause' but Rat Butler just laughs at her and then he bids on her like a white-slave whore in an Amsterdam shop window. But they just dance, and not even a cool dance, like a crump routine or anything, just some lame square dance. They don't even do square dancing on "Dancing With The Stars" for Jimminy Christmas sake! So far, the South sucks.

Suddenly it's Christmas and even though it doesn't snow in the South you think they'd make an effort to make it look a little Christmasy. Put up some tinsel, or blinky lights, or inflatable snowmen. You gotta cheer up those troops! Someone tries to cheer up the troops by donating money to a hospital, but she's a professional whore (unlike that amateur Scarlett) and her name is Belle (like in "Beauty and the Beast" which is a great movie 'cause the candlestick talks and he sounds funny 'cause he's got an accent, but that's not the candlestick's name, Belle. The girl in the movie is named Belle, only she's not a whore) and Belle is a friend of Rat Butler's and she's only trying to help but all the old biddies, they turned their noses up at her like she was a whore or something (that's called irony) but Miss Melanie, she of the unfloundering great benevolence, takes the money anyway and smiles at Belle and for a moment, all is right with the world.

Then BAM!!!! Sherman Helmsley attacks the city and Scarlett goes running off into the crowd and she sees Big Sam who's one of her slaves and instead of smackin' her white privileged head with the shovel he's carrying and running away in the midst of chaos and confusion, he just tips his hat and tells her that her Mom is dying, and then just saunters off with his gang of friends.

Cap'n Butler to the rescue! He swoops her up and carries her off but she's gotta go get Miss Melanie who's home all knocked up and ready to pop only Prissy, the Paris Hilton of slaves, don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies and she just wanders around pretending she can sing and Scarlett slaps her like every red-blooded American wishes they could slap a Hilton. So suddenly there's a baby only I don't remember seeing the stork (maybe he got captured by the Yankees. And why are all these people so afraid of some baseball players?) and they all load up in a cart and they go off to find Tara Reid only I don't know what she can do for them. But before they can get where they're going, Rat Butler dumps their butts on the side of the road and goes off to be war hero instead of Scarlett's lapdog.

When they get home, it's all ghetto and looks like a crack house but they go inside and they find her Dad only he's gotten goofy and her Mom is dead and they don't have anything to eat and Scarlett goes out into the field and finds a carrot in the ground and eats it like Buggs Bunny but she doesn't say "What's up , Doc?', she just whines about never going hungry again. Go to the store and buy some groceries, sheesh! Apply for food stamps! Go get a job! Tears don't pay for food!

Intermission (why such a fancy word for "pee break"?)

Scarlett starts puttin' the house back together when a damned filthy Yankee sneaks into the house and tries to steal her stuff but she shoots him in the face like a smooth-ass gangsta and buries him in the back yard like dog buries a bone (cats don't bury anything except their poop so I don't really understand this metaphor).

Then the war is over and the Yankees won and now she owes them some money only she doesn't have any so she steals Carol Burnett's idea and makes a dress out of the curtains and goes to see Cap'n Butler who turned out to be a crappy war hero 'cause he's in jail now. He's got all his money tied up in off-shore accounts so she asks her sister's beau to marry her (who I thought would be named JR 'cause her sister is Sue Ellen, after all) She wants all his money and he says yes 'cause he's a Kennedy and we all know which head Kennedy's think with around women. She totally dissed her sis! But he's a rich Kennedy (aren't they all) and they go into business with wuss-boy Ashley who survived the war because he was most likely mistaken for a girl and it's rude to shoot a girl, unless it's Angelina Jolie and your name is Brad Pitt and you just found out you've both been hired to snuff out the same target.

One day on the way home from the mill she owns, Scarlett is attacked by a band of ruthless paparazzi and so Ashley and Rhett and Frank (that's our Kennedy friend) go out and try and beat the crap out of these guys only they get their butts handed to them 'cause Ashley gets shot and Frank is killed. So now that she's single again, little miss Erica Kane gets married again, only this time to Cap'n Butler. He builds her a McMansion in the 'burbs and they have a kid and name her "Bonnie Blue" which is, like, a stupid name 'cause when you name a kid after a color, you're just askin' for trouble (it's not like Pink is an easy listening artist...). Scarlett has everything so naturally she still wants her little girly-man Ashley. Makes as much sense as Ethan Hawke cheatin' on Uma Thurman with that cow of a nanny (and cows make terrible nanny's 'cause all they do is eat and fart and why pay someone to do that, unless they're gonna be on "Big Brother"?). So Rat Butler decides to take his woman! And he carries her up the biggest flight of stairs in the world and then they go into a room, and then it's morning! I think I got a bad copy of this movie 'cause I didn't see what they did next! Whatever it was, it sure made Scarlett happy (maybe he bought her a Lexus 'cause that's what all the spoiled girls get on "My Super Sweet 16").

Rat Butler decides to go on vacation to London with Bonnie (I totally would have taken her to Disney World...it's only one state over!) but she hates it and wants to go home (totally should have taken her to the Magic Kingdom...) and so they go home and when they get home he says he wants to leave again only she says he can't cause she gonna have a baby (maybe this time I'll see the stork come) only they both wish they weren't having a baby so Rat Butler jinx's her and she falls down the stairs. Then, 'cause karma is a fickle bitch, Bonnie gets killed when she falls off her pony. If she had gotten a My Little Pony instead of a real one, this wouldn't have happened, and then Rat Butler goes and shoots that poor pony! What the hell kind of horror movie is this!? I guess if you're evil enough to own slaves, shootin' a pony is nothing.

Then Melanie gets sick, again (it's like an episode of "House" with this woman) and she dies and Scarlett realizes that now that she can have Ashley, she doesn't want him after all (who wrote this crap?) and runs home to tell Rat how much she loves him but he's totally sick and tired of her crap and leaves her ass. So she gets all whiny and is all, like, what am I gonna do? And Rat, total bad-ass that he is, just puts on his pimp hat and tells her "frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." Boo-yah, toast! Take that, you selfish hootchie cracker beeotch! Smack!

Rat Butler is totally awesome.

So, just like a Beverly Hills celebutant, she shrugs it off with a pithy "tomorrow is another day...." Nice attitude. Your husband just left you, you've had a miscarriage, lost a child, your only friend just died and you just toss off a casual colloquialism? I sat through a third of my life to watch all this crap happen to her and she's all, just, whatever? I hope when she gets upstairs her Mammy slaps the crap out of her.

I sure did like this movie, you betcha!

2008-06-22T15:30:00.000-07:00

Since I liked "O, Brother, Where Art Thou" 'cause it has George Clooney in it, I thought I should watch another movie that's got George Clooney in it, and I sure do like George Clooney 'cause he's Mr. Cool Hollywood and all the girls like him so if I can be like George Clooney then I'll be sure to get Millie this year once we get back to school. So I better watch some more George Clooney pictures. And if we was cool enough to be in one of the Coehn Brothers' movies, he's just gotta be in another one, right?

No, wrong! This movie, "Fargo", has, like, some of the ugliest people I've ever seen in a movie. There's this guy who wears a lot of brown corduroy and he's real funny lookin', you know, just, like, uh, you know, funny lookin'. And he gets paid by the dad from "Pleasantville" to kidnap his wife 'cause she left him to go live on Wisteria Lane, and he's funny lookin' too, only he talks, funny, too, you're darned tootin'.

So, um, the first five minutes are the only part of the whole movie that takes place in Fargo, so I really think this title was a misnomer, only, who really wants to spend two hours in Fargo? Heck, they pay people now just to stay and live in North Dakota. Those people must be real rich.

And the dad, his name is Jerry, he's a car salesman, so already you know he's a total loser, and he he must be a big Bill Cosby fan 'cause he wears a lot of sweaters. He's a big loser 'cause he's stealin' from his dad-in-law even though he lets him work for him and everything, so not only is he an ungrateful lyin' stealin' bastard, he's not even cooperatin' with him!

So instead of gettin' pancakes (which are really fun when you make a face on them with your bacon and eggs or you can make Mickey Mouse pancakes, or chocolate chip pancakes which is like eatin' dessert for breakfast, so I don't know why they didn't stop and get pancakes), funny lookin' guy and his friend, Mute, they um, go to Jerry's house and they see the Mom sittin' on the couch knittin' another sweater for Jerry and when she sees them standin' outside on the patio she doesn't do anything until they start breakin' the door and if she had half a brain she would have already been on the damned phone callin' the cops! They break in and she bites Mute and runs upstairs and he says "unguent" and goes upstairs to get some 'cause if you're already breakin' and entering to kidnap someone, you can kinda help yourself to whatever you like, I guess. When he's in the bathroom, she jumps out of the shower with the shower curtain on her face 'cause she must be kind of retarded or something (and I know she sounds retarded, too, but everybody sounds retarded from Minnesota, except Prince, 'cause he's a sexy motherf....). You can't run very far with a shower curtain on your face, so she falls down the stairs and now is conveniently wrapped up to be carted off.

But they get pulled over on their way out of town and funny lookin' guy tries to bribe the cop only the cops are totally honest there in Minnesota 'cause everybody is mostly like Garrison Keillor and just tries to be nice, unless you're a car dealer, a funny lookin' guy, or a mute. So funny lookin' guy, who doesn't have a name in this movie, so let's call him Steve ('cause he looks like he might not be from Minnesota and Steve isn't really a Minnesota-sounding name...), he shoots Mr. Policeman and this car goes by and Louie Anderson is in it and he gets chased by Mute and they get into an accident and he doesn't even call a tow-truck, he just shoots them instead (maybe his AAA membership expired and he couldn't afford a tow truck...).

There's this lady cop who's gonna have a baby and her husband hates her 'cause he makes her work in a dangerous job where she's gotta wear a lot of heavy stuff and he just sits home in his p.j.s and paints ducks, but he's nice sometimes and makes her some eggs, which is kinda Freudically weird in that she's got an egg growing inside her and she eats and egg which is her subconscious telling her that the egg that will become her young will eat her career unless she eats it first. But she pukes it up later, so, oh well.

The bad guys must have taken the kidnapping job 'cause they can't afford heat or color TV. But since they killed some people they have to ask for more money 'cause they know they're gonna have to get lawyers and lawyers are expensive and you can't really defend yourself in court if you get caught, unless it's like The People's Court, but I don't think they do murder trials, but if they did, boy oh boy would Judge Judy be fun to watch! Since they asked for more money, Jerry has to try and sell a parking lot, only his father in law isn't a bank, Jerry. Yeah, we're not a bank Jerry, so go throw a temper tantrum with your window scraper, Jerry.

Then Steve goes to a rock concert starring Jose Felicty Ono at a hotel and then does the boom-chick-a-boom with this bottom-barrel Barbra Streisand-lookin' girl and a big giant Indian comes in and beats Steve with a belt. He knows Steve is bad 'cause you only get hit with the belt if you've been bad, or you're German. So Steve calls Jerry and tells him to bring his money now only Jerry is a doofus and can't do anything right (remember, he's a car salesman) so Mr. Father In Law goes instead and he puts on his big green parka (he looks like a geriatric Incredible Michelin Man Hulk) and he goes up to a parking garage and after they argue, Steve shoots old guy but old guy shoots Steve in the face (must be a Steve thing 'cause that Steve guy on Jackass is always gettin' shot in the face with something). I don't think Steve was gonna give the mom back 'cause she wasn't even in the car so it was gonna be a bad day for Gramps anyway.

But it was a worse day for the parking garage attendant who gets totally blasted away by Steve and Jerry goes up tothe garage to see what's goin' on and he puts gramps in the trunk and goes home and acts like nothin' happened. Jerry must be in the mafia. They're dead-people-in-the-trunk-and-fuggedaboutit-people. You're darned tootin'.

For no reason at all there's this guy named Mike Nakamura who stalks pregnant cop at the Raddison and tells her he always liked her only I'm not sure I would be makin' passes at a married pregnant woman who is fully armed. And he doesn't even work at Honeywell. No, he still lives at home with his parents.

And then she eats at the Hardee's drivethru. I like Hardee's only they don't have Hardees out in the west where I live, they just have Carl's Jr., which is the same thing as a Hardees, only with bigger food.

See. I can just throw some randomness in the middle of my story, too...

Then pregnant cop lady visits Jerry at his work and he gets all upset 'cause he's cooperatin' here! He's probably stressed 'cause he went to work with a dead body in the trunk of his car. So he flees the interview, he flees the interview! Then pregnant cop lady takes the scenic way home and finds her tan sierra, tan sierra!, and sneaks around the house and finds Mute stuffin' Steve into the wood chipper 'cause it's easier to split a funny lookin' guy than it is a car. How do you split a car? Mute sees her only he doesn't register that she's a cop until she points to the badge on her hat, that goes with her cop uniform and the cop gun she has pointed at him. He throws a log at her (it's log, it's log, it's big, it's heavy, it's wood, it's log, it's log, it's better than bad, it's good!) and she shoots him in the leg. Then she uses the Force to lug his 260 pound murderous frame into her patrol car all by herself.

Jerry gets arrested in a hotel. Sure, he'll get charged with kidnapping, conspiracy, fraud, accessory to murder, but I think he might get child abandonment charges, too. Is anybody thinkin' about how he just up and left his kid at home all alone? It's not like he was Macaully Culkin or anything.

Then Mr. Pregnant Cop can't even celebrate the successful arrest his wife made. No, he's gotta be Mr. Center-of-Attention and brag about his stupid duck painting. Hey, your pregnant working wife just shot a guy and watched a funny lookin' fella get liquified before her very eyes. Way to comfort your meal ticket, bub. Awww, the heck you say.

At least George Clooney is gonna be in the next Coehn Brother's film, and not a funny lookin' fella in sight. They're cooperatin' with me! You're darned tootin'!

Top Gun, a revised review....

2008-06-18T11:32:00.000-07:00

Today I took the highway to the danger zone and watched a movie about volleyball players who fly airplanes. It's called "Top Gun" and it was super cool 'cause it's got a guy in it called Goose. Any guy named after a bird is okay in my book. Plus it's got really really important actors in it like Val Kilmer (only he's a guy, not a girl even though he has a girls name). He's important 'cause he's in all the top movies, like this one, "Top Gun" and "Top Secret".

So Tom Cruise is this pilot and he's all crazy and wild (like we couldn't figure this out from watchin' Oprah) and they call him a loose cannon, just like Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon (who really is a loose cannon). His boss is the dad from Steel Magnolias only he doesn't wear that stupid hat, just a stupid mustache like he always does. Thank goodness the planes aren't painted blush and petal. And the teacher is this Amish chick only Maverick, that's Tom Cruise, doesn't know she his teacher and he tries to pick her up in a bar by singing "You Lost That Lovin' Feeling". He doesn't even know her, how can he know that she lost her feelings? Mr. Rogers says you should share your feelings, so maybe she let somebody borrow her feelings and they forgot to give them back. And everybody knows you're not supposed to sing to Amish chicks 'cause their hairy old grampas will come out and yell at you in the barn...just ask Harrison Ford. So you becareful out there among the English, Tom Cruise.

Before he gets a chance to humilliate himself at the altar of bad karaoke he goes toe to toe with the Iceman (that's Val Kilmer). He doesn't look like the guy from Memento but he sure does have a short memory 'cause every time he talks to Maverick he tells him he's dangerous. Can't he remember that's the only thing he says to him everytime? He should tattoo what he says to his body so he can remember what he says and since he always seems to talk to Maverick in a towel in the locker-room, Tom Cruise could just read it off his body and then Val Kilmer wouldn't have to say anything at all, just do that weird bite thing he does to look fierce. Speaking of bites, these two were made for each other 'cause they both have enormous glimmery white shiny teeth. But Carrie-Anne Moss is nowhere to be seen in this bar so it should be safe to drink the beer. And it is a safe bar 'cause Patrick Swayze is nowhere to be seen, although something tells me he'd fit right into this movie...

So they get to the school and they play tag in planes 'cause tag is a fun game only you can't play freeze tag in a plane or you'd crash and they play some real hardcore tag 'cause there's no base to go to be safe from being tagged. I like playing tag at school 'cause it's kinda cool when Millie runs after me and tries to touch me and sometimes she doesn't mean to but she touches my tail and I get all fluffy and embarassed. But you can't touch tails in planes or you'll crash so I guess Maverick and Iceman will have to touch tails in the locker-room.

Then Maverick gets him and his Goose in trouble by playing out of bounds and Goose begs Maverick to play nice or he'll have to quit and go to med school and move to Chicago and get a brain tumor and die, and he's already had a crappy life being made fun of at college and being picked on by Ted McGinley.

So Maverick finally gets a date with teacher chick. To get ready, he doesn't go buy a new suit or get a haircut or nothing like that. No, to get ready for his big date he goes and plays beach volleyball with his man-crush Iceman. And he isn't even prepared for that 'cause he doesn't have his swim trunks on. He's wearin' jeans and everybody knows you're not supposed to wear street clothes during gym time. When he's done he doesn't even get all gussied up for teacher chick or nothin', no shower, no change of clothes, just wears those sweaty sand-covered jeans and he's a pilot for goodness sake! He's got those cool uniforms to wear and chicks love a fella in uniform, so he totally could have wowed her only he decides to use his Scientology brain washing to make her love him just like he did to Katie Holmes.

Then Meg Ryan shows up all cute and cuddly and thankfully reduced to a small supporting role as a supporting character's wife.

They play fighter pilot tag again only this time Maverick breaks his plane and they have to eject and he kills his partner and best friend Goose. This part of the movie sucks 'cause they killed off the only likable character! And now we're gonna have to watch Tom Cruise get all mopey and self-doubting and everybody knows this is so unrealistic 'cause Tom Cruise never has self-doubt. But this is the directors chance to show the human side of our hero so just roll with it...

So after the dad from Poison Ivy (don't tell my Mom I saw that movie, I thought it was an Uma Thurman spin-off movie) slaps Maverick around and tells him to stop being a wussy boy like Luke Skywalker, Maverick gets back in his plane and tries again to be Mr. Hot Shot (wasn't that Charlie Sheen?) only he freaks out and quits only he finds out that Iceman got named Top Gun instead of him, but he shouldn't worry about Val Kilmer gettin' more famous than him 'cause an Oscar didn't really do much for Mira Sorvino, either.

So he comes back and gets sent to the Indiana Ocean to fight bad guys. And they go up in the planes and there's a lot of flyin' around, for like six hours or something and you can't tell the stupid planes apart and Iceman gets in trouble and Maverick saves him 'cause thats what Tom Cruise does: "saves" people. There's no Death Star or anything to blow up so the fight ends when the Queen-like guitar solo starts and they land and Iceman tells Maverick "you can be my wingman anytime" and Maverick sets him straight and says "no, you can be mine" 'cause Tom Cruise is second banana to no one. And then they hug and dance and hug some more. For a second I thought they were gonna go below deck for a "debriefing."

But he ends up with his teacher in the end and I'm assuming she got fired 'cause that's totally against the rules, but his name is Maverick, so whatcha gonna do? Of course, this is bad news for Kelly McGillis 'cause she's never heard from again....

I don't think he's all that wonderful....

2008-06-16T14:52:00.000-07:00

Today we saw a movie that was made in the olden days, like a hundred years ago and it was called "The Wizard of Oz" and I sure do like wizards 'cause Michael Jordan was a Wizard and Michael Jordan is super cool. But I don't think he was in this movie, but he was in "Space Jam" and "Space Jam" is cool 'cause it has Buggs Bunny in it and I like bunnies 'cause I'm fluffy like a bunny and who doesn't love a bunny?

Glenn Close. That's who doesn't love a bunny....

So I kinda had to fast forward through the first part 'cause I think my tape was broken 'cause it didn't have any color. Besides, that Dorothy chick sings that stupid song about rainbows but she really doesn't have any idea what the hell she's singing about 'cause she never mentions the leprechauns or the pot of gold or the Lucky Charms or the Gay Pride Parade that are always at the end of the rainbow. But then it got scary 'cause a big storm came and her family just left her outside. Of course this was the Great Depression, so they must have figured if she got wiped away by a tornado then there'd be one less mouth to feed. So they go in the cellar and they leave Dorothy and Toto alone in the house. Someone better call the ASPCA on these cruel heartless bastards for leavin' a poor old dog out in a storm like that. Not that I'm a big fan of dogs, 'cause I'm a cat, but us housepets gotta stick together!

So she gets sucked up in the tornado, just like the dust in those Dyson vaccuum commercials, and she lands on a finalist for "What Not To Wear" and all you see stickin' out from the house is these feet and these Pippi Longstocking socks and it's totally not realistic 'cause there's no blood and guts or nothin'. Then these Oompah Loompahs come out and they sing to her 'cause that's what you do when a big giant house comes crashin' outta the sky and kills someone. No, no, don't call the Midget Police or anything, just go around handin' out lollipops to strangers. Stupid Dorothy. You're not supposed to take candy from Stranger Danger!

Then this big bubble comes over and a princess pops out and she's supposed to be all magical but she's an amateur 'cause she can't even help Dorothy get to a FEMA shelter. So she steals the dead chick's shoes and tells her to go running off on her own into the wilderness. Wow, there sure are lots of good lessons for kids in this movie!

So off she goes, no map, no GPS, no survival supplies. Soon she runs into a scarecrow who starts talkin' to her and she decides, sure, I'll dance with Stranger Danger and let him go with me off into God-knows-where. This is not a very bright girl. And she just keeps rackin' up men like a Tila Tequila wannabe. Next thing you know she's got a fella she doesn't know following her with an axe!

Then comes the totally humilliating part. There's this, um, lion, and he's a totall wuss-boy, only everybody knows that lions are not wuss-boys 'cause one just ate a guy in San Diego not so long ago, so this was totally unbelievable. But if he's gonna be all scaredy-cat, he picked a perfect group 'cause you got a fella with an axe who could totally just chop up that silly lion but instead he just shakes like Randall P MacMurphy gettin' electroshock treatment.

But then there's this scary Wicked Witch of the West, and I live in the west, so now I'm really gonna have trouble sleepin'! She rides a broom (saves on gas) and has superpowers like The Human Torch from Fantastic Four 'cause she totally throws fireballs at the scarecrow guy but they run away and they end up in this really nice field with all these pretty flowers and the Wicked Witch puts a spell on them and they fall asleep only I don't think it was a spell, I think it was all the opium they were snortin' from all those poppies. So instead of getting them into a drug-treatment program, the Bubble chick just makes it snow on them so that they wake up and they're all happy (duh...) and they get to the Emerald City and they go inside and there's a horse that changes colors just like My Little Pony. The Emerald City must be in California 'cause they stop and go to the spa and they have to go see the wizard to get their idea for getting home green-lighted (it is the Emerald City) so it's like goin' to the Skywalker Ranch to see George Lucas only he looks more like Karl Rove 'cause he's got this big head that looks like he has encephaelitus. The Wizard makes them go get the broomstick of the Wicked Witch, like Dorothy is his maid or something.

So they go to her castle and they sneak in and they get caught. And just like every Bond villian ever, the witch doesn't kill Dorothy immediately like she should. Instead, she makes Dorothy wait in a room with a big oversized game timer and her friends rescue her and they get chased all over. So the witch decides to set the scarecrow on fire, again (boring...) so Dorothy grabs a very conveniently placed bucket of water and throws it at the scarecrow only she misses from like two feet away and she hits the witch instead who melts away. Now I got two questions: if she melts when water touches her, then why are there buckets of water laying around, and if these blue buffoons are so happy she's dead, why didn't they just bust a coup d'etat on her butt? She had to use flying monkeys and an army of Booberry-lookin freaks to catch Dorothy, so it's not like they couldn't have taken her...

They go back to Greentown and give the stick to George Lucas only Toto proves that all those special effects are nothing but crap and so he gives the Tin Man a watch when he asked for a heart, gives Scarecrow a Community College degree 'cause the first thing he spouts about a triangle is totally wrong, and instead of slappin' the lion across the face and tellin' him to be a man, he stabs him in the chest with a pin. Then the wizard says they just gotta take a hot-air balloon to Kansas. Why the hell didn't he just offer her the ride in the first place? But he's an idiot and takes off without her so the bubble chick shows up and says she only had to click her heels and say some stuff and she could go home. So we've got a scarecrow who has gotten unnecessary multiple burns, structural damage to the Emerald City from the lion jumpin' out a window, another dead witch and the accidental eviction of the wizard from his hometown when all of this could have been averted had the bubble bimbo mentioned this in the first place.

After insulting the tin man and lion by playing favorites she clicks her way back to Kansas and to the black and white world, the Depression, the Dust Bowl, and the family that wanted her dead. I don't know why she went back.

Probably for revenge.....

More aliens!

2008-06-12T13:25:00.000-07:00

After a disappointing movie that was supposed to be about aliens I sure was skeptical about the next movie we were gonna see. The title sounds like it might deliver so I decided to sit my fluffy little butt down and watch this one. But if this one sucks, too, I'm gonna be really really angry and you don't want to see me when I'm angry....

Today we watched "Aliens."

There's this fro-wearin' chick who is sleepin' and she gets car-jacked by astronauts and when she gets home it's like in the future of the future and she has nightmares and the guy from My Two Dads tells her she has to go on a roadtrip with him back where she just came from only she doesn't want to go 'cause her old friend there got food poisoning and his stomach exploded (must be Mexico). But she gets tired of not sleeping and says okay she'll go. Then it gets really really scary!

She has this kitty cat and he's orange and fluffy and cute and cuddly and she just goes off and leaves him all alone with no friends 'cause it's the future and all his other cat friends are long dead and he's all alone and she doesn't even care about him, she just goes running off with some flannel-wearin'-mullet-headed-Helen-Hunt-co-starrin'-fool. Poor kitty! He's gotta be scared being all alone in the future without anybody to take care of him! Well let me tell you, I sure don't want to go to the future 'cause nobody loves kitties in the future and if you can't love a kitty then you might as well be a robot.

Oh, there's a robot in this movie and his name is Bishop and fro-chick, uh, her name is Ripley (believe it or not), she doesn't like him and she's mean to him. He should change his name Mr. Kitty.

So Ripley goes off with Mr. My Two Dads and he brings his pals the Marines 'cause they're gonna go see if some people are okay and they get frozen and they go in space and then they get there and they get unfrozen and there's a Marine who is a girl but looks like a dude and the guy who turns into a pile of poo in Weird Science is there and John Conner is there, too(I think planet LB 486 is a great place to hide from Skynet). So they go fly down to the planet and they get in a big black Hummer and they go try and find the missing people and they look in the basement and it looks like the inside of someone's nose 'cause the walls are all goobery and gloopy and they find the people stuck in the walls like big old boogers and when they try and get them out it wakes up the big bad aliens.

Woo hoo! Aliens! Finally I get to see aliens! Only these don't look like Ewoks at all. They kind of look like giant ball-peen hammers. They must be on Planet Home Depot.

So the aliens chase the marines back to their car and they get in and they get away and they go back to the base and they say, uh, let's go home now, so they call a taxi only an alien eats the taxi driver and the taxi crashes and they're stuck on the planet with the aliens that eat people and the pile of poo guy starts screamin' "game over man, game over!" And there's this little girl there who they found and her name is Newt and she says they have to go inside 'cause they mostly come out at night, mostly, only it always looks like night on that planet to me. It's always rainin' and foggy and cloudy and ugly. It must be the planet Oregon.

So, um, Ripley and Newt go take a nap 'cause when aliens are threatening to come and eat you, you should go take a snooze. And then Mad About You Guy puts some baby aliens that he found in the room with them only these babies aren't cute like Muppet Babies, they're horny babies, like the Spears girls, and they try and suck face with Ripley only she kills them and when the marines decide to punish mullet boy the aliens attack and he gets eaten by one anyway so I guess karma exists in outer space, too.

And then Newt gets sucked into the sewer and they have to go get her but the alien gets her first and turns her into a booger and Ripley finds her in this room with all these eggs, only they aren't fun eggs like the ones the Easter Bunny leaves, and she grabs Newt out of the snot and it wakes up the big old momma-jamba queen alien who looks like she's attached to a big giant large intestine, and momma yells at Ripley so Ripley decides it would be best to make this big super-sized alien mad and she totally burns all the eggs with a flame thrower, although I don't know why she didn't just shoot the momma alien with the big ole gun she had instead.

So they run to the elevator and it's not a very good elevator 'cause it doesn't have any music to listen to on the way up and momma alien goes up the other elevator and Bishop comes and rescues them at the last second. Ripley better like him now.

But momma alien got on the ship, too and she rips Bishop in two and he must be a kitty cat robot 'cause he's all full of milk and he explodes milk all over and it's really really gross. So Ripley gets in a robot suit and they fight and Ripley calls the momma alien a bad word and they fight some more and then Ripley sends momma alien packin' and boots her out of the space ship and saves the day.

Somebody told me that this movie was completely pointless 'cause in the next movie they kill everyone who makes it except for Ripley who should die anyway for leavin' poor kitty all alone in the first place back on earth. I mean, all that nonsense just to get killed in your freezer-sleep? Why did I waste my time caring about these characters if they die anyway?

What? David Fincher directed that next movie?

Oh, well, then that makes perfect sense.....

Where the hell are the aliens!?!?

2008-06-09T12:13:00.000-07:00

Camp is still going pretty swell. Today they told us we were gonna watch a movie about aliens and I like aliens 'cause my friend Julio the Ewok is an alien (that's a double entendre). And this movie was made a long long long time ago, like in the Seventies! It was even in color!

So right away I was confused by the title. What the hell kind of encounter is the "third kind"? The first time is when you bump into somebody. And the second time is when you get to kiss them goodnight on the doorstep. And my brother Grover said the third kind is when you make babies. What the hell does that have to do with aliens? And why are we watching sex-education films anyway? That's for health class at school. But I don't think we're watchin' a movie about aliens makin' babies 'cause my brother Grover said that movie is called "Species."

No, the movie we saw is called "Close Encounters of the Third Kind." I think it's one of those weird foreign movies 'cause the first ten minutes are just a bunch of beard-wearin' Frenchies runnin' around the desert pointin' at some old planes. Where are the cool aliens?! If the Frenchies are the aliens I'm gonna be pretty disappointed. They don't even have green skin or acid breath or anything cool. French people suck.

But then they show this boy in his room and a storm comes and makes all his toys come to life and he's not scared (he must be retarded or somethin' 'cause if my purple jingle ball, Bob, started movin' around on his own without me smackin' the crap out of him, I'd totally be hiding under the bed!) so he goes running after the bright shiny lights in the sky that made his toys move and he runs in the woods and his mom is totally totally freaked out and goes runnin' after him. Boy is he gonna be in trouble 'cause you're not supposed to leave the house without permission. And those bright lights in the sky makes all the power go out so Mr. Holland has to take time out from makin' his opus and go fix the electricity but he gets stopped on the railroad tracks and the lights give him a sunburn and he scares himself with his flashlight. So he wakes up his wife, who used to be married to Mr. Mom but I guess not anymore since he went and became Batman (maybe she couldn't handle the pressure of being the wife of a superhero, or maybe 'cause it was he was messin' around on her with Kim Bassinger), and he takes her out in the middle of nowhere to see the lights only they don't come and the little boy that ran away is there and his mom finds him there and she doesn't even spank him or nothin'!

Then they show those stupid French people again, makin' up sign language in case the aliens are deaf.

And then the mom, who we never see in another movie ever again, is home with her bad little kid and the lights come again and make everything in the house go crazy and the 'special' kid goes crawlin' out the doggie door. If she spanked him in the first place he never would have gone runnin' off again! And the lights took him away and instead of lookin' for him, bad mom just draws pictures of a mountain over and over again. Yeah, let's give her the Parent of the Year Award! Geesh!

Then Richard Dreyfus plays with his food and makes a mashed potato mountain and his wife gets mad at him for playin' with his food and settin' a bad example for the kids and she leaves his sad sorry butt. Now that's a mom who cares! And she goes on to get her degree and gets work as a laboratory assistant in Europe for this doctor who sews people up. She makes a difference! But Richard Dreyfus decides that since he has the house to himself he'll make a big old mountain out of mud in his living room and then he sees the mountain he's makin' on TV (he must be watchin' the Travel Channel) and the bad mom sees it too and they decide to go there like it's some singles resort but when they get there they get kidnapped by these army guys workin' for the weird Frenchies and when the hell are we gonna see any aliens!?! I've already wasted an hour of my day watchin' a movie about aliens that doesn't have any freakin' aliens!

So Richard Dreyfus and bad mom must have been gettin' bored, too, 'cause they go runnin' off up the mountain and when they get to the other side they find this parkin' lot lookin' place with all these lights and towers and people in uniforms runnin' around and then they open the Ark and all these ghosts escape and make the people in uniforms melt and....oh wait, wrong movie......um, they just sit up on the mountain and watch as the lights come back and fly all over and then they disappear and then the big giant spaceship comes, and boy isn't it about time!

The people in uniforms start playin' Simon with the spaceship, you know, that game where you have to match the lights and music in patterns? And then the big ship opens it's door and all these humas come out and I'm like, what the hell, these aren't aliens! But then little kid comes runnin' out and bad mom comes down the mountain and gets him and even after gettin' in Stranger Danger's spaceship, he doesn't get a lickin'!

Finally, some damned aliens come out of the ship. The first one looks like a cross between a spider and Shelly Duval and then all these munchkin alien kids come runnin' out and they aren't wearin' any clothes! You'd think if they can build a spaceship that can travel across the freakin' galaxy, they could make themselves a shiny silver jumpsuit. So Richard Dreyfus, who has given' up on tryin' to go home and get his family back (real nice level of commitment there) puts on a shiny jumpsuit (like you're supposed to have when you go space travelin') and goes on up into the spaceship and they close the door and they go home takin' Richard Dreyfus with 'em.

That's it!? That's how this stupid movie ends? The aliens don't try to blow anything up or take over the world or even leave a cure for cancer or anything? They just travelled all those millions and billions of miles for the guy who was in 'Moon Over Parador"?! They should have called this movie "Close Encounters of the Crappy Kind." What kind of loser made this thing anyway? They shouldn't let him make any more movies 'cause he doesn't know anything about entertaining or telling a good story. And he certainly shouldn't make any more movies about aliens, that's for sure.

I give this movie, and the director, a big "paws down."

Film Camp Still Rocks!

2008-06-04T14:27:00.000-07:00

I'm not mad at my Dad anymore 'cause film camp is way cool! Today we saw a movie that my grandpa thinks is one of the greatest movies ever made. But then again, my grandpa also thinks "Revenge of the Nerds" is an American Movie Classic. My grandma hates this movie, but she'll watch it anyway 'cause she's in love with Sam Godamn Elliott and he's in this movie. I think he looks older than my Grandpa but Grandma says he's sexy. You know who I think is sexy? Millie. I sure wish she were here to hold my hand and share my popcorn.

So the movie we watched today was called "Roadhouse" and it stars the King of Feathered Hair, Patrick Swayze. He's a bouncer but I never did see a trampoline in this movie. They should have picked a better title.

Anyway he gets hired by John Locke's dad (before he became a kidney-stealin' hustler) to get rid of the punks and riff-raff at his bar. He says he won't fly there 'cause flyin's too dangerous (that's called irony). He drives a super-cool Mercedes but he buys a old junker piece o' crap car 'cause he knows his pimped out ride is gonna get all jacked up by thugs and social misanthropes. And when he gets there a blind guy is singing and he's Dalton's friend, that's Patrick Swayze's character's name in the movie, and he's can't see 'cause he was blinded by Patrick Swayze's greatness 'cause you're not supposed to look directly at him or you'll never be able to absorb the awesomeness of the Coiffed One. He's so cool he drinks coffee instead of beer and he drinks decaf, too, 'cause he's already got the fire of a demon-slayer in him and he doesn't need any stimulants to get himself all revved up for a battle which happens as soon as he gets there and everyone starts throwing beer bottles and tables and chairs and he gets cut in the arm but he saves the day. Instead of goin' to a stupid hospital he just sews himself up. He's totally bad-ass!
Then he tells all the people who work at the Double Deuce, that's the name of John Locke's father's bar, that it's "my way or the highway!" And they say they thought he'd be bigger but he's big on the inside 'cause he's enlightened 'cause he does Tai Chi (he ties himself up after he gets hurt) and he gives them three rules:

1. You don't talk about fight club. Oh wait, no, it's, uh, "Never underestimate your opponent".

2. Take it outside. At the rate they're goin' there won't be any tables or chairs left to throw (and you're not supposed to throw things in the house...I learned that on the Brady Bunch) so he makes'em fight outside 'cause there's nothing to throw around outside except your ego.

3. Be nice. That's a good rule. I try to be nice to everybody, even Jimmy the Monkey, who I kept lookin' for in this movie 'cause he likes to throw things, but usually it's just poo and I didn't see any poo gettin' thrown around in the movie, but my Mom says this movie stinks like poo so I kept an eye out for him anyway.

Dalton rents a farmhouse and does sweaty aerobics outside and the Bad Guy, who's played by a guy who looks like the guy who played Ghandi but isn't (I like Ghandi and Pokey, they're stretchy and cool), he watches Dalton from across the river and I think he get's a crush on him 'cause he's a smiley and he decides to eliminate all his competition for Dalton's affections so he picks on all the other old guys in town by trashin' their stores and burnin' down their houses and drivin' monster trucks through the car dealership. Monster trucks are cool! But monsters are not cool. They hide under beds and rip off little boy's heads and eat them like Kit Kats, nibblin' around the edges before chomping down on the insides. Stupid monsters.

Then there's another fight only this time when Dalton gets hurt he goes to the hospital and meets Kelly Lynch who tries to look smart by wearin' big glasses and he makes his smooth moves on her and they boom-chick-a-boom and she ends up wearin' a dress that looks like a table cloth. Since he got hurt he decides he needs some help so he calls his best friend Sam Godamn Elliott and he comes and they fight some more and then this guy who looks like Lorenzo Llamas (but not as expensive to cast) makes googly eyes at Patrick Swayze and he tries to impress him by bustin' some sweet moves with a pool cue but Patrick Swayze just brushes him off and that really makes the generic Lorenzo Llama mad so he kills Sam Godamn Elliott, and I didn't know llamas could kill people, I just thought they spit at you. So Dalton and femmie-Lorenzo-Llamas-wanna-be fella get in to a fight and Patrick Swayze totally rips his heart right out of his chest with his bare hands! He must have learned that watchin' Kill Bill. So Bad Guy tries to blow up Kelly Lynch and that totally pisses off Dalton who goes and tries to kill Bad Guy but Bad Guy has henchmen that try and stop him but they are totally no match for the super sweet skills of the Dalton. He makes the fat guy scared with a stuffed polar bear! And then Bad Guy shoots Dalton but it's not enough to kill him 'cause he's, like, the hero and everything, and the hero never dies in the movies, so just as he's about to rip Bad Guy's heart out of his chest like he did to his man-crush, Bad Guy gets the crap shot out of him by all the old guys in town who decide they want Dalton to themselves, but instead he goes off and skinnydips with Kelly Lynch.

The End.

I don't think this was a very realistic movie. Kelly Lynch as a doctor, come on!

I can't wait 'till we watch the sequel starring Jonnathan Schaech, the former Mr. Applegate. She is totally only funny on "Married With Children."

Film Camp

2008-05-29T13:49:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think my Dad belongs in a home. He forgets things pretty easy, like the fact that I don't have thumbs and ya kinda need thumbs if you're getting sent to the Gene Siskel Memorial Film Camp. This doesn't mean I have a tumor, but I sure do love movies like "Follow That Bird" and "Alvin and the Chipmunks". It's gonna be cool gettin' to watch movies all summer. I just wish Millie was there to hold my paw durin' scary parts. I sure hope we don't watch scary movies 'cause summer camps so far have been scary enough.

So I got on the bus that was gonna take us to camp and we started drivin' and drivin' and kept drivin' and the next thing we know we're in the middle of the desert and all the windows are locked close and all of a sudden the ground around us disappeared and we were stuck on this one little piece of land and it was dark and there was lightning and I told the bus driver, hey Mr. Busdriver, you better get us out of here, and he got up from his seat and he had really long fingernails, just like me, and he was really ugly, like Mischa Barton's butt, and he came walkin' down the aisle ripping the seats with his claws and I said, oh boy, you're gonna get in trouble for messin' up the bus and he just started laughing and then Johnny Depp screamed and I looked out the window and we were at camp.

We walked the red carpet to our cabins. Our counsellor, Tripper, was kinda goofy but he said that the most cloying and flopsy-headed camper would get to run in the woods at the end of camp. I think he has his eye on Rudy the Rabbit. Of course, he has an advantage 'cause rabbits are flopsy, mopsy and cotton-tailed. Our other counsellor, Jason, doesn't say much but you can tell he's Canadian 'cause he like hockey. I wonder if he knows Terrence and Phillip and Bryan Adams and Anne Murray and Pierre Trudeau and Patrick Roy, except his name is pronounced "wah" not roy 'cause he's French Canadian and everyone know the French are difficult just like their movies which they don't even make in English! Stupid French people. At least they invented French Fries. And French Toast. And French Stewart (he was the only reason to watch "3rd Rock From the Sun).

After we got settled in we went to go view our first movie. I wonder if you've seen it. It's called "The Empire Strickes Back". Tripper told us it was the fifth movie in a series but it was the only good one so we were gonna watch that instead of the piece of, uh, poo (only that's not what he said) called the "Phantom Menace". As long as I get to watch movies I'm A-okay with that, so I got my popcorn and sat down and got ready to rate my first movie.

Well, let me tell ya, I wasn't so sure about this when it started off tellin' me it was from a long time ago. I don't like history movies 'cause it means I'm learnin' somethin' and it's summer vacation and you're not supposed to learn on summer vacation. But then there was this meteor that crashed in the snow and meteors are cool 'cause I saw a movie once where a meteor killed Tea Leoni which helped rid the world of another bad actress. And then there was this dinosaur thing and there was this guy riding on it named Luke, which is so cool 'cause that's one of the names of the Dukes of Hazzard and I sure do like that show. And then the Abdominal Snowman cold-cocked him and dragged him off like a liitle wussy boy and hung him upside down for no apparent reason and then Luke used the Force, which I found to be a convenient plot device on par with the ancient Sophoclean deus ex machina. But then he popped a cap in snowman's ass and then wandered off into a blizzard. Why the hell would you leave a nice cozy cave and go tearin' off into a storm? Well, he is from the desert, so maybe he doesn't really know what snow is.

So now he's totally screwed up Han Solo's plan to go make nice with Jabba the Hutt 'cause he's gotta go out and try and find him, all at the taxpayer's expense, on a freakin' taun taun 'cause even though their technology can let them make a jump into hyperspace they can't make a spaceship that can fly in the snow. So now you've got a dead taun taun for no freakin' reason and I guess the ASPCA doesn't have a branch on Hoth 'cause Han Solo just totally rips the poor thing open and stuffs it like a Chicken Kiev with pussy-boy Luke. Then they put him in a container of snot and then Princess Leia kisses him to make Han Solo jealous like it's an episode of Paradise Hotel. The bad guys attack them in giant metal buffalos and it makes their snow fort fall apart so they gotta leave only Luke has to be special and he goes off to a place he heard about from the ghost of a dead old guy (I think Luke might be bi-polar).

Han Solo and Princess Leia get chased into an asteroid field. My dad and my grandpa used to play Asteroids all the time on Atari but now my Dad just complains about how painful his asteroids are. They go into a cave but it's not a cave it's a big giant muppet mouth and they escape the big giant muppet and they fly right at the bad guy's ship and then they disappear only they really don't really disappear they just stick to the side of the bad guy's ship like a giant Stick-Up and then they float away with the garbage which is some pretty big garbage. I mean, what the hell are these Imperial guys eatin' that their garbage is as big as the Alluminum Falcon?

Meanwhile Luke crashes in the Everglades and finds a little green fella. He must be a Martian. Except My Favorite Martian wasn't little or green. Or funny. So Luke whines until Yoda, that's the little fella's name, says, okay, I'll teach you how to be a Jedi, only instead of taking thirty years or so like he did with Obi Wan Kenobi and Mace Windu and every other Jedi ever, he does it in like, one day, and I'm like, you can't just do a couple of flips, make some rocks float and come to the conclusion that your friends are in danger and then suddenly you're a Jedi Knight. No kidding they're in danger, you left their asses to go running off the jungle, you selfish whiny little Jedi-wanna-be bitch. And then to prove my point that you can't be a Jedi in a day, he can't even lift his ride outta the water! But he just whines some more so Yoda lets him go so he doesn't have to hear it anymore 'cause when you're 800 years old, who really wants to listen to that crap.
Then they show Han Solo and his posse goin' to see his old buddy Lando Calrissian, the baddest mofo in the galaxy. You know he's cool 'cause he totally macks on Han's girl, like, right in front of him. And he must have given her a spa package 'cause next thing you know she's all cleaned up with some new duds and a brand new weird-o hairstyle. It impresses the fellas enough that they take her out to dinner only Lando invites some other peeps to come, too. Han Solo tries to pop a cap in Vader ass but Darth Vader, he's the main bad-guy, you know, like, Gargamel on the Smurfs, he totally deflects the laser beam with his hand. I bet he didn't learn that in one day.
The bad guys, they put Han Solo in the freezer just like that crazy old woman who lives next door to Brie on Desperate Housewives did to her husband. But before he gets frozen he gets all James Dean cool when Princess Leia says she loves him and he just says "I know". I mean, how totally bad-ass is that!?

Luke Skywalker to the rescue! Well, he would have rescued them if he freakin' listened to Princess Leia when she screams at him at the top of her lungs that it's a trap. But does Mr. I'm-A-Jedi-Now listen? No, just like my Dad, he just goes wandering off without a freakin' clue. If he were a true Jedi, he would have sensed it was a trap and gone a different way. So off he goes, just leavin' R2-D2 stranded and all alone in Cloud City not given'a damn what happens to him even after all they've been through together.

So he goes into this room and there's Darth Vader who's totally in touch with his femminine side 'cause he's got a pink lightsaber. And then they fight and Luke basically gets the bejesus knocked out of him 'cause he took the Community College version of Jedi training and gets his hand chopped off. Then Darth Vader says he's Luke's father which I guess is supposed to be a big deal, but my dad's asthmatic, too, so I don't know what the big deal is. But Luke is going through his Goth phase 'cause he just yells about how much his father sucks and decides to kill himself instead of learning how to run the family business, only being the big loser he is, he doesn't die, he just gets sucked into a tube that has trap doors that empty out into nothing (who the hell designed this place?) and ends up hanging upside down again just like back on that snow planet.
So now that Princess Leia has escaped she's gotta turn right around and go rescue his sad ass. And Luke ends up in the hospital, again. And that's it! What the hell kind of ending is that!? How the hell can you leave a poor cat hanging like that!?

George Lucas is stupid.

I give it a "paws down."

I think I'd like the Luke in the Dukes of Hazzard movie better. But I hear there's Ewoks in the next one and who doesn't like an Ewok?....

Dude Ranch Camp

2008-05-29T13:47:00.000-07:00

I sure was excited when my Dad told me I was going to Dude Ranch Camp, even though I wasn't quite sure what a Dude Ranch is. So I asked my brother Grover what a Dude Ranch is and he said it's a place where you go bowling and drink white russians. I asked him what a white russian is and he said they're all white 'cause when was the last time you saw a black russian and I said Grandpa loves black russians even though he won't vote for Barack Obama. So I'm a little confused and that's not ususally a good thing when Dad decides to send you off to camp.

So we get off the bus and there's a crusty old guy in a funny hat and a scarf and boots and big silvery jewelry and I asked him why he was dressed up like a girl if this was a Dude ranch and he said he was a cowboy and I said you can't be a cowboy 'cause cowboys wear football helmets. Then he called me "pardner". Oh boy I got a nick-name! Sure is better than being called Turd Blossom! He said his name was Cowboy Curtis and I got real excited 'cause if this was Cowboy Curtis then we were gonna be going to Pee Wee's Playhouse! Then again, I sure thought Cowboy Curtis was a little darker than this Cowboy Curtis, but they say that television adds a few ehtnic skin tones so I thought nothing of it.

We followed Cowboy Curtis hoping we'd get to pick which room in the playhouse we were gonna get to sleep in but instead he took us to this ring of tents around a firepit where all these other guys with funny hats were sitting and eating beans and farting a whole lot. This is where my brother Po should go for the summer 'cause he sure does fart a lot! So I asked Cowboy Curtis where the Playhouse was and he said they don't have a playhouse but they do have a henhouse and would we like to see it and I said okay 'cause I didn't want to make Cowboy Curtis mad or he might make his friends fart in my face and nobody likes a fart in the face except maybe German people 'cause they like all sorts of weird kinky stuff like that (my brother Grover told me that when I asked him what vinyl was but I'm still tryin' to figure out what that has to do with music...).

I thought I'd like the henhouse 'cause hens are chickens and I'm a Chicken and we chould all get along just fine and where there's chickens there's Gonzo and I sure did want to meet Gonzo 'cause he's a star and I was hoping to get his autograph. But when we went to the henhouse I couldn't find him and Cowboy Curtis said to pick out which chicken I'd like to have for dinner and I said I'd have to talk to them first to see which one I had the most in common with. Finally, I was gonna have a chance to be in the most dramatic rose ceremony ever! But Cowboy Curtis said to just pick one but I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings so I told Cowboy Curtis to pick one out for me and he did. Cowboy Curtis said we'd have to clean the chicken for dinner and I said I didn't even know her name and I was kinda young to be doin' stuff like that and so Cowboy Curtis said to just watch (he must be German) and then he picked up the chicken and swung it around his head and killed her!!!!! Oh my god!!! Get me the hell out of here!!!! I don't want to be in Crazy German Poultry Snuff Film Camp!!!

So I ran back to my tent and hid under the covers until Cowboy Curtis came in a nd said he was sorry he didn't realize I was a vegetarian and I said wanted to go home and he said if I did I'd miss out on the coolest part of camp which was rustlin' cattle and I like to rustle things like plastic bags and cellophane so I thought that could be fun but I told Cowboy Curtis that just 'cause I was a Chicken doesn't mean he can swing ME around like he did to that other chicken or else my brother Grover would come over here and bust some serious ninja moves on his ass.

The next day Cowboy Curtis woke me up and said we had to go out into the fields to herd some cattle. I heard those bastards all night, freakin' moo-ing kept me up so I couldn't sleep. Cowboy Curtis said we'd have to ride horses to get there and I said "woo hoo!" 'cause I like horses 'cause Mr Ed was a horse and he was pretty funny and who doesn't like a good joke so I said sure Cowboy Curtis lets go ride some horses and so Cowboy Curtis took me over to meet my horse only his name wasn't Ed, it was Horse-on Wells so I said, crap, he's gonna be really pretentious but instead he was just kinda fat and wobbly and just a little drunk (he smelled like wine). We rode out to where the cows were and I knew we weren't in California 'cause theses didn't seem like happy cows 'cause they just kind of moped around and ate grass, but if it was California then they'd be playing practical jokes on each other and stuff, but instead, these were just a bunch of lame-o cows. Cowboy Curtis said it was time for them to get their brands and I asked him what that was and he said it was like a cow tattoo. Oh boy, these must be gang cows. So Cowboy Curtis makes a fire (I'm not allowed to play with matches) and puts this big stick in the fire and I get excited 'cause it must be time for smores but instead Cowboy Curtis takes his stick out of the fire and pokes one of the cows in the butt with it! What the hell is with these perverted Germans!? But I guess if the cow wants to be cool he's gotta get his tattoo so I guess it was okay, but I tell you what, I sure as hell won't be joinin' a gang anytime soon, no-siree-bob! No one's poking me in the butt with anything!

Cowboy Curtis said it was time to shear some sheep. He said it was like a barbershop for sheep and I sure do like that movie 'cause Ice Cube is cool and it takes place in Chicago which is where my Mom and Dad are from and I sure do like my Mom and Dad, well, maybe not my Dad when he sends me to crappy summer camps.... So we rode our horses over to where the sheep were hangin' out and Cowboy Curtis gave me some clippers and told me to get to work. I went up to a real raggedy lookin' sheep and asked him if he'd like a haircut but he didn't say anything so then I realized that these must be retarded sheep and Cowboy Curtis was doin' charity work, givin' retard sheep haircuts and all. I wanted this poor retarded sheep to feel special so I remembered how Mackenzie the Poodle had her hair cut at school and how everyone said it was attention grabbin', so I said to myself, Chicken, I says, lets make this retard sheep look special. When I got done I showed Cowboy Curtis my work and he must have really like it he didn't say anything for a long time. Then he came over and grabbed my clippers and made my retarded sheep completely bald! I sure was mad, but then I realized he did it so that the other retarded sheep wouldn't feel left out so I guess it was okay. I asked Cowboy Curtis what he was gonna do with all that fluff he shaved off and he said it was going to be made into sweaters and I thought that was kinda weird. Instead of making sweaters for the retarded sheep why not just leave 'em alone and not shave 'em in the first place?

The next day we learned how to lasso. We had a lhasa in our class last year but no one liked him 'cause he wouldn't shut up. Cowboy Curtis gave me some rope and I sure do like to play with string-like things. Cowboy Curtis said it wasn't a toy it was a tool and I said he was a tool for being so mean when all I was trying to do was play 'cause this was supposed to be summer camp after all and he grabbed the rope from me and swung it around his head and I tried to jump up and get it and when I came down I got caught up in the rope and when I tried to get loose I landed on Cowboy Curtis and my paw accidentally landed on his gun in his holster and it went off and it shot Cowboy Curtis in his foot. Boy was he funny jumpin' up and down like a cartoon. But then one of the farting guys from the camp called an ambulance and they took Cowboy Curtis away and so now there was no one to run the Dude Ranch so I was sent home. Great! Now I have to have Dad figure out where to send me next. I need a white russian, bad!

Summer Camp Sucks

2008-05-29T13:45:00.000-07:00

I'm not very happy with my Dad right now.

He got me all excited about going to summer camp by bringing home all those shiny cool brochures about where I could go and instead my Dad decides I need some culture so he sends me to Korean Methodist Bible Camp. I'm not Korean! And I'm not a Methodist. I have no rhyme or reason to what I do through the day. And I've never read the Bible because Mr Teacher said that young kids need and education and should only read non-fiction. So I'm really not sure what the hell I'm doing here or what I did to piss Dad off.

When we got here we were split up into two groups called the North and the South. I was put in the South group even though I'm not from the South and I don't talk with a funny hick accent or vote Republican or own a gun or drive a pick-up or listen to Toby Keith. Instead of tents or cabins we have to sleep in old Hyundais. Luckily I got an Elantra so I have some room to stretch out and cats like to stretch and I'm a cat and I'm kinda worried about being around all these Koreans 'cause my brother Chuffy says that Koreans eat cats and I sure don't want to be eaten by a Korean before I get a chance to play tee-ball. So I asked if we get to play tee-ball and my counselor Mr Sum Young Guai said that yes, we can have tea. But first we had to find this girl named Kim Chi and bury her in the ground, but not to worry 'cause we'll dig her up later and eat her. Dad! Why the hell did you send me to Bible Cannibal Camp! I don't remember Jesus being gnawed .. he rose from the grave. Then again, I don't remember any stories about Jesus going to Korea. Maybe it was the Holy Ghost 'cause they have a city there called Seoul and it must be named after him.

Sure enough we had tea at lunch and I don't like to drink tea I like to drink white milk 'cause milk does a body good and my body wasn't doin' so good after lunch 'cause I was real hungry 'cause I couldn't eat anything 'cause they gave us chop-sticks and everyone knows that cats can't use chop-sticks 'cause we got no thumbs so I starved and Mr Sum Young Gai said I was a good example of showing solidarity with the starving people in the North who had no food. I sure am glad I didn't get picked for the North group! And I don't remember showing any solid dairy to anyone 'cause if I had cheese I sure as hell would have eaten it.

After lunch we played Demilitarized Zone with the kids from the North group. We all lined up on either side of this ditch and stared at each other and made faces for a long long time. It was like Red Rover without anyone coming over. The North kids had a loudspeaker and it was saying that our camp sucked and that the North camp was fun and everyone was happy and I sure do want to be happy and be cool so I snuck over to the North camp. I think their counselor is sick 'cause they call him Mr. Ill and they put on all sorts of shows to cheer him up. We all get on some bleachers and hold up different cards to make big giant pictures, but I don't think we did a very good job 'cause most of us don't have thumbs so we cant hold cards and so we couldn't make pictures so we were sent to go make plutonium. He's my favorite Disney character 'cause he's a funny dog without being overly stupid like that Goofy fella. We had to put on these rubber suits and cats don't like to put on clothes 'cause it messes up our fur and I don't remember any kinky rubber fetish gear being in the Bible so I said "no way" and I was told I was a traitor and I said yeah, I'll trade ya anything for some white milk 'cause I sure do love white milk and I was told that I should be happy with what I have and I said I don't have anything and they said neither did anyone in the North and I said this place sucks and they said no it doesen't and if Mr Ill hears you say that he'll shoot you and I said there are no guns in the Bible and they said so what and I said if you're gonna just make up things as you go along then I might as well go to White House camp and so they threw me out of the North camp and when I got back to my Hyundai they said I couldn't come back 'cause I was a traitor and I said hey, I already told those guys I have nothing to trade and they said I wasn't welcome here anymore and I said it's about time you guys act like a real church and start discriminating even when you preach inclusion and they said something in Korean that I'm pretty sure Jesus would never say and I was sent home.
Dad says he's sorry I didn't get to play tee-ball and he was gonna find another summer camp for me to go to . I sure hope he talks this over with Mom 'cause I'm kinda scared to find out where I'll end up next.

Summer Camp

2008-05-29T13:44:00.000-07:00

Ohhhhhhhhh, boy oh boy, summer is here!!! I am soooooooo excited to be out of school. Not that I don't like school, 'cause I like to learn stuff and make my brother Grover look stupid 'cause he didn't go to school 'cause he said real ninjas don't go to school, they learn on the streets, and I was born on the streets, under an underpass, actually, and all I learned was that I didn't want to be out on the streets. I'm gonna miss the kids in my class (except Jimmy the Monkey...stupid monkey). But I sure won't miss Mr. Teacher. What a loon! I think he's going to teach music camp this summer 'cause he said he had to report to Sing Sing right away.

I'm very excited about getting to go to summer camp. But there's sooooo many to choose from! My poor little fuzzy head is gonna explode trying to decide which to go to this summer. It doesn't really matter which one I go to 'cause Milie won't be there ...she's going to her family estate, Meerkat Manor to see realtives. So she won't get to see me in my super-cool jams or play tee-ball either . Man, summer's soundin' like it's gonna suck! So I really need to find a good camp to go to to get my mind off my woman. These are the camps my Dad says I get to choose from. I say, let's vote on it! Where shall we send me for camp this summer? As long as I get to go to camp, I'll be super happy!

So please cast your vote for one of the following summer camps. Remember, these are 866 numbers, not 800 numbers....

Arts and Crafts camp (macaroni art is cool...)

Band camp (oh, I am in a band, remember?...)

Yiddish camp (my brother, Po's suggestion)

Space camp (as long as Kate Capshaw isn't there)

Drama camp (the girls from the Hills are counselors)

Survivalist camp (you mean like spending the summer without Millie?)

Archaeology camp (become Indiana Jones...or a really bored guy with a brush)

Bible camp (learn to vote Republican)

Spy camp (learn to sell secrets to the Russians)

Gone With The Wind camp (uh, I think this one's about diversity)

Star Wars camp (my friend Julio the Ewok is going to this one)

French camp (you get to oui oui against a tree)

SCUBA camp (yeah, that sounds right up my alley...)

Poker camp (it says they provide all your chips and I love Pringles)

Banking camp (learn that money doesn't grow on trees)

Computer camp (learn to open Windows and let in the fresh air)

The John Wayne Gacy Memorial Fund Summer Camp (oh, wait, it's in Chicago, too far...)

Project Runway camp (compete to make a new uniform for Smokey the Bear)

The Stephen Colbert Green Screen Challenge Summer Camp (you get to play with lightsabers)

Superhero camp (I sure would like to meet Catwoman)

Camp Mohawk (Bill Murray at his best)

Camp Crystal Lake (I hear they have a killer hockey squad)

Camp Pendleton (I will learn how to walk, talk, shoot, shit, like a United States soldier!)

Camp David (they have pretzels)

MASH camp (learn how to perform open-heart surgery with a twig and run a still)

Tee-Ball camp (it's the sport of Presidents!)

Boy, there sure a lot to choose from, so you gotta help me out! Voting starts at the end of the show.

Mother's Day

2008-05-29T13:43:00.000-07:00

Oh, holy cow, it's Mother's Day! It's the day we celebrate Mothers. I sure do love my Mom. My human Mom, who's really my Mom even though she's not my birth Mom, who's my real Mom, but 'cause my human Mom raised me and rescued me from that underpass in California, she's my real Mom. But I still love my real Mom (my birth Mom) 'cause she had me. My real Mom (human) can't have kittens. That'd be weird. And if she did have kittens, she'd be kidnapped by the government and experimented on and I sure don't want anybody experimentin' on my Mom, dammit! Stupid government. If the government really cared about Mom's, they'd make the holiday a real holiday by having it on a Monday so that Mom could take a three-day weekend. And put it in July when the weather's nicer. And send Mom a kicker check so she can buy herself something nice, 'cause her kids usually get her something crappy like a Whitman's Sampler or a stoopid Mylar balloon or a teddy bear. What the hell is a forty year old woman gonna do with a teddy bear? I'm four and I don't have a teddy bear. And what Mom wants to go to brunch? Like Mom's gonna be all thrilled to go to some lousy buffet where a hundred people before her have coughed and snotted and breathed all over her powdered eggs and room-temperaure crab salad that isn't even made with real crabs. To me, that sounds like what you do when you hate your Mom, and I sure don't hate my Mom! That's why I just got her a card for her to display on her desk at work. Nothing tacky, nothing ugly, nothing that she'd be embarrased to display (you ARE displaying that card aren't you Mom? All us kids picked it out and signed it and everything!). The other reason we didn't get her anything is 'cause we don't have any money and usually when Dad gives the kids some money to buy a Mom's Day present, they buy her what they want instead of what she wants, and I sure as hell can't afford tickets to Tom Waitts on my allowance. So maybe we can all chip in together and get her a belated Mother's Day present and buy her tickets to see her favorite bestest coolest singer ever (that's Tom Waitts, you know. I personally think he sounds like a goose being slaughtered, but if my Mom says he's cool, then he's cool. Scarlett Johannsen thinks he's cool 'cause she made a record of her own covers of his songs. She probably sounds like a goose being slaughtered, too, if it sounds anything like her rendition of the Pretenders in that karaoke scene in Lost in Translation. I like Bill Murray. He's in that movie, too. But I like him better in Meatballs. It's about summer camp! And I sure can't wait to go to summer camp!). So if you could help me make my Mom happy, you can send all your donations to the "Send Mom to see a Slaughtered Goose Foundation" care of my Dad. You just need to send enough for Mom and Dad. I can't go. Not 'cause I don't want to, but because we'd have to fly on an airplane to go see him 'cause he's not comin' to Portland. Cats can't fly on planes 'cause your ears get plugged up on planes and you have to chew gum to get them to pop and everybody knows you never give gum to a cat. Heck, we're even afraid of bubbles. Mom bought us some bubbles to play with and as soon as we saw them, we freaked out and hid. Bubbles are scary! Big floating baths is what they are and everyone knows cats don't like bubble baths, only tongue baths. Dad says there's a joke in there somewhere, but I don't get it. So you gotta send enough to cover tickets and airfare. And hotel. A nice hotel. Only the best for my Mom. She likes to take baths (bubble baths...I'm not sure about tongue baths) so the room has to have one of those big bathubs so Mom can soak and get all relaxed. And a rental car so they can get to the show! A big car, 'cause why would she want to cram herself into a little sub-compact after relaxing in the tub? They're probably gonna have to pay to park, too, so a couple extra bucks for that would be good. And they gotta eat and it's gotta be someplace nice 'cause this is for Mother's Day, remember, so no buffets! Oh, boy, Mom is gonna love this. Of course, she's probably read this and is planning on going and arranging her work schedule, so I sure hope you won't disappoint her, so get those checks in the mail ASAP! You don't want me to look like I don't love my Mom, do you? Oh for goodness sake, ya gotta help a Chicken out! Don't make my Mom hate me! Why are you making my Mom hate me? I just need a little help, and who doesn't want to help a little boy make his Mom's dream come true? So hurry up with those donations. You're gonna be contributing to the best Mother's Day ever! And don't you want to make a difference in someone's life? Be a giver, not a taker! And thank your Mom for her donation to our

Cinco de Mayo!

2008-05-29T13:42:00.000-07:00

Today is Cinco de Mayo, a day when we celebrate the invention of mayo. Without mayo, we wouldn't have BLTs, even though mayo is never part of the description, and I sure do love BLTs. I'm just glad we don't have a dog, 'cause if we did, he'd steal my BLT 'cause that commercial shows that stupid dog running all over the house trying to get some bacon, and he's too stupid to figure out it's not real bacon, stupid dog. And you're not supposed to run in the house 'cause you might knock stuff over and break stuff and get grounded and not be able to go to Chuck E Cheese for my brother Grover's birthday which is today, the day the Mayo clinic was founded which is where my Dad is gonna wind up sooner or later if they don't figure out what's wrong with his broke-ass. But today my Dad is gonna take us to Chuck E Cheese even though Grover wants to go to Vegas and play craps, which I don't understand since he does that at least twice a day in the litter box here. He says all the cool cats go to Vegas to party, but I sure do love Chuck E Cheese 'cause they have cheese pizza there and cats love cheese 'cause cheese is made from milk and milk makes a body strong and I want to be strong to impress Millie this summer when I wear my super cool jams at tee-ball. I'm gonna play tee-ball this summer at summer camp. My Dad signed me up so that I could spend the summer with my friends. And I asked my Dad if I could bring my friends to the Chuck E Cheese for Grover's birthday and he said yes so tonight we're gonna party like it's 1999! Prince is cool! He has a song called Cream and I sure do like cream 'cause it's like milk, and milk is an ingredient in mayo. My Mom is gonna make us some tuna salad today for birthday treat, and tuna salad is made from mayo and today is Cinco de Mayo, so thanks to Mexico and all the Mexicans for inventing such a tasty condiment!

A Lost Opportunity

2008-05-29T13:41:00.000-07:00

You know, cats don't like water. Even more than that, cats hate magic. Witches do magic, and they keep black cats as pets and Tupac, my brother, is a black cat and he doesn't belong to any kind of cult. But more than hating magicians, cats hate egocentric attention seekers who call themselves magicians. Yeah, I'm talking to you, David Blaine, you greasy Jeff Goldblum looking creepazoid. You don't do real magic, like Tyra Banks, who turns ugly chicks into America's Next Top Model. You just look for attention doing "stunts" like a three year old at the play area at the mall (look at me! look at me!). So this time your "magic trick" was setting the world record for holding your breath under water. But because your ego is bigger than your lungs, you had to suck on oxygen before you went in the tank, and that's cheating and magicians don't cheat, they manipulate the dark forces of the universe to do their bidding, like Ryan Seacrest. And, yay, ooh, yippie, you set a world record. Big deal. My brother Po sets the world record for biggest pee boulder just about every day and you don't see him prancing around the set of Oprah like he's the coolest dude in the world (that is totally Bob the Builder). So now I'm dissapointed in Oprah more than ever. She's the most powerful person in the universe, so who do you think would have argued with her if she had closed the lid on that water tank, locked it shut, and then gave everyone in the audience buckets to collect their tears of joy? She had a chance to make the world a safer place for magicians and cats and people with brains and she totally blew it. I'm gonna cancel my subscription to "O" magazine right away (besides, it doesn't have an activity page and I love activity pages). Boy I sure do miss Doug Henning.....

My Birthday!!!!

2008-05-29T13:39:00.000-07:00

Holy Crap! It's my birthday! Or as Diddy says, My Birfday! I'm gonna be three years old, which is 21 in people years, so let's load up the party wagon and head on over to Hooters for some shooters! But screw the chicken wings, well, because......And don't surprise me with any clowns or balloon animal maker people. You should never try to stuff an animal in a balloon. But I do like the blow-up bouncy castles, but then Mom would have to clip my claws and that sure as shit ain't gonna happen. Maybe we'll go to Chuck E Cheese. No, Chuffy and mice, not a good combo. Or Wet and Wild. But you've never seen Po try and get a bath. Mini golf could be fun, but Stella would just chase the balls and bring 'em back (and hit on the caddies...cats need caddies for all kinds of golf...) Ooooooh, skate party! Elvis on ice! But if we have a party, Mom says we have to be polite and invite everyone from my class, and I sure as hell don't want to have Jimmy the Monkey anywhere near my birthday cake. He'll fling it before I can eat it! So I think we might just stay home with my brothers and sisters and play pin the tail on Dad. You can totally send presents, though. What three year old doesn't want presents?

I want:

Transformers

Power Ranger (not the stupid red one)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Matchbox cars

Tori Spelling action figure

Hungry Hungry Hippos

Rock 'Em Sock "em Robots

A vibrator

New Mittens

Legos

Lincoln Logs

Tinkertoys

Viewmaster

Barrel of Monkeys (just kidding)

Han Solo action figure

A dick in a box

Teddy Ruxpin

My Little Pony ( the blue one)

GI Joe

Baby wets-her-pants

Hulk Hands

The Ron Jeremy Home Video Kit

Criterion CollectionWeekend at Bernies

Snoopy Snow Cone Machine

Two pairs of blue Zips

Colorforms

Chloroform

Season passes to the Met

A first edition "Also Spake Zarathustra" by Friederich Nietzche

A "Bachelor" runner-up

Mousetrap

Bubbles

Mr Microphone

6 grams of plutonium (Chuffy asked me to ask for that)

Jenna Jameson

A bottle of Jameson

World Peace

Please wrap the gifts you send, 'cause cats actually love the wrapping better than the gift. And just like Jesus, I am a gift to the world and you should celebrate me by using your tax return to buy me stuff.

No myrrh, please.

Happy Birthday to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me and Julio

2008-05-29T13:38:00.000-07:00

We got an exchange student at school this last week. He comes from Endor in South America and he's an Ewok. His name is Julio and he likes to eat other Ewoks for lunch. And burritos. And Lunchables. He speaks English, 'cause that's what everyone speaks in outer space. That's how Captain Kirk got so much tail...although he does speak the language of love, and Po says that's universal, which, if memory serves, is where outer space is. And Julio IS an alien. But he's a legal alien 'cause he's gonna be a lawyer. But right now he's only in the first grade, so he's gotta long way to go before he can start chasing ambulances. Mackenzie chases ambulances, but she's a dog, and she's supposed to, although I'm not sure why dogs chase cars. They can't drive so what are they gonna do with a car when they catch it? Unless it's an ice cream truck, which would be a great thing to catch, except you can't let dogs eat chocolate or they'll die, and I don't want Mackenzie to die 'cause we already lost one member of our band (Ollie the Octopus got caught shoplifting the pootie and got sent to Juvie Hall...I sure hope he doesn't get roomed with Gary the Gorilla!!!). Maybe Julio can play those Stormtrooper Head Bongos like his people like to play and then we can really start to put out cheesy craptastic Disney-esque inappropriate Muppet music (shame on you John Williams!). Gotta go. Gotta meet Julio down by the schoolyard!

Venezuela

2008-05-29T13:37:00.000-07:00

I never watch The Simpsons. Bart Simpson is sooooooo 1996. But I heard today that in Venezuela kids won’t get to watch it anymore. President JC Chavez or whatever the hell his name is said it’s not good for kids to watch because it’s "immoral". So to replace it in the morning line-up, he picked America’s next best export, and I couldn’t begin to make this up: Baywatch! Yep, instead of hearing "eat my shorts!" while eating your Wheaties, you’ll be noticing the lack of clothing on Pamelas Teaties. Of course, there’s a good reason for Hugo to do this....Nazis! Where did they all flee after the war? South America! And where is Venezuela? South America! (or so Po tells me...Mr Teacher hasn’t spent a whole lot of time on geography, but I CAN tell you which countries have non-extradition policies...) Now the Nazi’s have something to enjoy while they clone each other and eat schnitzel. And why do Nazis love Baywatch? Two words: David Hasselhoff! He’s a German National Treasure, and everyone knows treasure comes in a chest, and Baywatch is full of chests. But I suspect that slowly but surely, the Simpsons will slowly creep back into the line-up ’cause at this point, can you really tell the difference between David Hasselhoff and Homer Simpson? I sure liked it better when Venezuela was a fat windbag Latin American baseball player and not a fat windbag Latin American dictator....hee hee, I said dictator....

I want a chocolate Jesus in my Spring Break basket

2008-05-29T13:35:00.001-07:00

Oh boy, am I confused about this whole holiday. I didn’t know Jesus was Irish, ’cause the Irish throw celebrations when someone dies, and we call the day Jesus died Good Friday, then give each other chocolate bunnies and hop a party bus to Cabo. I can’t go to Cabo. It’s not ’cause I’m too young, ’cause I’m a big boy, but I noticed on MTV that when you’re in Cabo, you have to keep your arms in the air and yell "woo hoo!!!!", like all the time, and I can’t keep my arms in the air ’cause then I’ll fall over (I’m a 4-legger). And I don’t have a tat of barbed wire around my arm, so I wouldn’t fit in. Or a beer bong. Or a whore on my arm. Or a desire to be anywhere near Carson Daly. My name isn’t Tara Reid....

So for Spring Break I’m gonna eat lots of Easter candy. I get Peeps and malted milk balls because Jesus died for my sins. And the Easter Bunny brings them because the Easter Nun would be way too scary. And nuns are usually old and slow (unless they’re rapping knuckles, then, hoo boy, watch out! But I don’t have knuckles, and don’t go to Catholic School (’cause Dad says he doesn’t want to pay to have me molested) so I have nothing to worry about), so they can’t cover that much territory very quickly, so not everyone would get their Cadbury Creme Eggs, and, really, who wants to wait in a line at the mall to have their picture taken with a Nun?

And Jesus must have had really bad cholesterol ’cause he sure seems to have like eggs a lot, ’cause I don’t think bunnies lay eggs. That must have been what they had at the last supper. I would have had tuna fish. And white milk (I’m too young for wine, and it really wasn’t wine was it, no, it was blood, and I’m no damned vampire, except on Halloween, which, ironically, is another candy-centric holiday). Of course the Easter Tuna would really pose some Easter Basket delivery problems. Then again, fish lay eggs, which would make sense. But Jesus freaks put pictures of fish on their cars, so maybe the Easter Tuna catered the last supper and served eggs and chocolate and rabbit, passed around a wicker tip jar and that’s how we come to get baskets full of chocolate eggs delivered by a giant pink rabbit in a velvet vest. Ands why the hell does the Easter Bunny wear a vest and nothing else? Makes as much sense as Donald Duck wrapping a towel around his waist after getting out of the shower. And why is he pink? Is he a commie? Commies believe everyone gets an equal share of everything, but not everyone gets a tasty Easter Basket. My friend Manny the Manatee doesn’t get a tasty basket at Easter. And my friend Abdul the Aardvark doesn’t get a tasty Easter Basket. And my friend Mackenzie the Poodle doesn’t get a tasty Easter Basket (but that’s because she’s a dog and chocolate kills dogs...too bad it doesn’t kill monkeys). And why don’t we do little foil wrapped chocolate Jesus treats? It’s his big day. Rising from the dead and all. So we should have, like, sour gummy tombstones, or Holy Ghost Peeps. And Sweet Tart Mary Magdalenes. Christians have crosses everywhere: in church, around their necks, so why not Reeses Peanut Butter Crosses? Nobody has really thought this whole holiday out, have they? And the Bible isn’t really clear as to which Spring Break destination Jesus went to after rising from the dead. Cabo? Daytona? Oh, wait, I know...

Padre!

So this year, I’m hoping the Easter Nun brings me a basket of tuna and a ticket to LA.....I wanna go to the Playboy Mansion and see some real Easter Bunnies!

Just don’t tell Millie.....

March

2008-05-29T13:34:00.000-07:00

At school, since it's March, we're learning all about the month of March. Mr. Teacher says it was named after the mom on the Simpsons. It's also the month when St. Patrick's Day is, which is a celebration of the guy who invented the Shamrock Shake. And it has something called the Eyes of March, which is the day that Julius Caesar invented the salad for Brutus, Popeye's arch-enemy. But everyone knows that Popeye doesn't eat salad, he eats spinich so he can kick the bejesus out of Brutus, or Blutus, or whatever the hell that hairy guy's name is, so that he can get with Olive Oil and use those big gigantor fore-arms to split her in half like a wishbone! And March is when all the madness happens, like what happened to King George, who I don't think played basketball. And March is when the first day of Spring is, which is when Droids get together with the Ewoks and sing gay-ass songs around bonfires. March is also the name of a Michael Penn album. If he had others, I couldn't tell you what they're called. And it's Penguin Awareness Month (March of the Penguins). Since it's not February anymore, we have a whole 'nother year before we have to be aware of Black people's history again. Easter is in March this year, when we celebrate the brutal and bloody execution of Jesus with jelly beans and Peeps. I like March. Lots of stuff going on, and it means there's only three more months 'till summer vacation!

The Oscars

2008-05-29T13:30:00.000-07:00

Juno what? I'm sittin' here, drinkin' my MILKSHAKE, and gettin' all excited about the Oscars. I think it's cool they give awards out for such a Grouch, but I thought they'd be green, not gold. And they only give out awards for stupid things, like Art Direction. Who is this guy Art and how does he end up in every freakin' movie? They should give awards for things like, best performance by an animal, or best use of an overused cliche. Instead, I have to figure out if the old dude who's close to death is gonna get the symapthy vote instead of the guy from The Fugitive. Or that chick who owns all those Ruby Tuesday restaurants. She looks old. They should just call them the Oldscers and give out golden jars of Metamucil. Ellen Page isn't gonna win for making getting knocked up in high school look like fun. And Juno isn't gonna win 'cause it's funny. Funny movies don't win awards, unless it's the MTV Movie awards. Well, Dances With Wolves was pretty funny (Tatonka....hillarious!). And it's not even gonna be a funny Oscar show anyway: I LOVE those Billy Crystal singing montages. Or they should get back David Letterman (Uma, Oprah....classic!). Or Chris Rock, 'cause now that my Dad says we're gonna have a black man for a President, they should lead everything. Even my first grade class, 'cause let me tell ya, Mr. Teacher is a bitter old caucasian. A drunken, chemically dependent, mysoginistic, jingoistic, chauvinistic cracker.

So who's gonna win what? I don't care, 'cause Hannah Montana isn't up for anything, but I promised my Uncle Bob I'd give him a run for his money...

Best Actress: Laura Linney, 'cause I like names that have the same initials.

Best Actor: My brother Grover says it should be Viggo 'cause he says he fights badder than any other MoFo (my aunt's name is Mo, but I'm not sure what that has to do with fighting...)(and what's a Fo?)...(oh, I guess a Fo is something that's fake....I'm so confused....)

Best Supporting Actress: Saoirse Ronan, 'cause how hillarious is it gonna be watching someone try and read THAT name off the card....

Best Supporting Actor: I don't know any of these people, so I don't care! Write in candidate: Bumblebee from Transformers!

Best Director: Who did "The Adventures of Elmo in Grouchland'?

Best Picture: High School Musical 2 !!!!!!!!!!! (Or Juno...she had a hamburger phone....)

Oh, they're playing the music now, so I gotta go. I'd like to thank my Dad for helping me write this page, my Mom for being my inspiration, my brothers, Po, Grover (go Ninja!), Elfie, Toopie, my sisters, Cibby, Henry and Stella, and I wanna shout out to my band, my class, and, wait, wait, I wanna give, wait, hang on, I wanna give my love to Millie, I sure couldn't do it without you, oh and one more thing, wait, wait, one more thing, I DON'T thank Jesus, he had nothing to do with this, so Jesus, thanks for nothing! I love you all! Thank You!!!!!

Germany

2008-05-29T13:28:00.000-07:00

My Mom hates Germany.

She's never been there, and I've never been there, but Dad's been to the Germany at Epcot and he loved it. I think my Mom would like Germany because she's a very organized person, and Eddie Izzard says they're very organized in Germany 'cause they're Prussian, and I like Eddie Izzard because he knows, like I do, that giraffes are evil herbivores. And there aren't any giraffes in Germany, so I think I'd like it there, except at the zoo, and who goes all the way to Germany to go to the zoo? And like my Mom, I like things organized and in order. Don't go screwing with my routine! I get up and I simply can't eat if Dad doesn't put some kibble in my dish, even if it's full, he has to put some fresh kibble in or I just can't eat, and a cat's gotta eat or he won't grow up to be big and strong and impress certain meerkats by the name of Millie, and isn't it just cruel to deprive your kids of breakfast before school? Gee whiz, Dad, you're killin' me! Although I wonder if Germans would put weinerschnitzel in my dish, or sauerkraut, or struedel. Struedel would be good because I don't think I could eat a weiner dog. And they'd probably give me beer instead of water and I'm way too young to be drinkin' beer, although my brother Grover would love it, but the joke would be on him 'cause he'd just drink lots of beer until he got real fat and then he couldn't be a ninja anymore, he'd just be a sumo wrestler, but he'd be in Germany, so he'd probably just end up playing the tuba in a stupid oompah band. And I'd call him leiderhoser! But then he'd probably hit me, with his tuba, but I'd run away and escape in KITT, the talking Trans-Am. He lives in Germany 'cause that's where David Hasselhoff is king, and KITT is short for KITTEN, which is what I am, so we'd already have this bond, and I'd repay his kindness by taking him to Burger King ('cause he could get a paper crown there and be king of Germany again) and get him something he can eat in his bathroom, 'cause that's where he likes to eat (I've seen it on TV) 'cause it's efficient to eat where it's gonna come right back out...those Germans have it all figured out).

They have a wall over there, too, and everyone knows cats like to sit on top of walls (just like in those Tom and Jerry cartoons where all the neighborhood cats get together and sing when Tom gets stuck babysitting the bulldog baby and he's gotta make 'em all be quiet, but they come into the house anyway and start breaking stuff and the baby wakes up and cries and the big dad bulldog comes out of his doghouse and beats the holy bejeus crap out of Tom while Jerry sits by and laughs at him...that's great stuff....). But my Mom doesn't like it when we sit on top of walls 'cause once Po was sitting on top of the ledge at the top of the stairs and he fell off and dropped, like 800 feet, but he's a cat, so he landed on his feet, but it scared my Dad who almost had a stroke, and I don't want my Dad to have a stroke, 'cause then his eyeball would almost fall out and he'd just sit and drool, and we already have Henry to do that, and Tupac would be awfully sore if he wasn't the one who made Dad's eyeball fall out 'cause that's his super power: making people's eyeballs fall out. He says it's voodoo, but I don't remember Dad rescuing him from Haiti...So I guess I can't sit on top of the Wall. What the hell else am I supposed to do over there? Go to a stupid cabaret and watch some Teutonic Elvira-looking stormtrooperettes prance around in black vinyl bustiers to Falco tunes? Oh, wait, Grover, Dad, and Henry say that sounds like fun...I guess I'm just too young to go to Germany. There's not much for a young boy to do in Germany. Snoop Dogg took his family there for the MT-V Europe awards and he hated it, too. And if Snoop hates it, I hate it (although he eats an awful lot of chicken...that worries me). So I guess I'm gonna have to agree with Mom that Germany sucks...now we just have to convince Dad to go to India.....

My New Year's Resolutions

2008-05-29T13:25:00.000-07:00

Ooooh, boy, it's a new year, and Mom says you're supposed to make resolutions. I thought I was a good cat, but I guess I need to explore my inner id and integrate my colloquial foibles with my latent primordial urges and find a plane of peaceful existence on which to find balance for my spiritual chakras. Or as Mom calls them: resolutions.

So I guess the first thing I resolve to do is to work out more. Mom says that's usually the first thing on anyone's resolution list. She says I gotta get into shape for Millie...work on my guns! So I'm gonna start hitting the free weights, some cardio, a little pilates. You, know, just get my work-out on. Ooooh, I better find my sweat band....

And then I'm gonna try to be better about chasing my sisters. But, see, Henry just lays under the table all day, so if I chase her, she gets some much needed exercise, and if I chase Cibby, well, it's good for old folks to get some exercise, too. So I promise to chase them a little more so that they feel better!

And to be nicer to Bob, the purple jingle ball.

Just kidding. I'm gonna smack that silly bastard around until he's purple for a reason! Lucky for Bob you can't water-board a jingle ball...too many holes. But I'm not really sure that the Geneva Convention applies to jingle balls...poor Bob.....

I resolve to let Mom and Dad pet me more. It sure feels good, but something tells me that one day instead of petting me they're just gonna rip my fluffy little head off and feed it to the coyotes out back, so I still gotta be careful about letting them get too close. Humans are sneaky that way.

And I'm not gonna watch as much reality TV as I did last year. If only because "I Love NY 2" has spoiled it for all others...nothing can ever be better! I just can't believe she picked Tailor-made! He's a total puss! I think Po should try out for "I Love NY 3"...totally made for each other!

I resolve to keep hating George and Izzy (stupid whores).

And I promise to cover up my poop in the poopy box every time (unlike some other cats who just scratch the couch....)

And thank Dad every time he gets Bob out from under the stove from when I smack his sorry ass under there (you can run but you can't hide, Bob).

I promise I'll do all my homework and look both ways before crossing the street and eat all of my lunch before I eat any dessert, and only drink white milk even though I could have chocolate if I wanted.

And I resolve to keep on hating giraffes. Evil herbivores!

I'll be better about letting Dad get the boogers out of my eyes.

And I'll try not to snore so loud.

And do good in school.

And not let Mr Teacher's drinking, drug-use, and social prejudices influence me as I grow and find my way in the world.

I sure am looking forward to 2008...it's gonna be great!

My Christmas Wish List

2008-05-29T13:21:00.000-07:00

Oooh, boy, it's almost Christmas and I sure have been good this year (which can be hard when you really want to see Gary the Gorilla get his....). My dad says that Santa Claws can see if you're good or bad (which makes him a bit of a peeping tom, and I don't want some fat stranger-danger in a weird red suit looking through my windows while I'm sleeping...) so just to make sure I get some good loot this year, I've been real careful not to do anything that might put me on the list my brother Grover is on. I've eaten vegetables every day at lunch at school, and I don't drink the chocolate milk, just the white milk. I didn't wander off at the museum on our field trip (painters are perverts: they all like to paint pictures of boobies....). I haven't tried to climb the Christmas tree, and I haven't eaten any of the garland (which is why Grover is on that other list). All in all, I say I've been a pretty good little boy, so I've made a Christmas List for Santa:

What I want for Christmas, by Chicken Orville McMuppet:

The first season of Hannah Montana on DVD

A Bob the Builder tool set (so I can make Millie a real nice napkin holder)

A Transformer (they're more than meets the eye!)

Some Lincoln Logs (to build a fort for my Transformer)

Some cat nip (a cat likes to relax after a hard day at school...)

McDreamy to fall for the new nurse on Grey's Anatomy (he totally needs to get over that whiny Meredith...geeesh!)

Avisit from my Auntie Cheese Samich

Mr. Microphone

A membership in the Jelly of the Month Club (it's the gift that keeps on giving the whole year through)

A gym membership so I can get big and buff for Millie (and be ready for Gary when he gets out of Juvie)

For Gary to never get out of Juvie

The Soldja Boi CD so I can dance whenever I want

Oprah to let someone else get on the cover of her magazine

A chia pet

"Drop Dead Fred" on DVD (that movie sure is funny!)

Millie to kiss me under the mistletoe

I sure hope I haven't asked for too much. If anything, I hope it snows on Christmas here, 'cause it usually doesn't and it sure would be nice to have a White Christmas. Snow is fun! So I'm gonna try to keep being good and count the days 'till the fat man comes!

Happy Turkey Day!

2008-05-29T13:19:00.000-07:00

It's Thanksgiving and I sure do have a lot to be thankful for:

I'm thankful that my Mom and Dad rescued me from that underpass in California 'cause I sure don't want to be a Californian...that's where all the weirdos live, and I'm not a weirdo, I'm a fluffy bunny-like kitten! Brittany Spears: weirdo. Suzanne Sommers: weirdo. Chicken McMuppet: fluffy bunny-like kitten.

I'm thankful for my brothers and sisters, even when they act like weirdos. If I didn't have Po, who takes me to school everyday, I'd have to take the bus, and I sure don't want to take the bus 'cause bad things happen on busses, like bombs going off if it goes too slow, or getting hijacked by Freddie Kruger, or falling off the side of a cliff in a third world country. So I sure am glad I have Po. And my ninja brother Grover, who's gonna protect me from Gary the Gorilla if that fat ugly bastard ever gets out of Juvie Hall (I sure am thankful for Juvie Hall!).

I'm thankful for Millie the Meerkat for making me feel all warm and happy inside.

I'm thankful for having fresh kibble and water everyday (Mom says there are kitties out there who don't get kibble everyday, and that sure is sad, so everybody should find a kittie and give 'em some kibble and make them happy, and a happy kittie is a purring kittie, and a purring kittie is a happy kittie, and why wouldn't you want a kittie to be happy?)

I'm thankful the Green Bay Packers are 9 and 1 'cause it makes my Dad happy...

I'm thankful Mom isn't fast enough to catch me when my claws need to be clipped (and she should be thankful for that, too, 'cause I can be awfully ornery when someone tries to clip my claws...)

I'm thankful George and Izzy have no sexual chemistry on Grey's Anatomy...serves those cheating whores right....

I'm thankful for all my fans who read my blog...spread the word so I can become famous and become rich so I can take care of my Mom and Dad in their old age (and that's coming up really soon...)

I'm thankful I haven't been sent to Mr. Principal's office lately...

I'm thankful for my Uncle Matt who brought me back a dancing hula girl from Hawaii just like I asked. He's super cool!

I'm thankful for zoos: it's always better to have monkeys behind lock and key!

And I'm thankful for Millie. I know, I said that already, but boy I sure am thankful for her...she makes my heart go pitter pat!!! Meerkats are awesome, and pretty, and cute, and awesome. I'm really thankful Millie is in my class.

Happy Thanksgiving, Millie!!!!

And Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Help Me Name My Band

2008-05-29T13:13:00.000-07:00

I sure do like the band Counting Crows. They count, which is pretty cool, and they're named after birds, which are NOT monkeys, but cool animals, so they're pretty cool overall. But the lead singer is my new hero: Adam Duritz. Have you ever seen a picture of this guy?He's a big, fat, ugly dreadlocked hippie. And yet, my good friend Adam has had Courtney Cox and Jennifer Aniston as girlfriends! My conclusion: because he's in a band. If that sasquactch can get the pretty ones just by being in a band, then surely Millie won't be able to resist my rocker charms when I form my own band. Of course, I won't be the lead singer, 'cause everyone knows the bass player is always the coolest member of a band (Sting, Flea, the Blue Wiggle). So, rounding out my crew are Billy the Bandicoot (Australians make cool punk rock singers), Mackenzie the Poodle (the stuck-up chick is always on keyboards), Oliver the Owl (we need a harmonica player in case one of us gets the blues), Ella the Emu (Kazoo...she really has no musical talent, but she really likes Billy), Larry the Lemur (the Triangle...he just has to follow the band's lead) and Owen the Octopus (Drums, naturally). Unfortunately, we need a name for our band, 'cause a lot of the cool names have already been taken, like "Wild Stalions", and "The Blues Brothers". So help us vote on your favorite band name before our first concert (Mr Teacher says we can play at our turnabout dance in February!). I'm gonna be a rcok star!!!!!

Our favorite names so far....

Snot Locker
Monkeys Suck
Monkeys are Evil
Death to Monkeys
Poop
The Va-Jay-Jays
Baby Schrapnel
Sarah Silverman's Vibrator
Tickle MY Elmo
Idiosynchratic Colloquialism
The Paco Taco Review
Exploding Mule
The Copulating Sweet Potatoes
Monkey Spittle
Monkeyspankin'
The Plop Rocks
Jew-manji
Dingo Baby Buffet
Peanut Butter and Jellyfish
Chicken Came First
Lobster Spaghetti
Big Brain on Brad
Dookie Howser
Magical Mormon Underwear
Silas Martyr
The Creamy Marsupial Review
Kitten McNugget
Monkey Slaughter
Monkey Balls
The Sleepy Jackson Band
Ninjas on Parade
Chicken and the Super Adventure Explorer Club Orchestra
Fat Oprah
Giggity Giggity Giggity
Oh, Felicia
Game Over!
Ore-go, Ore-going, Ore-gon
Shoplift the Pootie
Manumahnah
Suit Up
Flaming Zombie Bus to Hell
Burning Giraffe Carcass
Millie Floats My Willie
Grand Old Osprey
Kneel Before Zod
The Pimple Poppers
Deep Fried Twinkie
Tyra Mail!
Fried Monkey
Kentucky Fried Monkey
Dead Monkey Walking

Of course, the band would love some further suggestions. So let us know, and we'll be announcing the release of our first album after we learn how to play our instruments and read and write music. But if we get a name for the band, at least we can print up some t-shirts.....