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?....
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Dude Ranch Camp
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!
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
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.
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
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.
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
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!
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
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!!!!
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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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
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
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
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.....
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
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
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!!!!!
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
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.....
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
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!
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
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!
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!
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!
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
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.....
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.....
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