The non-BF is still laughing at me because of my lack of Cat Skills. Motherfucker better step back because I know all there is to know about dogs (well, I know a lot, but maybe not everything), but I haven’t been able to catch the Wormy Kitty more than about five times.
I don’t let her out much. Well, I didn’t, until I saw that she scares the shit out of Rainbow (what doesn’t???) and she can hold her own, even though she is still tiny. Now the little bitch (is that a proper name to call a female kitten?) is running all over the fucking house, attacking Rainbow and darting off, trying to smother Blindie and generally pissing off Mr. Tail. Then she parks her feisty cat ass in the middle of the den to lounge about like she is tired. If I try to get her, she runs off again.
Rainbow spends his evenings trying to claw his way into the Kitty Prison where the kitten food is. The few times he’s eaten it, he has the shits for a couple of days.
Only Blindie is wise enough to retreat into the Dog Bedroom and get away from all this bullshit. I swear, I’m going to turn this kitten into a dog, personality-wise. She is a true hot mess. Damn cat!
And I still cannot find the bitch. She’s loose in here, somewhere. I may never go to sleep tonight! That fucking kitten is TROUBLE.
UPDATED: Damned cat is hiding behind the Mr. Tail silk flower arrangement. (Why, YES, I have a silk flower arrangement in the shape of the tiny white dog. It was a birthday present from the dogs last year.) I’m going to get her soon. Very soon.
UPDATED AGAIN: That kitten is bat-shit crazy. I give up. Not going to catch the bitch any time soon.
Late night commercials scare the ever-living shit out of me. Trans-vaginal mesh issues? Worried about where your parents will live when you decide you don’t want anything to do with their care again? Need a new gym that will absolutely make you lose 50 dress sizes in five weeks? Chuck Norris endorses this one! No, no, NO! Not the Rug Doctor! Sweet baby Jesus, the raiseyourhandnow commercial just made me cry. Something about a fake British accents really makes me want to order an Instabulb. And by the way, there IS nothing hotter than a guy who listens…TOTALLY gonna try LiveLinks. P.S. That asshole who asks, “What’s hot? The chili or the chicken?” needs to kiss my ass. Don’t talk to waitstaff that way, you pompous prick!
Oh HELL. I hope the non-BF doesn’t mind that Wormy Kitty just ate the strap on his laptop bag. Shit, shit, shit.
I asked my mom to look at my new website because “it’s cute.” She asked me, “Are you still cussing all the time in there?” Me: Fuck NO, Mom. I totally fucking cleaned up the site. Don’t worry so damned much. (I love you, Mom!)
Mr. Tail had to have some “procedures” today, so guess what the non-BF does? GOES OUT OF TOWN. It’s really in his “plan” to be around when things are sunny, but leave me to be the “bad parent” when things aren’t so cheerful. He even told me so. Good thing I’m “flexible” and I don’t hold a grudge (against him). I’m happy to tell you that Mr. Tail, although a bit injured, is okay. I haven’t tried to give him his meds yet, though. That should be fun. The non-BF owes me at least a pair of earrings out of this shit, I think! Or some fucking boots. You choose.
I thought I’d died and gone to hell, but in reality, I woke up and realized I’d left the TV on. And a Steven Seagal movie was playing.
Many of my girlfriends and a lot of my family have claimed that I am “spoiled.” If “spoiled” means that I get my own way, receive presents all the time, take fabulous trips and pretty much spoil myself on a regular basis, then YES. I am spoiled. However, I would absolutely ADORE the non-BF no matter what. I don’t need all that material shit from him to make me happy (mainly because I buy myself all that material shit, but still). The most favorite time in my day is when the phone rings, and it is him. I literally RUN to the phone. It’s ridiculous, but I do. I’m like a teenager around him. He really makes all the shit any of us deal with on a day to day basis all right.
However, I’m still pissed at him for leaving me with this animal bullshit, though. Earrings. AND boots, baby.