Meet Jack. Jack was curious, probably because he’s a cat. Here, he was observing me as I was giggling and wrapping the handle of my tactical tomahawk with friction tape.
No, that’s not a euphemism for something sordid and nasty.
He’s such a calm cat that he sat there patiently as I scrambled for my camera. He said –
Don’t worry, I’ll sit here while you get set up. No trouble. But was wondering, and you don’t have to answer the question if you don’t want to, but… what exactly is wrong with you? Is there a name for it? Perhaps a support group you could get in with? Would some exercise help? No, I know you are bored, and I know that you’re a stone’s throw away from stepping over the border from Reality into the Land of the Cuckoos, and I know that you are itching to get rid of your Precious-es, but have you thought about trying… something different? Talk to me. I’m sure it will help.
He’s a smart cat. Too smart. He has tipped his paw and I now see him for what he is. He is not a pretty cuddly house-feline who cares for me. He is actually wanted to push me over the edge so the house is his. Oh, I know these things… I KNOW. He just wants me to start talking to him so someone will see me talking to him and they’ll judge me because of that when they don’t even realize that he can talk and that he’s not the innocent thing he appears to be. Believe me. I know.
Jack gets much bigger when you click on him.
Enough about the damn cat already.
As you’ve probably guessed I am nuts about helicopters. Wanted to be a pilot when I was growing up but I had to face the fact that a substantial hearing loss closes doors when it comes to becoming a pilot. Oh well. I’ll get my kicks some other way.
Santa brought me a stocking stuffer for Christmas morning (bless her heart). It’s laser-cut shimstock and you pop the pieces out and insert/bend tabs to put it together. I’m experiencing a flare-up of my decision-making disorder, trying to decide which to build first – this helicopter or the dual trebuchet kit. Oh the humanity.
Trebuchet, so you can use it on the cat as you build the helicopter.
And the tomahawk to keep him away from the trebuchet.
Good thinking Aggie… feline espionage is real. I know we’ve all had a cat run right in front of us as we are walking around the house, and we all know that such behavior is a passive-aggressive attempt to bring us down.
Aww, what a cute kitty!
Personally I’m having a big problem playing with my little balls. I can’t stop! And I NEED more! Must. Have. MORE!
pieces of very thin steel to be popped out, bent and inserted….
i see a run on bandaids in the near future.
Both my wife and I have conversations with our cats, and not just us saying things to the cats, but often speaking out loud what we imagine the cat’s response to be.
Example:
Me: Hey, trashball, that’s my seat. I only got up for a second, now I”m back and I need it back.
Trashball: Screw off. There’s no saving seats. You got up, it’s mine now.
Me: No, I need this chair. (gently pushing the cat off)
Trashball: Dickwad. Better check your shoes before you stick your feet in them.