I’m so excited! This fall I will finally get Cheesy Poofs and the bag will read “Cheesy Poofs” and not something like “Natural Cheetos”, which are indeed cheesy, poofy, and… well, they’re cheesy and poofy but gosh darn it they aren’t called that. They need to be specifically called “Cheesy Poofs”.
Sadly, someone must risk actually entering Wal-Mart in order to buy them – most likely Cruel Wife – but it’s a risk and a sacrifice I’m willing to make.
Speaking of cheesy poofs, want to see the best picture of my kitty Wide Load Jilly-Boo? She’s wide and a real load as you can see in the picture. I’m surprised we don’t have to grease her up to get her through doorways. She’s started to suck in small moons and asteroid-type objects. She got her own zip code recently. Half of Ethiopia could be fed for three weeks – off of one haunch.
Click on the pic to make Jilly bigger, as if you really need to.
I am her human. She has laid claim to me and tries to stand on my chest every single night as I read before bed. It wasn’t a problem until she hit 18 pounds or so. In case you are wondering, yes that is an awful job I did of de-spookifying her eyes, which had the shiny cat eye thing going on so bad they were brighter than the noonday sun.
Here she is just after we brought in some of our industrial-strength catnip – fresh from the backyard. From the way her head moved you’d have thought we tried to scare her with a nice mix of chlorine and bleach, but this was her “I’m so happy I wouldn’t care if you shot me at this very moment” body language, where she started to roll and growl.
Update:
Just a few minutes ago one or both of them jumped up onto the counter to score some weed (their catnip). Cruel Wife came around the corner and found them sitting there and half comatose.
Note how Jilly-Boo is behind Jack-Cat and she still looks bigger. He’s 13 pounds. He’s no small cat.
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Boy is it ever a good thing they got him off the bench – it allowed him to clean himself up and turn his life around.
Not really. This guy is a living train wreck. Judge —> pervert —> DUI —> inmate —> stalker —> pervert again —> DUI/possession.
Hey, he’s found his calling. A lot of people never figure out what their niche is.
Lemur King's Folly 