You Know What? I'm a Chicken Fried.

Gretch the Wretch found herself a no foolin, 100% wanna be cat guy. So proud. Would it have occured to me to replace the words "down down down..." in this song with "mow mow mow..."? No, it would have not. I am not that awesome. It is nice to have a higher level of perfection to finally shoot for.

Also, Gretchen, the lyrics to a song title DJ Got Us Falling In Love are not "didya got us falling in love again." Don't worry, we all make mistakes, I'm still looking for you lying like a penny in the pocket line.

Also...ever wondered how long it takes to fill the cat lady's bathtub? About thirty seconds longer than it takes to write a blog post....phew, that was a close one.

Your One Stop Olive and Cat Hair Shop

Perhaps cleaning out the fridge should have happened sooner. Found the second jar while chewing on the contents of the first and looking for other late night snacks. Insomnia is fun. I sit at my desk and can think of nothing but napping all day...sun goes down? Nothin. Convenient, that is when Gordon is at his best too. I'm turning more into a cat with every passing day.

This is pretty much what we did with our evening:

The cat lady was avoiding studying because she cannot possibly memorize another notecard regarding Canadian insurance taxation laws without getting violently ill. Or at least falling asleep. Which she already did once tonight. Sitting up, Jitterbug style. Turning more and more into a cat everyday. Might need to start monitoring razor usage. And that incessant need to lick myself. Can't wait to chase my own tail...

Free To Good Home: Two Sticks of Unopened Butter

Apparently the cat lady has reached epic amounts of crazy and is no longer an acceptable person to hang out with. We've all heard the gotta work, my hair needs washing, need to do laundry, live halfway around the world, car broke down, too tired from sitting on the couch all day, can't afford gas, hate your cats, you smell funny, my friends are in town and can't stand you typical excuses. But helping someone move over hanging out with the cat lady? That's a new one. Anyway, as a result of all of this, the cat lady had to make her own dinner tonight and turned to the staple that is sour cream and chicken enchiladas. For a few months now her enchiladas have been tasting a little funny and tonight she discovered why. Turns out her butter expired. In early March. So this is why the cat lady is laying on the couch slowly sipping water trying to get the rancid butter taste out of her mouth trying not to think about how many things she has used that butter in. As a result of this and other recent blunders, the list of reasons to not hang out with the cat lady needs to be expanded to include the following:

makes food that tastes like trash and uses ingredients not acceptable for human or feline consumption.

If you want to hang out, I'm sorry, but I'll be too busy trying not to horf while cleaning out the fridge. I hear Jitterbug is available though.

Tonight's Menu: Steaming Hot Garbage

You can stop staying tuned. Mr. Fishy not only smelled like trash, but he tasted like it too. From this picture kind of looks like it as well. The cat lady no longer trusts recipes from Take Home Chef. This wouldn't be an issue if someone would just invent smellevision already. Even this guy couldn't be bothered to come check it out.

Next up: chile rellenos?

Here fishy, fishy

Isn't he cute??? Stay tuned...

Feline Torture

Sorry Kenny

Again country music has gotten it all wrong.

Cats and tequila make me crazy. Run like poison in my blood. One more cat could kill me baby. One is one too many. One more is never enough. When it comes to cats, all the damage I could do. Its always your favorite sins. That do you in.