yesterday was my cat's 6th birthday

So, in kitty years, she's about your age right now, ya?

Mooch, I miss Dora the Explorerer.

Guitarhacker


Who actually keeps track of such things?   Are you kidding me? 

It was part of his training to become a kept man happily married.

 
Little Johnny comes down to breakfast. Since they live on a farm, his mother asks if he had done his chores.
 
"Not yet," said Little Johnny.
 
His mother tells him no breakfast until he does his choresWell, he's a little pissed off, so he goes to feed the chickens, and he kicks a chicken.
 
He goes to feed the cows, and he kicks a cow. He goes to feed the pigs and he kicks a pig.
 
He goes back in for breakfast and his mother gives him a bowl of dry cereal.
 
"How come I don't get any eggs and bacon? Why don't I have any milk in my cereal?" he asks.
 
"Well," his mother says, "I saw you kick a chicken, so you don't get any eggs for a week. I saw you kick the pig, so you don't get any bacon for a week either. I also saw you kick the cow, so for a week you aren't getting any milk."
 
Just then, his father comes down for breakfast and kicks the cat halfway across the kitchen.
 
Little Johnny looks up at his mother with a smile, and says: "Are you going to tell him, or should I?"
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
(let me know if you want me to 'splain it to you Ed )
 
 

PET DIARIES


Excerpts from a Dog's Diary:

* 8:00 am - Dog food! My favourite thing!
* 9:30 am - A car ride! My favourite thing!
* 9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favourite thing!
* 10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favourite thing!
* 12:00 pm - Lunch! My favourite thing!
* 1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favourite thing!
* 3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favourite thing!
* 5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favourite thing!
* 7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favourite thing!
* 8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favourite thing!
* 11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favourite thing!


Excerpts from a Cat's Diary:

Day 983 of my captivity.

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am.

Bastards!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow - but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously reta rded. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IiYUzYozsAQ

Henri 3, Le Vet