Metablogging the kitty-blogging

While we are over here alienating all of Zoom's lovely knitters and cat people with all our ESI self-referential wanking, I would like to direct folks to some other local cat blogging that warrants attention.

First and foremost: Bob. Once again, Bob has written an absolutely delightful piece, this time reflecting on cats and emotions. I just love the image of sweetiepie Bob "disciplining" his out-of-control cats.

Second, check out the fabulous Jo Stockton. Her cat is guest blogger, folks. The cat speaks.

Pantsing Duncan

So as the latest round of kittyblogging proceeds down its predictably cutesy path, and the kittyblog fans settle back into a presumptuous air of unquenchable smugness, I have pressing and urgent questions. First: When is that lousy Dwarf umm, my very good friend, going to invite me over? Second: Why is that lousy Dwarf umm, my very good friend, suddenly obsessed with cat grooming? Third: why is Zoom so confident that Duncan can take me out? Fourth: what's all this euphemistic crap about his underpants? Fifth: There is no fifth thing.

I believe these issues to be not unrelated. (You're welcome, double negative fans...) Here's what I'm thinkin': Zoom seems a teensy bit overconfident about Mr Donut's ability to take me, in an altercation that assuredly will have no connection at all with the Marquis of Queensberry.

This is because she knows he's got brass knuckles concealed somewhere in that mountainous hairball he wears. Without 'em, he's lunch. Or at least mini-donuts.

Now, I've never seen any fur bearing creature wear underpants in my life, so I'm guessing this is some kind of cute kittyblogger euphemism for really major shedding. And I bet the Short Guy hasn't gone on his unprecedented furline hygiene kick for nothing. It's Spring. Cat's gonna shed all over his cave. The more seriously pantsed Duncan becomes, the fewer illicit utensils he can hide. I also welcome the Dwarf's timely action to clip Mr. Donut's usual weapons. Although I have to say I've become a little disturbed by the Mini-Me direction the whole relationship is taking, and feel a timely intervention is due. By a good friend.

It'd be sooo cool if Shorty'd just invite me over for tea and crunchies. I've dropped hints, I keep checking my answering service and inbox, but so far nuthin'. What's with that?

2D is doing well

Did you know that Duncan likes to call himself 2D? Duncan Dogcat.

The pedicure went just fine. 2D wasn't into any of the soaking solutions I offered, so we went without.

He also decided to do his own filing.

Addicting

Ms Army Pants: You are obsessed!
Woodsy: No I am addicted.

Below is a quote from the book that I am reading, In the Realm of the Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction, by Gabor Maté.

“There are almost as many addictions as there are people. In Brahmajala Sutta, the spiritual master Gotama identifies many pleasures as potentially addictive.

…Some ascetics and Brahmins…remain addicted to attending such shows as dancing, singing, music, displays, recitations. Hand music, cymbals and drums, fairy shows…combats with elephants, buffaloes, bulls, rams;…

Gotama, known to us as Buddha, lived and taught about twenty-five hundred years ago in what are now Nepal and northern India. Today he might also include in his sermon: sugar, caffeine, talk show, gourmet cooking, music buying, right-or left-wing politics…”

I would like to add blogging to this list. But I can’t decide if I am addicted to blogging, or if I am addicted to my blogging?

Sorry Audrey

The people appear to have spoken.