Ex Post New Cat

So New Cat, aka PJ Winkleman, aka Funky Winkerbean, aka Steven Seagal: The Cat, shockingly didn't fare too well here at the house full of other cats and a dog. So after months of fear and depression, we found her a new home. I told her new owner, Riff Raff, that she could have New Cat if she paid me $40,000 in unmarked bills.

We made the exchange tonight, and Riff Raff promptly injected New Cat with horse tranquilizer.

"No," I exclaimed! "You need to use cat tranquilizer!"

Riff Raff thought for a moment and then said indignantly, "What do I look like, some sort of cat tranquilizer factory?"


So that's that. I'll make Riff Raff send periodic updates for our enjoyment.

Sometimes Its Just Good To Let the Cats Do the Talking

Don't Question My Judgement

Still waiting on new camera.
In the meantime, this seems like a spectacularly bad idea.

BONUSBONUSBONUS PJ WINKLEMAN SLUTTING IT UP

What Happens on Thursday Nights

You people remember the cat thing, right? Yes, it continues. New cat still rules, and old cats still act like they run shit by trying to keep new cat sequestered in the basement:


But really new cat does what she wants. Look, she comes upstairs sometimes:


That's new cat with the glowing eyes. That's Punk walking through our disgusting room. (We're too busy to clean. Sue us.)

Dana Senior surprised us last night by being here in America instead of in Thailand. Today we went to eat Pho (she needed to work her way back into the culture slowly) and she brought us presents. First was whiskey. Duh:


Whiskey which led to Ana being on the cover of Vice Magazine:


and second was the best t-shirt possibly ever:


You can't see it, but everything on the shirt is sparkly and fuzzy.

In other news, Ana and new cat are in love.


BONUSBONUSBONUS: What happens behind me when I'm phlogging


(To learn what words are actually coming out of her mouth, click the picture or here.)

Les Jeux Sont Fait. Translation: The Game is Up.

So my friend moves to Paris (France) and can't take her cat, and since we already have two (with cats the number is irrelevant until you get to four--look it up) and hers happens to be my cat's niece (the bloodline is established), she figured that family is family so now we have three cats.

My cat (Punk) is old and has taken to acting like a cat version of Miss Havisham, and has possibly taken to drink. Were she interesting in such things, she would probably be wearing torn lace garments and smoking from a filter. Hopefully she will not burn our house down and kill us all.

We already introduced a new kitten a year ago, one Pedro Cerrano, to which Punk has finally warmed but never completely accepted publicly, so I figured that the addition of a fully grown cat might pose new and interesting results. So far, here's what's happened:

Sunday, 1pm: PJ Winkleman (new cat's name) arrives. Other cats sequestered in bedroom. Winkleman enjoys new environs until she notices multiple other-animal smells, proceeds to find hiding place.

Sunday, 11:30pm: PJ Winkleman has possibly burrowed under floor of house in daring escape attempt.

Monday, 2:30am: PJ Winkleman's whereabouts unknown.

Monday, 3:00pm: Cats again sequestered in bedroom, PJ ventures out into the open, discovers litter box, uses litter box.

Monday, 5:00pm, Other cats released, discover foreign use of litter box, proceed to stare at litter box for 12 minutes.

Monday, 5:12pm: Punk (my old cat, the aunt) discovers PJ's hiding place-->


and proceeds to stare at PJ for 7 minutes, until I take this picture. The flash must have been some sort of cue, because Punk then jumped into PJ's stronghold and attempted to "fight" (Punk has no front claws and even less experience fighting) with her (who has claws) by flailing blindly in the air until I tap her tail and she runs away as fast as possible and hides in the windowsill. Well played, old cat!