lalouvelitteraire asked: hehe, your cat looks like a chubby angry old man.
Who you callin’ chubby?!? I’m Zaftig!
The hole in my food dish was getting bigger and without Joe around to fix that I had to take matters into my own paws. With great effort I was able to leap on top of the fridge where he keeps the food stuff for me, and I knocked it back onto the floor. Unfortunately I also knocked over some bottle with clear stuff in it and it kinda broke and mixed with the food. I was starving so I ate it anyways.
That was about six hours ago, and I don’t remember much between then and now. For whatever reason the room is still spinning a bit. So what is this Tee-Kee-La stuff, and why would Joe keep in on top of the fridge next to the food stuff? And why does my head feel like some rat keeps smacking it with a cartoon sledghammer?
Well it’s been 24hrs. so I’m gonna call it. Joe hasn’t made it back from the Post Office, and in honor of his last wishes I am taking over his blog. Don’t worry, I took care of his browser history and bookmarks so his Mom doesn’t get embarrassed when she shows up for the funeral. Why though would any man need so many bookmarks in his browser for Butts, Bacon, and Redheads?
For those who don’t already know me, I am Joe’s cat Mr. Underfoot. He’s talked about me a few times, and he requested I take over his blog should anything ever happen to him. Some of you may notice a few changes in the blog proper but I assure you they were made with the best intentions.
Now I guess I need to figure out what do do with my new 1,700 minions, er I mean followers. Any suggestions?
Supplies running low. The tobacco pouch is officially empty now, and there wasn’t even enough for a decent smoke. Went to make coffee and realized I was out of both milk and sugar. The Pop Tart box in the cupboard was empty. Why do I torture myself like that, and not just throw the empty boxes away?
I have no choice now. I must venture outside into the vast frozen tundra that is Southwestern Minnesota. It is presently -15F, with a wind chill of -40F. Hopefully the car will start, otherwise I will have to walk the half mile to the post office and convenience store, and then trek back to my personal outpost “Mancave One”. With any luck my tobacco order will be in my PO box, and the shop won’t be out of fresh milk again. I won’t be able to get Pop Tarts, but I suppose I can make due with their off brand doughnuts. Maybe I’ll get some Twizzlers.
If you don’t see me post again in the next few hours, it means I didn’t make it. Please tell my followers I love them, and could someone please erase my browser history and bookmarks before my Mom sees them. Oh, and tell Mr. Underfoot that he is free to take over my blog.