Come Out Of The Shadows Jesus

I don’t normally do this but this video showed up on my Facebook feed and I watched it and then I had a lot of questions.  One sentence in the video, in particular, had me confused.

“The Christians will finally come out of the Shadows.”

I had no idea there were Christians hiding in Shadows.  Exactly what Shadows are they hiding in and where are those Shadows?  Are there schools and hospitals in these Shadows where they can be educated and receive medical care?  Do they have Garbage Disposal?  Because it might get kind of nasty in the Shadows if the garbage starts piling up.

If real Christians are hiding in Shadows then who are the people that are claiming they are Christians but aren’t hiding – like the ones that go to the church across the street from me, or the ones on TV or the FaceBook groups?  Are they fake Christians?  Are they just pretending while the real Christians are residing in some horrid Shadow?

Why are the real Christians hiding in the first place?  Who are they hiding from?  We don’t allow Lions in arenas full of Christians anymore, do we? That would be fucked up if we do and I’ll start writing Protest Letters to the UN immediately if that’s the case.

Are these Hiding Christians in Canada too? Does this explain Andrew Sheer, Jason Kenney and Brian Jean?  They aren’t hiding so does that make them fake?  How can I tell the real ones from the fake ones?  If I see a person hiding in my shrubs should I assume it’s a real Christian and offer them chocolate and a blanket?  If I suspect someone that isn’t hiding in my shrubs is a Hiding Christian are there identifying marks or secret handshakes that will let me know what they are?  Are they dangerous?  This guy is talking Civil War and that sounds kind of dangerous to me.  Is there a Hotline I can call if I have suspiciously identified one of the Civil War-causing Hiding Christians?

Are there nice Hiding Christians?  Should we be working on Safe Houses for them?  I would donate some food for them if I know where to send it all.  The Shadows might be a big place and I wouldn’t want my donation disappearing to other things that hide in the Shadows.  And speaking of food, if the Christians that are not hiding (fake Christians) don’t mind me Bar-B-Quing, should I immediately stop Bar-B-Quing in case the real Christians are repelled by the smell of roasting meat?  You know…..like Hell?  I ask because if the Christians I see all the time are not real Christians then I have to question everything I know to be true.

There are so many unknowns now.  I’m asking myself “What would Jesus do?” but I’m drawing a blank.  I suppose if Jesus was around the real Christians wouldn’t be hiding, right?  Or maybe Jesus would be in hiding too, waiting for someone to impeach Donald Trump so he could come out of the Shadows with all the other real Christians.

So, if I have this right, if the Americans impeach Donald Trump, Jesus can come out of the Shadows with all the Hiding Christians.  And maybe there are enough nice Hiding Christians to stop a Civil War that the not-so-nice Hiding Christians want.

That sounds totally plausible to me.

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VICTORY! or not

It’s time for Friday Fictioneers again, hosted by the stupendous Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This time we’re using a wonderful prompt photo by Roger Bulltot.

“HA!  I told you this wasn’t the way out!”  Cheryl crowed, twerking enthusiastically in a well-rehearsed if seldom used victory dance. 

Steve rolled his eyes, studying the map.

“YeeHaw!!”  Slapping her ass and shuffling like she was riding a horse.  “Gawd, it’s great to be right once in a while!”

He traced the map with his right index finger, muttering about medieval architecture.

Cheryl was now trotting in circles chanting ‘LOOOOSER’.

Steve went closer to the wall and pulled a vine aside.  “Hey!  Here it is!” 

Cheryl stopped to stare, wilted in disappointment and let her head fall back.  “Fuuuuuuck!”

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Just Listen Already!!

People don’t listen to me.  I talk and they nod like they are listening and then they go and do as they damn well please!  Like I hadn’t spoken at all!  I believe in doing your own thing and being your own person but when I’m paying for something I’d like them to LISTEN!

I just got home from the grocery store and I’m still a little annoyed.  Safeway sells wonderful collapsible square bags that are actually boxes that stand on their own, can handle a lot of weight and are easy to carry – I have many of them.  So when I got to the cashier, I placed the box in front of my groceries and moved down to the other side where she was packing the box.  She put in a six pack of canned flavoured water and I said….

“Just leave both six packs and the jugs of Cranberry Juice out of the bag.  I won’t be able to lift it if there’s too much weight.”

Her:  I was going to put all the light items in a plastic bag and the heavy stuff in the box.”

Me:  I don’t want a plastic bag.  Just leave the heavy items unbagged and I’ll hand-bomb them into the car.”

She put a six pack of the flavoured water in the box.  I reached in and took it out and put it loose in the cart.  She scans in the second six pack and puts it in the box!  I take it out and put it beside the other six pack in the cart and said….

“Don’t put the Cranberry Juice in the box.  I would like it loose and unbagged, please.”

She scans in some cereal and the fresh produce and deposits them in the box.  Then she scans the Cranberry Juice and puts it in the box!!!  What. The. Fuck?!  She pretends I’m not even there!

I just gave up at that point. I paid for my damned groceries, muttered all the way out to the car and came home.  If that was the only example I wouldn’t have much to complain about, but it’s not the only one.

About 6 weeks ago I went to the dentist and it was a total shit show and the ultimate end product was an incredibly painful TMJ issue.  I went back to the dentist, he took an x-ray and said my TMJ was just fine.  So I went to a physiotherapy clinic and they recommended I see Anne, the Traditional Chinese Massage Expert.  I told her what the issue was:  the entire right side of my face is killing me and the pain shoots up from my neck, through my jaw, up through my temple and across my forehead.  I explained that the dentist said it wasn’t TMD so it must be from the huge lump on the back of my neck.

Her:  Your face hurting but problem isn’t face.  Your face like computer screen that not working.  You think the problem is screen but it not screen.  It hard drive or software.

Me:  Oookay.

Her:  Lay down face up.  Show me where the pain is.

Me (laying down, face up, waving my hand all around the right side of my head):  Everywhere but mostly in my jaw and temple.

Her (poking my jaw):  Here?

Me:  OMG!!!  Yes!  That fucking hurts!

Her:  Ah!  You see?  Like radio.  You hear radio but radio not here.  Is over there.  You have to follow wiring.

She carried on talking about computers and radios and cars and other shit I wasn’t listening too.  I wasn’t listening to her because 1). She’s using her hands to point at the invisible computers/radios/cars, and 2).  I can hear the ticking of the clock and every tick is another minute I’m paying for while Vanna White is NOT fixing my problem!

The next appointment I said my face was feeling well enough for me to feel the lump on the back of my neck stabbing into my brain.  She shook her head at me and said….”Not neck.  You feel pain in neck but neck is not problem.  Your neck like computer screen that not working.  Not screen problem.  Software problem.  Blah.  Blah.  Blah.  Blah.  Blah.”

And she tortured my face some more.

Next appointment – my face is still hurting and now I can’t even touch it because she’s bruised every muscle on my entire head!  AND my neck is really hurting from the big lump.  I take her hand and push her finger on the lump.  Right there!

She smiles and nods.  “Lay down face up.  Neck not problem.  Like radio.  You hear radio here…….”  Blah, blah, blah, blah BLAH!  And she tortured my face in between her Vanna White impressions.  I go for 4 appointments with her not listening to me.  She would torture my face for a little bit, but then she decided to torture my left leg because I have nerve damage and walk with a limp!  What. The. Fuck?!  That’s the furthest place from my neck that she could possibly be and I’m almost certain my damned leg isn’t making my face/head/neck hurt!!

Two can play at this game, you know!!

The next appointment I said my face feels wonderful!  No pain.  It’s very good now.  She showed me a demonstration of how my jaw joint works.  She asked where the pain is and I said….”I have a terrible headache.  It is the back of my head all the way over my skull to my forehead.

She smiles and nods.  “Lay down face up.  Forehead not the problem.  Forehead like computer screen.  You think forehead is problem but it not the problem.  No.  You have hardware or software problem.”

And she finally worked on my neck like I wanted in the first place!!  Gawd!!

And then there’s The Damned Viking!  He only listens to the first 3 words in my sentence, decides what I’m about to say and then starts hollering, like he’s a fucking Clairvoyant!  I stop talking and make the universal sign of WTF by turning my palms face up in front of me with a confused face.

Me:  So, I was thinking that I should get……

The Viking:  WE CAN’T AFFORD ANYTHING RIGHT NOW!!  DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT WE NEED TO SAVE A LITTLE MONEY?

Me:  I was thinking that I should get busy doing the…..

The Viking:  DON’T YOU HAVE ENOUGH THINGS TO DO THAT YOU DON’T HAVE TIME FOR WITHOUT DOING MORE THINGS?!

Me (sighing heavily):  I was thinking that I should get busy doing the laundry.  Your dirty clothes corner is almost touching the ceiling.

The Viking:  I’m almost out of underwear.

And then there are the cats.  They don’t fucking listen either, unless I’m shaking the treat container and then they are listening so hard I’m tripping on them.

I don’t think I’m asking too much for people to fucking listen when I’m talking!  I’m becoming more and more convinced all the time that cranky old people are only cranky because no one would fucking listen to them and they’ve had enough!

I don’t need my cane to walk anymore but I’m thinking of taking it with me anyway, just so I can poke those non-listening fuckers!  And maybe I’ll sharpen the end into a point.  A nice sharp point.

 

Friday Fictioneers – Hotels and Room Service

I missed the last few Friday Fictioneers because The Viking tricked me into marrying him.  Okay….talked….me into marrying him.  So, there was that and then his brother and wife came to visit from Denmark and then a Honeymoon.  All of which kept me from getting too much time with a computer.

But I’m finally back in the swing of things so I have time for FF, hosted by the great and wonderful Rochelle Wiseoff-Fields.  And the photo prompt this week is provided by Jan Wayne Fields.

 

“What was that?”  Cheryl’s legs scissored and kicked inside the sleeping bag.  “There’s something crawling on my leg!!”

Steve rolled his eyes.  “There’s nothing crawling on your leg, Cheryl.  It’s all in your head.”

Scrambling out, sitting heavily on Steve’s stomach (Oooff!), she shook out her bag.  A beetle about an inch long plopped on her pillow.

“I knew it!!  This is why I hate camping!!  There are bugs in EVERYTHING!” 

Steve tossed the beetle outside immediately after Cheryl bolted, taking her pillow and bag to the car.

“So it’s hotels and room service forever?!” He yelled after her.

 

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Conversations with Teddy & Izzie

Izzie:  Fascinating, isn’t it?

Teddy:  I suppose so.

Izzie:  What do you mean, ‘I suppose so’?  Don’t you have any curiosity in your soul?  Don’t you ever want to know why?

Teddy:  Not particularly.  As long as there is food in my bowl I’m pretty content.

Izzie:  Gawd!  You and your kind are the reason we aren’t the dominant species on this planet.

Teddy:  That’s a little stereotypical, isn’t it?  Just because I’m not curious about water swirling down a hole doesn’t mean I’m not curious.

Izzie:  It’s not just water swirling down a hole!  They keep the lid down so we can’t see what’s going on in there.

Teddy:  Maybe nothing is going on in there.  Maybe they just don’t want you playing in the water.  Mom was pretty pissed the last time you played in there.  You mixed our pooper stuff in the water and flicked it all over the walls and floor.

Izzie:  It was an experiment!  I told you that already!

Teddy:  Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here.  I don’t care if you want to play in it, I just don’t happen to share your curiosity.

Izzie:  So why does The Viking pull his thing out and put more water in there only to swirl it down the hole?  It just doesn’t make sense!  What’s the matter with peeing in sand?  Why sand for us but water for them?

Teddy:  Maybe it’s because they don’t like digging in sand.  Have you ever seen them dig in sand for any reason?  Maybe it gets under their claws and they hate it?  My other sister never dug either because she didn’t like sand in her claws.  I was the one who had to bury her poo.

Izzie:  Of course you were.  So why does Mom sit to pee but The Viking stands?  Wait!  I just had a thought!  What if he’s just so proud of his thingy he wants to show it to me all the time.  Like when I kill mice and show them to him.

Teddy:  Maybe.  I’m impressed with it.  He’s got me beat by a mile.  I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a nod or a purr of delight when he shows it to you.

Izzie:  I don’t really care about that.  I’m more concerned with what Mom is doing.  She sits all the time and I have a suspicion that it’s not just because she’s humble.  I think she hiding something.

Teddy:  What would she be hiding in the water?

Izzie:  That’s exactly what I don’t understand.  She does something, puts paper on top of it and then swirls it all down the hole before I can find out what it was.

Teddy:  Maybe it was just some poo.

Izzie:  So why won’t she let me see it?  Why hide it if it’s just a poo?

Teddy:  Then what do you think it is?  If it’s not poo then what is it?

Izzie:  I’m not sure but I think it might be Treats.  She’s obviously trying to keep it away from us and what is the one thing that we like more than anything else?

Teddy:  Treats?!  She wouldn’t be that cruel, would she?

Izzie:  Who squirts you with water when you claw things you’re not supposed to claw?  It’s not The Viking – he just yells.  It’s Mom who’s trigger happy.  Who knows what else she’s capable of?

Teddy:  Noooo!  But I liked Mom!  She scratches my chin and gives me massages!

Izzie:  That’s how she lulls you to sleep so you don’t catch on to her nefarious treat drowning scheme.

Teddy:  Wait.  She gives us treats though.  When we come home when she calls, when we bug her and stare at the treat cupboard, when we do something cute……she gives us treats!  There has to be another explanation.

Izzie:  Well, I can’t think of anything else that we really like.

Teddy:  What if it is just poo but she just doesn’t want us to see it?

Izzie:  Well that’s just crazy talk.  Why wouldn’t she want us to see that?  The Viking doesn’t mind.  I know that for a fact.

Teddy:  Whatever, Iz.  I’m going to see if there’s more food in my bowl.

Izzie:  There isn’t.  You know the schedule and it’s not time for more food.

Teddy:  I’d rather be looking for food than staring in the swirling water bowl.

Izzie:  Go ahead.  But some day I’m going to figure this out and then you’ll be worshipping the ground I walk on.

 

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Grab the Bag and Run – Friday Fictioneers

“I’m never working with you again, Mario!  My kid sister could do better!”

“It’s not my fault, Giovanni.  You picked her.”  Sullenly.  

Sigh.  “She was the smallest person in the square and her man was busy with a map.  All you had to do was grab the bag and run.  I had the hard job keeping the man busy!”  

“Sure, she was small but she had a grip like your Mother.  She wouldn’t let go!  And she punched and kicked me, too.” Indignant.

“All that planning for nothing.  Not a single lira!  Well, come on.  Let’s find another mark.”

-word count: 100

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Mim’s Mine

I’ve been teetering on the edge of depression for the past couple of weeks.  I haven’t been feeling well and bills are piling up and my teeth are bothering me and I’m really tired and have every reason in the world to just go to bed and not get out for a week.  Of course I can’t get away with that which adds resentment to depression but that’s life.  Right?

But just when I was certain I was going down, Mim sends me this on Facebook. (The rest of this post is gibberish unless you watch the quick video).

Mim:   I think I’ve asked you almost all of these this year alone.

Me:    That just means you have an amazing Mom. And it also means that I have ALL the answers. You can pray to me if you want.

Mim:  Ooh If I rub a statue of you will it give me good luck? Or will a talisman of you keep evil away? What kind of chant do I have to utter while I pray? Oh! If I work my way up through the ranks can I wear a fancy costume like the pope!?!?

Me:  You just asked me 4 more questions. Yes – if you make a statue of me and rub the butt it will give you good luck AND keep evil away. I currently don’t have an official chant but now that you’ve brought it up I’ll get R&D to come up with something. If you can work your way into the higher echelons I promise to give you a very fancy costume. Do you like sequins? And what’s your feelings on mini disco balls?

From the video we moved over to a private message.  And so I don’t lose you, you should know that my cute little Mim is an Insulation Apprentice and is currently working on a Gas Plant site where every safety precaution is enforced.  Also, she’s the only female on a good sized crew.

So, the Viking comes in the house for a coffee and finds me weeping on my keyboard.  “What the fuck?!  What’s wrong?”

I suck air into my lungs.  “Mim!!  Oh my gawd!!”

I try to contain myself and read her message out loud.

“You wanna hear something funny? We have to wear personal gas monitors and I farted and it set off my monitor. Now everyone knows I farted!”

The Personal Gas Monitor vibrates, flashes and rings all at the same time!!

“Startled me at first and then I started laughing.”

The Viking laughed so hard he scared the cats!  So we were both weeping.

I sent Mim this….

Fart GIF - Find & Share on GIPHY

“Hahahaha it wasn’t even a big fart! It was just a fluff. Just a “pff” but there’s a hole in the crotch of my coveralls and it snuck out!”

I asked what all the guys did.

“I guess they’re pretty used to setting off their own monitors so all I got was ‘ooh, somebody farted’ in a whimsical sing song voice.”

I thought I was being all inconspicuous too cuz I knew it was going to be just a little bastard fart (a little stinker with no pop).  Didn’t think my stupid monitor would give me away!”

“I think the only reason I haven’t set it off before is because my other pair of coveralls don’t have a hole in the crotch.  Brad told me it makes him proud to have such a woman.  I think he was being sarcastic though.”

So I have a question that I need to ask when I have a minute.  Two questions now that I think about it.

  1. What are her coveralls made of that they can contain a fart?  Do farts accumulate in the legs and when you take them off at night a big green cloud of stink floats out?  Wait.  That kind of explains men’s locker rooms. Is all men’s apparel made of the same stuff?
  2. How do they know that an alarm on a monitor is a fart and not H2S?  I suppose maybe a billowy feeling in their under-carriage is a good indicator but what happens if you fart at the same time as H2S arrives?

Shit!  Now I’m worried.  I need to know stats – what are the odds?  See?! This is why we need science!

I was feeling better because of the laughs but now…….well……I’m right back to square one!  I read an article today that said intelligent people are less likely to be happy than stupid people because of blah, blah, logical conclusions, blah, blah, blah analytical thought processes blah, blah serious contemplations of fact and if that article is anything to go by I’m a damned genius!

Even so, I do feel better.  The Viking has been cursing the Gawds lately – at the top of his extremely effective lungs – about dirt and time and junk and people and air …….

Shrek GIF - Find & Share on GIPHY

……but I’m still okay.  I guess you lose again Life Obstacles!  Also, scrolling through Giphy looking for farts is enough to make anyone feel better.

But mostly, it was Mim.  And she’s mine.

Like a Mini-Me

I was the family joke when I was growing up.  They called me Dum-Dum. I was also “the ugliest baby” my father had ever seen.  I eventually came to terms that this is the hand that I was dealt and carried on.  There are others out there that have much shittier hands than me so I just made the best of it.

Oh sure, I was different.  I thought differently, I saw things differently, I did things differently.  Everyone in the household wore the “What the Fuck?!” face most of the 18 years I lived there.  And when I moved in with my husband, he wore it for the next 20+ years we were together.  And yes. The Viking wears it too.

Wtf GIF - Find & Share on GIPHY

But during my genealogy project, I came across pictures of myself as a kid. I wasn’t ugly!  What the hell?!  Stupid and ugly….those were the words.  But look at me!

I’m fucking adorable!

And then I started looking more closely at the rest of the photos and realized that Mrs. Completely was hiding there the whole time!  Like a Mini-Me!  If only I had known!

Those facial expressions aren’t those of a stupid person.  There are definitely things going on in that head.

 

 

I saw, I analyzed and I got grossed out.  There is no disputing the wheels were turning and I had come to a logical conclusion.

 

 

 

I tried to explain myself all the time!  Obviously not well enough though. Those aren’t the eyes of a stupid kid – they are the windows into a wacky soul.  An adorable wacky soul!

 

 

 

 

It’s not like I didn’t try to be normal. What other conclusion could anyone make about this pic except I was trying very, very hard to be sweet like a normal person?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That’s not a good look on anyone but I’m putting in the effort.

 

 

Most people would have left the room, but I stuck it out.  That’s loyalty!

 

 

 

 

And then Dad set me up to look really stupid with my Grade 2 friends when he explained what an Orgy was.  Not cool, Dad!

 

 

 

 

I may have fallen for the Orgasm thing but despite what Dad says now, I didn’t fall for a Carpool being a swimming pool with sloped ends that you drive your car through.

I stopped asking him questions after that and just figured it out on my own.

 

 

Sure, I had my moments.  I wasn’t always good – I probably wasn’t good 70% of the time – but aside from my older sister, who is good all the time?  Certainly not the person who gave me that damned black left eye!  Oddly enough, that’s not the only black eye I sported in childhood pictures.

So, I’m reviewing everything I always believed about myself. Who knew that at this late date it would be necessary?  And what does that say when I have to go all the way back to the beginning in order to grow now?

 

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Just Like Us

 

 

 

 

 

It has become evident that The Viking and I have rubbed off on our cats.  You might think that would be a good thing, especially if we are competent at using a litter box, but it’s probably not.  It appears they are picking up only our bad habits and personality disorders.

When Mim brought her two kitties (Dexter & Lucy) for a visit all 4 cats got bent out of shape.  Despite having spent quite a bit of time together (and playing!) in the past 6 months they act like they’ve never laid eyes on each other before.  Every human got at least 2 Stink Eyes from at least 2 cats.

 

 

 

 

 

And then………Everycat started Kung Fu Fighting.

Funny GIF - Find & Share on GIPHY

Lucy was the most committed.  She takes her Kung Fu very seriously.  Izzie was a close second because she, too, enjoys the occasional Kung Fu Free-For-All.  Blizzards of slapping happened with staccatos of trash talk.  They are both lovely ladies but I’m pretty sure there were a few ‘fucks’ thrown around and perhaps a little body shaming in between the lightning-fast bitch slaps.

In the meantime, Dexter and Teddy thought they should be doing something.  Dex made the first move – a half-assed slap aimed slightly to the left of Teddy.  Teddy sent a quick poke that fell far short of Dex and that was that.  Dex sort of went “Aw…fuck it!” and took over the top of the spare fridge.  Lucy finally decided that she’d had enough of the opening skirmish and took over the top tier of the Cat Tree.

We humans started nodding our heads going “that went well”, genuinely pleased with the social skills of our Clowder.  Mim and Brad had to leave for a few hours so The Viking and I were the referees should anymore conversations break out.

Eventually, the house settled into quiet.  So quiet, in fact, that I became a little suspicious and went to check on the combatants.  Teddy was humped up taking a poo in Dex and Lucy’s litter box while Izzie was rolling all over their blankets.

“Our cats are now Passive Aggressive!”  I said to The Viking.  “That’s exactly how we would handle an unwanted invasion into our territory.  You would poo in their suitcase and I would spray something smelly on their bed.”

“Why would I be the one to poo in the suitcase?”

“Because that’s definitely a guy thing to do.  Besides, you’re a better pooper than I am.”

Mim and Brad came again this past weekend and our suspicions were confirmed.  Once again, Dexter took over the top of the spare fridge and Lucy commandeered the top tier of the Cat Tree.  Izzie – she’s the brains – and Teddy wandered down the hallway, probably intending to poo and roll again but something else presented itself.

The Viking and I were watching a movie when we heard a loud rustling of plastic.  I went to investigate.  Both cats had ripped open Dexter and Lucy’s treat bag and were busy munching.  When they saw me coming both cats started to eat faster and faster.  By the time I rescued the bag there were only 3 treats left.

How can I be mad when they are doing exactly what we would do?  The Viking and I would totally eat their treats.  And make yum-yum noises as we did it.

I’m fairly certain that Teddy pooped in their litter box at some point and Izzie rolled all over their blankets again but I didn’t actually witness the crime.  Izzie did camp out on the floor in front of the Cat Tree – an “I dare you to come down, Lucy” sort of thing while Teddy took up a position in front of the fridge.  He was less effective because he is on pretty good terms with Dexter.  You have to give him points for his solidarity to his sister though.

So, now I’m wondering if The Viking and I need to be setting a better example.  When someone comes to the front door I have to admit that I’m a little standoffish but I’ve honestly never got into a bitch-slapping fight.  Okay….there was that one time I almost did but I managed to use my words to drive the person off the step.  And to be fair, they were trying to sell me a vacuum cleaner and dumped dirt all over the front door mat.

I suppose I could be more welcoming.  I could offer refreshments and stale cookies.  Would that make the cats better about welcoming their cousins?  It’s doubtful.  The damage is already done, precedence has been set, a routine established.  A change in tradition might cause more harm than good because cats get crazy about changes to the rules.

It’s settled then.  I don’t have to be any nice-r to people bothering me at the front door and The Viking can still poo in suitcases if he doesn’t like the company.

Celebrity Meow

Hi, I’m Puma Thurman reporting for The Celebrity Meow and I’m here with the glamorous Izzie and her handsome brother Teddy. 

  

These two felines were CAT-apulted into stardom from appearances on the Mrs. Completely Blog.  My readers have been clamouring for news about the duo so we’ve managed to pin them down for an interview.

Thanks for joining us, Izzie & Teddy.

Izzie:  I almost didn’t come but Teddy insisted.

Teddy:  Well, I’m happy to be here.  The buffet in my dressing room was very good.  Especially the Caviar.  I love Caviar.

Haha!  I’m glad you liked it.  So, it’s been 5 months since Teddy was rescued and moved into the Completely Viking home.  Tell us…..was there tension at first?

Izzie:  Yes.  Lots and lots of tension.

Teddy:  For sure.  There was tension but I believe in making friends and treating each other with love.

That’s just wonderful.  It sounds like you won her over fairly quickly.

Izzie:  He didn’t.  I barely tolerate him at the best of times.

Teddy:  Haha!  Izzie likes to tease.  We’re best friends!

Oooookay.  So what is your biggest Pet Peeve?

Teddy:  An empty food bowl.  I went hungry a lot when I was on the streets and now I can’t stand a bowl that isn’t heaping full.

And how about you, Izzie?

Izzie:  Teddy.  Teddy is my biggest Pet Peeve.

I can see Teddy is right about your sense of humor, Izzie.  So tell me, what pet would you like to have?

 Teddy:  Good question!  Hmmm….well, I would like something that would play with me so maybe a Bearded Dragon.  I love the way they run!

Izzie:  A sheep’s skin.  It’s soft to lie on and I don’t have to play with it, share my food with it, or tolerate its smell in my litter box.

Haha!  That’s funny!  So what’s your most prized possession?

Teddy:  I’ve gotta be honest, Puma.  It’s my food bowl.  I don’t need much in this life but I need a good food bowl.

Izzie:  My intelligence, my freedom and my ability to contemplate the meaning of existence.  Albert Camus said: The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.  Every action I take is toward that end.

Um…..well that’s very….um.…very……deep.  Okay.   Here’s an easy one:  what is your favorite movie?

Teddy:  I like a good love story that involves food because I’m all about food and love.  I would have to say my favorite movie would be Chocolat with Johnny Depp and Juliette Binoche. Me-ee-Oww.

Izzie:  Kill Bill.  Both volumes.  That lady takes shit from No One.

Teddy:  Geez, Izzie.  Couldn’t you pick something nice like 50 First Dates or something?

You are such a sweet guy, Teddy!  What theme song would you say fits your life?

Teddy:  Peter Gunn Theme.  Hands down.

Izzie:  These Boots are Made for Walking.  It’s self-explanatory.

Okay.  Last question.  What Super Power would you like to possess?

Teddy:  It might not be a Super Power but I’ve always wanted Opposable Thumbs, Puma.  I could get those treats Mom hides in the cupboard.  I could get into the bedroom at night so I could sleep on the bed.  Yeah.  Opposable Thumbs.

Izzie:  I would want the power to increase or decrease my size at will.  No one would fuck with me if I was the size of a small elephant.  There would be no more of this picking me up and kissing me crap, I’ll tell you that!   I’d have claws like Wolverine.

Well, thank you so much for your time.  It’s been a real thrill to interview you both and I’m sure my Readers will love it.

Okay boys!  Let’s blow this popsicle stand!  There’s a warm bowl of cream with my name on it somewhere.

Teddy:  You know….it wouldn’t hurt you to be a little nicer.  Kill Bill?  Really?

Izzie:  Pfft!  I just have no tolerance for bullshit and Puma Thurman is full of it.

Teddy:  And I’m your biggest pet peeve?  I thought people who touch your tail was your biggest pet peeve.

Izzie:  That was before you ate the food I was saving for a bedtime snack.

Teddy:  OH, COME ON!!  That was 3 weeks ago!

Izzie:  Revenge is best served cold.  Haven’t you heard that before?

Teddy:  When we get home you are going to get the biggest licking ever!

Izzie:  Don’t threaten me!  I hate the lickings.

Teddy:  I know.  That’s why I put you in a headlock first.

Izzie:  Whatever.  Where’s Mom?  She owes me treats for doing this.