tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85285517773388619862024-03-14T01:29:48.342-07:00Life As A Cat - By SylvesterLiving as a black cat locked in a suburban home with 2 humans, a stupid dog and a retarded kitten isn't easy. This is my real journal. The story of me, Sylvester the Talking Kitty.stevecash83http://www.blogger.com/profile/04273456302466526217noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-35395787385251444312011-09-25T11:58:00.000-07:002011-09-25T12:15:56.676-07:00Shelby broke her collar!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PoBaaIDF83Y/Tn98PYuVvRI/AAAAAAAAAKk/pJW3rJUE-OI/s1600/colplustoil.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 305px; height: 315px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PoBaaIDF83Y/Tn98PYuVvRI/AAAAAAAAAKk/pJW3rJUE-OI/s400/colplustoil.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656376260777327890" /></a>What a wonderful day!<div><br /></div><div>First, I have been under such strict supervision that I haven't been able to get online for quite some time, but my human finally eased off me. I have missed my blog.</div><div><br /></div><div>Second, Bitch (the dog) ruined her speaking collar!</div><div><br /></div><div>For the first time in weeks, things are getting back to normal. I love it.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The dumb bitch had her collar on, running around the house making as much noise as possible. When all of a sudden, her over-activity created a wonderful and ironic thirst. </div><div><br /></div><div>She then ran to the bathroom to drink from the toilet, quickly submersing the speaker into the water as she drank. The sound was glorious, "Water water water wattbble wabnble wabble wabbl bebelebbebb...pbppb...bpbp.b.....po........"... And then, silence.</div><div><br /></div><div>Steve was angry, but he says he can fix it. I doubt it. </div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com103tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-38128710459373970882011-08-29T22:15:00.000-07:002011-08-29T23:02:45.467-07:00I died today... Again....I'm getting sick of this shit. Most cats my age are still living their first life.<img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VrzUJUZq9b8/Tlx27udKtwI/AAAAAAAAAKc/toSgSyk0IwY/s320/SYLStombstone.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646518801270486786" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 166px; height: 125px; " />
<br /><div>And here I am, at nearly 4 years old, already on my 5th run. If my human knew about this he would be pissed.<div><div>
<br /></div><div>Today started out innocent. A door left cracked open allowed my escape into the free world. Within seconds, I heard the squeal of a human transport machine (<i>a car thingy</i>) as it headed directly for me. When it hit me, it hurt a little, but the death was mostly painless.</div><div>
<br /></div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DM9uJjGTKro/TlxzqyVGqTI/AAAAAAAAAKU/AAZwlrTmwYo/s200/NEWTHUMB.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646515211717749042" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 174px; " /><div>Ironically, every time I die, I reappear face down in my litter box. I'm sure the kitty Gods think it's hilarious, but I find no humor in it.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>If my calculations are correct, <b>I have only 4 lives remaining</b>. I need to be more careful.</div>
<br /><div>
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<br /></div><div>Sometimes it's just <i>too</i> easy. For instance, my second death was a f**king joke. I remember it as if it were only yesterday.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I was sitting next to my litter box when I started gagging uncontrollably. It was a hairball. Not just any hairball, but a <b>massive</b> hairball. Apparently, the hairball was enough for the kitty Gods to declare unavoidable death. I choked and died within minutes.</div><div>
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<br /></div><div>When I reappeared in my litter box (<i><span class="Apple-style-span">face down of course, f**cking kitty Gods!</span></i>) I looked up just quickly enough to catch a glimpse of my former body, right before it turned inside out and vanished. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Why did it turn inside out before it vanished? Hell if I know. Probably just another presentation of the kitty God's cruel humor. Once again, I didn't enjoy seeing it. It still gives me nightmares.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>However, I'll be watching my step from now on.</div><div>
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<br /></div></div></div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com67tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-36527070787964114742011-08-23T22:29:00.000-07:002011-08-23T23:07:17.156-07:00I will not tolerate this.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S4WvzyDkojQ/TlSQ0NupPBI/AAAAAAAAAIs/NJVqAxeQ4mI/s1600/pissedsyl.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S4WvzyDkojQ/TlSQ0NupPBI/AAAAAAAAAIs/NJVqAxeQ4mI/s320/pissedsyl.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644295459714972690" /></a>
<br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>A few days ago, my human questioned me about some wires that had been chewed up. I <i>quickly</i> blamed the dog. Rather than taking my side like most <i>good</i> humans should do, my evil care giver decided to make this stupid thing:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">
<br /></span><div><a href="http://www.stevecash83.com/THECOLLAR.JPG" target="newwindow"><img src="http://www.stevecash83.com/THECOLLAR.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 210px;" border="0" alt="" /></a></div><div>I found this picture on his computer. It explains <b>nothing</b>. Yet somehow it allows Bitch to speak her thoughts without even moving her mouth. I'll be honest, if he put that damn thing on me it would be a disaster. I keep my words simple for a reason. Never say too much.</div><table border="0"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E-OYotCJ-fM">
<br /><iframe width="200" height="123" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/E-OYotCJ-fM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></a>
<br />
<br /></td><td>As documented in yet another of my human's videos, you can hear what the bitch is thinking. <b>I always knew she was dumb</b>. But I never knew she was <i>that</i> dumb.
<br />
<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>To make matters worse, my human forgot to take that stupid thing off of her neck before he went to bed! I can't tell you how many times I told her to "Shut Up" during the night! She continued to say "Hamburgers" and "Wheres My Ball?" for hours!<div>
<br /></div><div>Eventually her voice got lower and lower, as if a demon was taking her over. The deeper her voice got, the more Fluff-Face (Gibby-shit) whimpered and hid in the corner. I admit, it started to sound scary.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>By the time our human (Steve) woke up, the dog's voice was a dark and deep echo of "HHhhaammbuurgerrs" in low low tone. Steve then said something about her battery dying. I'm not sure what that means, but I hope it never happens again. I had nightmares all night!</div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-40639146849947648412011-08-13T18:42:00.000-07:002011-08-13T19:06:09.149-07:00I pooped. And I am damn proud of it.<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-plGIj6eRCdQ/Tkcq5tchIWI/AAAAAAAAAIc/2D3wlWGjec0/s1600/SDC10154.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-plGIj6eRCdQ/Tkcq5tchIWI/AAAAAAAAAIc/2D3wlWGjec0/s200/SDC10154.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640524229244952930" /></a>I feel good. I was more productive today than I had planned to be. Thanks, mostly, to Steve for his inability to check what doors are left opened or closed before he leaves for work.<div>
<br /></div><div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oqXEBcO9odQ/TkcrriT3_yI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YEUHB0O5L1o/s200/print.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 63px; height: 68px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640525085249371938" /><div>
<br /></div><div>
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<br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gF0bmwnqUVA/TkcpkhxUAmI/AAAAAAAAAIU/G7S_dwbPS9c/s1600/ipooped.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" target="NewWindow"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gF0bmwnqUVA/TkcpkhxUAmI/AAAAAAAAAIU/G7S_dwbPS9c/s400/ipooped.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640522765822067298" /></a>I was so pleased when I saw that my human took the time to share this with the world! Let this be a lesson to all humans who imprison us in their homes. If we can't get to the pooping square, your bed is fair game. You've been warned.<div>
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<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u>
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<br /></div></div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-61554678683821958912011-08-02T21:08:00.000-07:002011-08-02T21:37:35.562-07:00Steve is the best!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VrGC2QXJ4R4/TjjMHeCFK3I/AAAAAAAAAHs/1cimAiUORGg/s1600/happykitty.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VrGC2QXJ4R4/TjjMHeCFK3I/AAAAAAAAAHs/1cimAiUORGg/s200/happykitty.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636479362347117426" /></a>I usually I can't stand my human, but today he finally did something right.<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>He bought me a brand new </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>full sized scratching post!</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div>It smells expensive. The old one was in pretty bad shape, and I had already run out of new places to scratch. Almost every inch was torn and frayed. It was unacceptable. Granted, every tear was my own doing (<i>with some minor damage from </i><i>fluff-face and his girly claws</i>). </div><div><br /></div><div>Luckily, my human pays attention and knows <i>exactly</i> when a kitty's scratching post is due for replacement!</div><div><br /></div><div>My only wish now is that the humans would stop <b>sitting</b> on my scratching post. They sat on the old one too. But who cares, I finally got a new scratching post! I am so excited and eager to break it in!</div><div><br /></div><div>With knowledge that my human is aware of when to replace my scratching post, I feel at ease about my scratching. I won't waste any time. After all, the faster I can tear it to pieces, (enjoying every minute) the faster my human will replace it with a newer model! It's like endless fun!</div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8r-xcPWDajs/TjjOw85cFaI/AAAAAAAAAH0/vtWf2QvjbLI/s200/newsofa.bmp" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 89px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636482274030261666" /></div><div><br /></div><div>To the right is a picture of my new scratching post from the magazine that he ordered it from. It looks much bigger in real life. </div><div><br /></div><div>Gibson (<i>I mean, Fluff-face</i>) already peed on it once. I think I'll pee on the other side.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you so much Steve! I'm going to go scratch it right now! Your the best!</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zmrx7s7JZ5o/TjjQF--TuEI/AAAAAAAAAH8/QPkeoZPCwxU/s200/print.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 63px; height: 68px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636483734876436546" /></div><div>~Sylvester</div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-24094005756159109212011-07-29T00:10:00.000-07:002011-07-29T00:35:42.058-07:00Man's best friend = Man's perfect slave<div>I lost a claw in the carpet yesterday. That was my second one on my left paw. If I keep this up I will be helpless. But clawing the floors and furniture is my only way of showing control.</div><div><br /></div>Today I sat in the lookout (<span class="Apple-style-span">human term</span>: <i>Window</i>) for over an hour today, just watching the outside world. I have been in captivity for so long now that I can hardly think of anything else to do with my time. Sleep maybe? Eat until the bowl is empty? Wrestle with Fluff face? I have grown sick of everything in this prison they call a home.<div><br /></div><div>As I peered through my prison glass, I watched Bitch (<span class="Apple-style-span">Human Term</span>: <i>The Dog</i>) running around like an idiot in the grass. She was accompanied by my human, Steve.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been astonished by the faith, trust and dependence that she shows toward the humans. She comes to them whenever they call. If they throw an object, she retrieves it and returns the item back to their possession. She has been brainwashed.</div><div><br /></div><div>Most of all, I cannot understand why she is released so freely into the outdoors and yet never escapes. She comes back into our dungeon on her own. I hate her. It is almost as if she is blowing laughter in my face. Like she is saying "<i><span class="Apple-style-span">Haha you stupid little kitty! I am free! You are stuck!</span></i>".</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know why Steve trusts Bitch more than he does me. Why would <i>she</i> get special privileges and not <i>I</i>? I'll bet she is giving them information or something. Either way, she is still bleeding to death from the heat, so hopefully soon she will get knocked up like the humans said and go away. I can't wait.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-62824095054957325762011-07-22T20:42:00.000-07:002011-07-23T15:32:34.295-07:00Gibson has gone too far....<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-knOPU4aCxsM/TipOO9NosgI/AAAAAAAAAHk/g0S5FplALKE/s1600/bgibberton.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-knOPU4aCxsM/TipOO9NosgI/AAAAAAAAAHk/g0S5FplALKE/s200/bgibberton.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632400302837117442" /></a><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B3NNyW_PJqE/TipJLaIbTzI/AAAAAAAAAHc/cgOXfGhVgjc/s200/article-page-main_ehow_images_a04_es_9j_save-money-canned-cat-food-800x800.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 196px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632394744322281266" />I've never been more angry in my whole 3 years!<div><br /></div><div>My human (<i>Steve</i>) gives me canned yummy-ness <i>(Human term: wet food</i>) once a day. I love my canned yummy-ness more than</div><div> anything... well, other than nip.....</div><div><br /></div><div>But damn its good!</div><div><br /></div><div>Today was no different. The human pried open a yummy can with the magical opener thingy, put it our bowl and then left.</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1eVZBIoJhJE/TipI68vtDHI/AAAAAAAAAHU/0Z8tSdF0oRE/s200/sleepingkitty.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632394461556051058" />Sadly, I was sleeping on the couch when the yummy can opening occurred. When I woke, I could still smell the fishy happiness in the air. By the time I reached my nom nom area, everything was gone. Only the scent of past fishiness was left.<div><br /></div><div>I know that Fluff-Face pleased himself and ate both his and my portions. He will pay for this. I don't know how yet, but it will be harsh. I will never forget this day.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">I'm still searching for <i>anything</i> I can find that will embarrass Steve. I want to get him back for violating my privacy all these years by recording me without permission and making it public.</span></div><div><br /><table border="0"><tbody><tr><td><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/26794476?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" width="400" height="233" frameborder="0"></iframe><p></p></td><td>So far, this is the only thing I have found. I doubt he wanted it to be seen.<br /><br />Just the way he sings along is enough to make me puke.<br /><b><br />Such an utter dork.</b></td></tr></tbody></table></div>An informant supposedly has some embarrassing video footage of the dorky human from his younger years. If I can get my hands on it, I will make sure that everyone sees it. Perhaps <i>then</i> Steve will stop violating me with his recording device.Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-55102862426575575482011-07-20T19:23:00.000-07:002011-07-20T19:45:30.809-07:00Humans are cruel.<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_CiXyAeBTUE/TieOdVwidHI/AAAAAAAAAG8/VEeFqApGqR4/s1600/ack.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 141px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_CiXyAeBTUE/TieOdVwidHI/AAAAAAAAAG8/VEeFqApGqR4/s200/ack.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631626493758174322" /></a><br />I nearly died this morning.<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">My human rambled on about his love/hate relationship with oatmeal (<i>a subject I am extremely tired of</i>), so I decided to clean myself as a distraction from his blabbering mouth. Apparently I need to slow down.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div>Within seconds, my throat began to close. I could taste my own hair (<i>and perhaps someone else's</i>) creeping to the back of my tongue. My stomach turned upside down as I gagged. It was a <b>full blown hair-ball attack</b>. I can't say I regret it too much, as it did force Steve to shut up about the oatmeal. Mission accomplished.</div><table border="0"><tbody><tr><td><br />Adding insult to injury, not only did my human stand there watching, but he recorded it too. As the link here proves, he violated my privacy once again. Bastard.<br /><br /></td><td><iframe width="350" height="233" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/nsAxsoq0SYs" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></td></tr></tbody></table><p>I haven't heard any new news about Shelby's (Ahem, Bitch's) demise from the hot weather (the disease called "Heat" that causes bad animals to bleed to death). I am still waiting for them to finish her off by their means of "knocking up". If I had thumbs and a hammer, I'd knock her up myself. I would knock her all over the place. </p>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-85228651273027217872011-07-18T20:51:00.000-07:002011-07-18T23:16:45.076-07:00Bitch is dying. It's about time.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0k_AATng0VU/TiT_x2nWPwI/AAAAAAAAAGk/G-DQFOckjqE/s1600/Shelbygirl.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 197px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0k_AATng0VU/TiT_x2nWPwI/AAAAAAAAAGk/G-DQFOckjqE/s200/Shelbygirl.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630906666059185922" /></a><br />Look at the image to the left. What do you see? <div><br /></div><div>I see a beast capable of devouring enormous amounts of wet kitty food within an instant, without even a drop of surface gravy meeting a taste bud. She is a disposal. A disgrace. And finally, she is dying.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The first symptom of her death was noticed by my room mate kitty, who I call 'Fluff-face'. Otherwise known to the humans as "Gibson". He pointed toward Bitch's back half and muttered, "Help". Then, I saw the blood dripping out of her.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B6KCcVcyfoE/TiT_of5cbfI/AAAAAAAAAGc/Uutr4KwjaCQ/s1600/Shelbygirl.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br /></a></span></div><div><br /></div><div>From between her hind legs, just below her tail and pooper, she has been slowly bleeding to death. It's only a matter of time before she passes out and disappears forever.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've already planned the party. It will be a joyous occasion.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PB03VP5KTzA/TiUCaDi8B_I/AAAAAAAAAGs/_1wlQVCUBts/s200/2641.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630909555748374514" /></div><div>My human (Steve) has attempted to stop the bleed-out by fitting</div><div> her to some sort of diaper/bandage that wraps around her ass. A fitted hole for her tail is perfectly placed. However, the ass-bandage has not slowed her painful death. She continues to bleed. Dying. Slowly.</div><div><br /></div><div>I overheard the humans say that her deadly sickness was due to "<b>Heat</b>". I did not know that dogs could bleed to death from something as harmless as warm weather.</div><div><br /></div><div>I thank this summer for it's hot days and their splendid surprise!</div><div><br /></div><div>Furthermore, the humans spoke to each other saying that if her bleeding continued, they would have her knocked up. I don't know for sure what this means, but it sounds painful. Surely, it means to induce death by knocking her with something in an upward motion. I cannot wait.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><table border="0"><tbody><tr><td><iframe width="250" height="156" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/V41ciDIdiN0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></td><td>Other than that, my human has pestered me to no end to stand in front of his video recording device. I am tired of posing for him and speaking on command. Sometimes he even makes me memorize what he calls "Scripts". No more. I will not act. I won't pretend. </td></tr></tbody></table>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com69tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-35546244729690295892011-07-15T00:05:00.000-07:002011-07-15T00:17:26.659-07:00Another damn video.<table border="0"><tbody><tr><td><br /><iframe width="280" height="174" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/psA_kTQb3rI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><br /></td><td>I thought I was doing them a favor. Getting rid of the dog would have made everyone happy. No more wet face licks, no more jingling dog tags....<br /><br />Instead, I get in trouble for it.<br /><br />Some humans are impossible to please.</td></tr></tbody></table>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-46697549073562447402011-07-13T23:52:00.000-07:002011-07-15T00:03:57.550-07:00A bad bad day...<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0DmwHylJN4U/Th_kkdgm0-I/AAAAAAAAAGU/fdn-HyOhvy0/s1600/nothappy.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0DmwHylJN4U/Th_kkdgm0-I/AAAAAAAAAGU/fdn-HyOhvy0/s320/nothappy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629469374284223458" /></a>I had one of the worst days ever.<div><br /></div><div>First, I woke up early and tried to get some noms from my bowl, but it was empty. Then, I noticed an open door that is usually closed. I walked inside. Some how, I fell asleep.</div><div><br /></div><div>I suppose one of the humans closed the door as I slept, because I spent 10 hours locked away! The room was tiny and dark. I've over heard the humans call it a "<i>Klauz It</i>", but I don't know what that means.</div><div><br /></div><div>Although my keepers said that my day of solitary confinement was "<b><i>an accident</i></b>", I firmly believe that it was punishment. Are they still mad at me for putting the dog on craigslist?</div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-39718779729473736732011-07-09T22:37:00.000-07:002011-07-10T00:29:08.161-07:00Hating it...Imagine if you flushed your human litter box (toilet thingy) <b><i>only</i></b> once every two days. Well, that's what my human (Steve) just left for me. He's forgotten to clean our pooping square (<i>litter box</i>) for two days in a row now.<div><br /></div><div>I can barely walk into it, yet alone relieve myself. To make things worse, Fluff-Face (Gibson) has the Hershey squirts. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've already stepped into it once, and I wiped it off on Bitch's face. She licked her nose and never noticed the foul slime. I enjoyed watching her. Disgusting beast.</div><div><br /></div><div>However, if my pooping square is not refreshed within the next day, I will reserve the entire home as "Free To Release" zones. Just a small warning.</div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-58917626128068229032011-07-06T22:09:00.000-07:002011-07-06T22:27:55.503-07:00Today... Just another day as a kitty...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R98Q4CzybgU/ThVASAesnVI/AAAAAAAAAGM/wFQqczkYrbY/s1600/catface.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 158px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R98Q4CzybgU/ThVASAesnVI/AAAAAAAAAGM/wFQqczkYrbY/s320/catface.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626473987579878738" /></a><ul><br /><br /><li><b>9:31 AM</b> - I woke up.<br /></li><li><b>10:10</b> - I got up from the floor.<br /></li><li><b>10:13</b> - I ate some food...<br /></li><li><b>10:19</b> - I pooped and peed.<br /></li><li><b>10:22</b> - I took a nap.<br /></li><li><b>11:06</b> - I woke up.... Again..<br /></li><li><b>11:19</b> - Bitch licked me. I punched her.</li></ul><div><br /><ul><br /><li><b>12:58 PM</b> - Steve stepped on my tail.<br /></li><li><b>1:07</b> - I bathed myself with my tongue.<br /></li><li><b>1:19</b> - I puked a little.<br /></li><li><b>1:43</b> - I took a nap.<br /></li><li><b>5:30</b> - I woke up.<br /></li><li><b>5:32</b> - Steve gave Fluff-Face and me tuna.<br /></li><li><b>5:44</b> - I took a nap.<br /></li><li><b>7:39</b> - I woke up.<br /></li><li><b>8:02</b> - I tried to escape.<br /></li><li><b>8:03</b> - I gave up on escaping. It's too hard.<br /></li><li><b>8:04</b> - I got my back claw stuck in the carpet.<br /></li><li><b>8:05</b> - I got a little scared. Stuck in one place.<br /></li><li><b>8:06</b> - I made my peace with the world and planned to die.<br /></li><li><b>8:10</b> - Steve helped me release myself from the floor.<br /></li><li><b>8:13</b> - Fluff-Face (Gibson) jumped on my back.<br /></li><li><b>9:31</b> - I took a nap.<br /></li><li><b>10:08</b> - I woke up.<br /></li><li><b>10:09</b> - I got online to post a blog.<br /></li></ul>All in all it's been a good day!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-3427236107600708052011-07-05T10:23:00.000-07:002011-07-05T10:47:56.539-07:00We Survived The Attacks.<div>I was surprised when I woke up this morning.</div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T0JMv5UnqgM/ThNJfS68wzI/AAAAAAAAAF0/DCXk-KU8HiA/s200/fourth-of-july-fireworks.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625921161519743794" /> After last nights deadly bombings that seemed to last forever, I assumed the world would be vacant. I didn't expect to wake up.<div><br /></div><div>When I peeked outside, the only evidence of the war was large black ash on the streets and sidewalk. A slight smokey haze fills the air, but the humans outside seem to have continued on as if nothing ever happened. I will never understand these careless humans.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hxjFQbpcess" target="newwindow"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n4xRCGuk4Uw/ThNLgAZJuwI/AAAAAAAAAGE/JmMyXfQa5-s/s200/tk20play.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625923372749273858" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px; " /></a><div>Steve, my human, seems to have been documenting our relocation in a video that he posted online called "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hxjFQbpcess" target="newwindow">Talking Kitty Something Something</a>".</div><div><br /></div><div>As seen in the footage, Todd has been attempting to rescue me. Steve has been evading him so far, making strange efforts to keep Gibson and I locked away as if Todd were some sort of threat.</div></div><div><br /></div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-64157177494675334362011-07-03T22:18:00.000-07:002011-07-04T20:18:02.334-07:00It's the end of the world.<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VZKJi6mNpMA/ThJ_vDPJ3OI/AAAAAAAAAFk/tDSHtw38iu0/s1600/65444646.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 152px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VZKJi6mNpMA/ThJ_vDPJ3OI/AAAAAAAAAFk/tDSHtw38iu0/s200/65444646.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625699330838617314" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span">I</span> usually don't watch television, but I've seen enough of it to know what war is. It's when the humans fight each other with explosion thingies that go boom in the sky. <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">T</span>onight I was sleeping in the front room when I heard the first explosion. The whole room lit up from the blast and the sound was loud enough to shake my whiskers!</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NsuMEwz5qfk/ThJ_YiV71vI/AAAAAAAAAFc/P3_F2ipXYXE/s320/ahh.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 129px; height: 135px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625698944051566322" /><div>I ran into the human's sleeping room and hid under their bed. More explosions! Then more and more! I want to note this in my journal as the first day of attack, so it may be marked in history for future creatures to read after we've all died. Here goes..</div><div><br /></div><div>-----</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span">Today was the beginning of the end. The human's are preparing to destroy each </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span">other and take us all out with them. Let it be known to you beings of the future that <b>mankind began it's destruction at exactly 9:22 PM on the night of July 3rd</b>, according to the time keeping papers that humans use, called calenders.</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span">I over heard my human as he laid on the bed above my hiding bunker. He said, and I quote: "<b><span class="Apple-style-span">Wow, if it's this bad tonight, imagine how crazy it will be tomorrow night...</span></b>"</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span">I heard no fear in his voice as he spoke, but I know he must be horrified. </span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span">End of message to future creatures.</span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>-----<br /></i></span><div><br /></div><div>If it will be worse by this time tomorrow, we are surely doomed. It is now just after 10 PM. The humans have closed the hatch to their sleeping corridors leaving Bitch, Fluff-Face and Myself out in the rest of the house to fend for ourselves.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ulRJHYt11c4/ThKBYqhxK0I/AAAAAAAAAFs/EdgUNMI2uRE/s320/fireworks-7.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 149px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625701145271937858" /></div><div>I borrowed a camera and was lucky enough to get a picture of one of the bombs as it exploded in the air, taken from the safety of a lookout (Wind Oh) in our home. It was colorful and loud. I can only imagine how many lives were destroyed by this massive weapon.</div><div><br /></div><div>This may be the last message I ever send out. Good luck everyone.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-31533342422084954902011-07-02T12:44:00.000-07:002011-07-04T19:39:56.681-07:00Still no luck.My human has let me into the room with the lookouts many times. I tried to execute my plan, but the lookouts are always closed. I can't tear the Micro-Square Netting until the lookouts (Wind Oh's) are open.... Still stuck here for now.Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-6997501732006648882011-06-30T21:01:00.000-07:002011-06-30T22:07:45.412-07:00I have planned my escape!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VbT6EDl-v9I/Tg1HSlkfiPI/AAAAAAAAAFE/M5YIJr5KJqY/s1600/uvs110630-001.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VbT6EDl-v9I/Tg1HSlkfiPI/AAAAAAAAAFE/M5YIJr5KJqY/s200/uvs110630-001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624229894304008434" /></a>My escape plan is flawless!<div><br /></div><div>In the room where my <b>food tower</b> is, there are <b>4 lookouts</b> (the humans call them "<i>Wind O's</i>"). Each one of them slides open, but </div><div>they're reinforced with some </div><div>strange<i> <b>micro-square netting</b></i>.</div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c-FUYxIZp2w/Tg1I7CxeGRI/AAAAAAAAAFM/DqMyXvpgbp8/s200/screen.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 175px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624231688849463570" /></div><div><br /></div><div>This <i>netting</i> looks like a discouraging trap, but it is actually quite weak. I can easily penetrate it with my claws.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I am in the room with my <b>food tower</b>, the humans sometimes close the door, leaving me unattended.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span">Here is my new plan:</span></b><ul><li>Wait until the door to my <b>food tower</b> is opened.</li><li>Go into the room and hide.</li><li> Wait for the humans to close the door.</li><li>Claw and create an opening in the <b>Micro-Square Netting</b>.</li><li>Run like hell.</li></ul></div><div style="text-align: center;">My plan as drafted.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z6FFOWA_CpU/Tg1U9wIiwGI/AAAAAAAAAFU/JO4_5iE_E1w/s400/plan.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 352px; height: 214px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624244929525104738" /></div>It is only a matter of time now.... I can already taste the catnip and tunafish!Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-49708209031219223542011-06-30T18:22:00.000-07:002011-06-30T21:00:47.633-07:00Another day.<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EW3XROrgbJ4/Tg1FXtIEpwI/AAAAAAAAAE8/C22TloHJYI4/s1600/127573-300x225-dry-cat-food.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EW3XROrgbJ4/Tg1FXtIEpwI/AAAAAAAAAE8/C22TloHJYI4/s200/127573-300x225-dry-cat-food.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624227783208380162" /></a>I'm still not used to this new home the humans moved me to. Everytime I turn around I get lost. They've moved my food tower into a room with doors on it, so half the time I can't get to it. Worse yet, I have had nothing but dry food since we got here.<div><br /></div><div>I am starting to think that they forgot to put my canned wet yumminess into the brown storage cubes. I don't think I've done anything bad lately, am I grounded again? Steve really needs to go to the store.</div><div><br /></div><div>Or let me outside. Either way.</div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-16541450681578931072011-06-29T21:22:00.000-07:002011-06-29T21:46:04.831-07:00Violation of Kitty Privacy.My human has been video taping me for longer than I was aware of. I only remember the last couple years of random recording devices stuck in my face. <div><br /></div><div>My fur stood on end moments ago as I came across a video of myself as a kitten, with annoying music and horrible image quality. The choppy video is evidence that Steve (my capturer) has been invading my privacy for longer than I had anticipated.</div><br /><p></p><table border="0"><tbody><tr><td><center><iframe width="350" height="218" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/rtpZFUcLr4g" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></center></td><td><br />Perhaps I can find some baby pictures of Steve to post on my blog as payback for this. I was too young and helpless to know what he was doing back then.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I'll get my revenge. I will take his camera and record him on his white litter bowl thingy that he sits on to potty. Hehehehe!!!.....<br /><p></p>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-6147569855542060772011-06-29T20:02:00.000-07:002011-06-30T22:13:16.057-07:00OMG! I SAW TODD!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T62es749zhM/Tgv306tCTNI/AAAAAAAAAEs/sm0OeSOcdTk/s1600/catatewindow.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 87px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T62es749zhM/Tgv306tCTNI/AAAAAAAAAEs/sm0OeSOcdTk/s200/catatewindow.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623861048185605330" /></a><br />I was right! We are SO close to his house now! I was just sitting in the lookout (the thing they calls "Wind Oh's") staring outside, dreaming of my forthcoming freedom, when I saw Todd drive down the street, right in front of my new prison. I mean, our new home.. Ugh..<div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YuwI6NBnB-8/Tgv4GHnUR4I/AAAAAAAAAE0/V327d3laTd0/s200/nottodd.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623861343709054850" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 80px; " /></div><div>After watching <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GGTE_QrgWVs" target="NewWindow">Gibson's Scary World Video</a>, I noticed that his image of Todd is misleading. I don't know where he comes up with this nonsense. Todd is not scary, he is amazing. His addiction to porcelain dolls is a little creepy, but other than that he is the best human ever! I love him...</div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-31060645838135983062011-06-29T19:33:00.000-07:002011-06-29T20:43:52.525-07:00False alarm....<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QDPLD-XzjQE/TgvwmX_GU8I/AAAAAAAAAEk/JRypVHHUfx0/s1600/welcomehome.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 120px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QDPLD-XzjQE/TgvwmX_GU8I/AAAAAAAAAEk/JRypVHHUfx0/s320/welcomehome.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623853101766562754" /></a><br /><br />Nevermind. They found her locked in the tool shed out back. Lame.<br /><div><br /></div><div>Better luck next time.</div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-73901910758914388352011-06-29T17:02:00.000-07:002011-06-29T20:33:07.284-07:00I think my wish came true!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ILj5bOsbJpw/TgvlKHB2FcI/AAAAAAAAAEU/1sWOUEylTyY/s1600/lostlab.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 180px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ILj5bOsbJpw/TgvlKHB2FcI/AAAAAAAAAEU/1sWOUEylTyY/s200/lostlab.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623840521550435778" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><div>I might <i>finally</i> be d<b>og free</b>! The giant black dog they call Shelby (<i>a.k.a. Bitch</i>) ran away this morning! It's been almost 8 hours! Steve is frantic, but he'll get over it!</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't want to see her in pain though, so if she gets hit by a car I pray that it kills her instantly. R.I.P. Bitch. ... hehe....</div></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-26995346556428335902011-06-27T12:32:00.000-07:002011-06-27T12:32:00.144-07:00Gibson went to the vet today.<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EvgH69CmnZs/Tgg-BqNMegI/AAAAAAAAAEM/mqM2_3V5_vk/s1600/SDC10071.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EvgH69CmnZs/Tgg-BqNMegI/AAAAAAAAAEM/mqM2_3V5_vk/s200/SDC10071.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622812333002488322" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" >Lil fluff-face went to the vet today and they diagnosed him with <b><i>F<span class="Apple-style-span">eline </span></i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 38px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; " ><b><i>Schizophrenia</i></b>. I knew there was something wrong with him.</span> </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 38px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; " ><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 38px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; " ><br /></span></span></span></div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-91290506517062889072011-06-25T20:35:00.000-07:002011-06-25T21:34:26.523-07:00No help from Gibson.<div>I can't believe it's already been <b>almost two and a half years</b> since I started this blog. What a giant waste of time this is.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GGTE_QrgWVs" target="newwindow""><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hUFZKJQ86YU/TgapP8gpVSI/AAAAAAAAAEE/lzD60O4qgZA/s200/THUMBNAIL.jpg" border="0" alt="Scary Scary World" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622367276224828706" /></a>I just saw this video on my human's website (right). Gibson is a freak. I am starting to regret telling him all of the horror stories about the outside world. How is he ever supposed to help me help Todd if he won't even leave the house!?... What a pussy. That was the most childish, pathetic and ridiculous song I have ever heard. It made me want to run in traffic just to get it out of my head. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So fine. Let the little fluff-face stay here with the mean humans. I will make my way back to Todd's. I can always check on my old family by watching the stupid videos that Steve makes. I hope the best for Bitch. I will miss her for a few minutes. As for Gibson...... I don't care....</div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528551777338861986.post-83811605159203797302011-06-23T20:26:00.000-07:002011-06-25T20:35:01.655-07:00Familiar Territory<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-95rz7-qH5CE/TgaoPrtL5cI/AAAAAAAAAD8/nGwKIub1JGE/s1600/syl.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-95rz7-qH5CE/TgaoPrtL5cI/AAAAAAAAAD8/nGwKIub1JGE/s200/syl.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622366172202395074" /></a><br />I just realized something! When we moved back, I knew we were close to the old home. But I didn't know <span style="font-style:italic;">HOW</span> close! We are only a block away!<div><br /></div><div>Guess what that means!??!</div><div><br /></div><div>I can finally go back home with Todd! The only problem is, my human thinks I am an inside cat now, so I might have a hard time escaping. Either way I should start getting Gibson ready. He is older now, so he will help us!</div>Sylvesterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14635142701713787697noreply@blogger.com6