Hay Max, they got my bro to come liv with us!!!!! This has bin the best week of my life! But why is it that Banzai looks like me and is NOT my bro, but my reel bro is blak! Banzai sez its cuz my mom was a ho. Shood I beet Banzai up?
Naw, beating him up just wastes energy you could use playing with your brother. And don’t let Banzai get to you—I’m pretty sure my mom was a ho and my dad was some random alley cat that wandered by at just the right time and had his way with her for half a can of gooshy food and a Snickers bar, but that doesn’t stop me from being pure awesomeness. Banzai is just upset because he doesn’t have his bro there, and you do. You might even need to be NICE to him.
That’s right. I said it.
It sounds really difficult, but I’ve discovered that when I’m nice, real live fresh dead meaty treats tend to appear. So you have that to look forward to.
And congrats on your bro coming to live with you! YOU’RE RELATED TO BASEMENT KITTY! Sweet.
I once thought Basement Kitty had come to live with me, but he rolled over and there was white on his belly, so it’s just Buddah, which isn’t worth getting excited about.
Dear Max, I read your blog, too, and sometimes you complain about the Woman not wearing any pants. What happens when the doorbell rings? We’re really curious. Does she put pants on?
When the doorbell rings she gets up and answers it without even THINKING about putting pants on! Most of the time it’s the UPS dood, but cripes, he drops the packages and runs away, it’s so disturbing.
Oh. She’s over her trying to tell me she has lycra shorts on and those count as pants, but doods…no, they do not. I promise you, they do not.
Max. Now my mom is singing “Come Saturday Morning.” And she doesn’t know all the words, so it’s just that over and over again. WHY?
- She’s still old
- She’s so old she doesn’t know any new songs
- She’s drinking again.
We can chip in and buy her some iTunes cards so she can get some newer music. I suggest a really awesome CD called “American Idiot.” For realz.
Max, my cat has been enthralled with the political debates recently. He sits in the middle of the floor and stares at the TV for long stretches, and it seems like he’s paying attention. Why is he so interested?
He can’t comprehend the magnitude of stupidity he’s witnessing. That and all the hot air. Cats like blowing hot air. It feels nice on the furs, and makes us sleepy.
But mostly…yeah, he’s blown away by the sheer inanity of it all.
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