Belly at Large: the Naughty Corner
Hello boys and girls,
'Sup? I don't know why but I've been so grumpy lately. And my attitude cost me dearly. Before I said something, please don't blame it on the mamarazzi. Blame it on the scorching weather outside that makes it impossible to stay cool. I am up to a vacation at the Arctic. Ok, Antarctica would be fine, too. Anywhere but this Sunshine State, this scorching weather, and this oil spill.
You see, I have my schedule: two hours sleeping here, an hour napping there, a couple of hours doing security detail around the hood, fifteen minute pondering about what to write for my column and make the mamarazzi write it. Sush, you didn't hear the last part, ok? I totally gave her the idea, she's just my ghost writer.
But you get the idea, right? It's hard out there for a cat. About two nights ago, I came to pitch the idea and she played with me. The mamarazzi watched this documentation on TV about obese dogs and cats and now she put me on a string jump catch training event. Hopefully I'll be ready for the 2012 Olympic Games in London.
And then Whatshisface came out and petted me. I kinda have a love-hate relationship with Whatshisface. He's cute and cuddly and all but I want the mamarazzi all for myself. And I had to come up with something fast before Whatshisface started his global domination agenda all over again. You know he did it before with President Roosevelt and all.
So the mamarazzi petted me with one hand and held Whatshisface in another.
"Put him down," I said.
She ignored my command but kept on rubbing my head. I repeated the command. Human can be so dense sometimes. She didn't listen. So I clawed her.
She yelped, "Belly, why did you do that?"
"I didn't do anything. Keep on rubbing my head, woman!" I said.
She presumed her task but didn't put Whatshisface away. So I clawed her again. It was not exactly a full-throttle claw, more of a warning but this time, she had it.
"You are a naughty kitty. Why did you do that again?" she said. Then she uttered the most dreadful phrase, "Go to the naughty corner now!"
Uh oh! Someone watched too many episodes of "Super Nanny"! I went to the naughty corner before and it was bad, really really bad. Believe me, kids and kittens, you don't want to sit there. It's like Dart Vader-slash-Voldermort bad, not Michael Jackson "Bad".
Remember what happened the last time, I immediately apologized. I nudged my head into her scratched arm, hoping she would pet me. She did, it works all the time.
In retrospect, I shouldn't have scratched the mamarazzi. Whatshisface cannot be compared to me. I shouldn't let jealousy clouding my judgment. I love the mamarazzi too much for that.
But the bear has to go. One way or another, I will make it happen. I'll get rid of him and make a step closer to global domination. Cats FTW!
Love, peace, and tuna fish,
Mr. Belly
P.S: This blog is mine. If you like it, please
subscribe to my feed. Thanks a lot!
'Sup? I don't know why but I've been so grumpy lately. And my attitude cost me dearly. Before I said something, please don't blame it on the mamarazzi. Blame it on the scorching weather outside that makes it impossible to stay cool. I am up to a vacation at the Arctic. Ok, Antarctica would be fine, too. Anywhere but this Sunshine State, this scorching weather, and this oil spill.
 |
| Definitely not in a good mood |
You see, I have my schedule: two hours sleeping here, an hour napping there, a couple of hours doing security detail around the hood, fifteen minute pondering about what to write for my column and make the mamarazzi write it. Sush, you didn't hear the last part, ok? I totally gave her the idea, she's just my ghost writer.
But you get the idea, right? It's hard out there for a cat. About two nights ago, I came to pitch the idea and she played with me. The mamarazzi watched this documentation on TV about obese dogs and cats and now she put me on a string jump catch training event. Hopefully I'll be ready for the 2012 Olympic Games in London.
And then Whatshisface came out and petted me. I kinda have a love-hate relationship with Whatshisface. He's cute and cuddly and all but I want the mamarazzi all for myself. And I had to come up with something fast before Whatshisface started his global domination agenda all over again. You know he did it before with President Roosevelt and all.
So the mamarazzi petted me with one hand and held Whatshisface in another.
"Put him down," I said.
She ignored my command but kept on rubbing my head. I repeated the command. Human can be so dense sometimes. She didn't listen. So I clawed her.
She yelped, "Belly, why did you do that?"
"I didn't do anything. Keep on rubbing my head, woman!" I said.
She presumed her task but didn't put Whatshisface away. So I clawed her again. It was not exactly a full-throttle claw, more of a warning but this time, she had it.
"You are a naughty kitty. Why did you do that again?" she said. Then she uttered the most dreadful phrase, "Go to the naughty corner now!"
Uh oh! Someone watched too many episodes of "Super Nanny"! I went to the naughty corner before and it was bad, really really bad. Believe me, kids and kittens, you don't want to sit there. It's like Dart Vader-slash-Voldermort bad, not Michael Jackson "Bad".
 |
| Naughty corner kitten |
 |
| Me sitting in the naughty corner glowering. Guess who sat on top mocking me? That's Whatshisface! |
In retrospect, I shouldn't have scratched the mamarazzi. Whatshisface cannot be compared to me. I shouldn't let jealousy clouding my judgment. I love the mamarazzi too much for that.
But the bear has to go. One way or another, I will make it happen. I'll get rid of him and make a step closer to global domination. Cats FTW!
Love, peace, and tuna fish,
Mr. Belly
P.S: This blog is mine. If you like it, please
subscribe to my feed. Thanks a lot!Category Article Belly at Large
