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monkeygirl

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Posts posted by monkeygirl

  1. I wish I had audio for this, it made me LOLOL...

     

    I think there's a flying bug in the house, the baby's sitting, looking up in the air and meowing, but that's not why I'm posting.

     

    He just came running in from the living room; trotting, really, and he was doing a low, constant meow the whole way but he had some speed so every time his tiny pads hit the floor, it sort of jogged his voice. I didn't see him, only heard it. I thought Katherine Hepburn was coming at me from behind!

  2. Oh, yes, she'll love Green Lake, it's butt-sniffing heaven.

     

    POOR antlered doggie, eye of the wolf!!

     

    BOB IS the ****, isn't he? I've always wanted a cat named Bob, preferably a female, but none of mine have ever been a Bob. Bob is THE BOB and I love him so from across the miles! BOB is a cat's cat, yo.

  3. What do you see in there? Spoiled? Obnoxious? Cute and knows it? Any of those will just about cover it.

    Everything but obnoxious...she is SO TEH SWEEET! Can we PLEASE get together in 2010 so I can meet her in person? I want to rub her ears on my face! Spolied, CUTE CUTE CUTE and knows it, LOVED and knows it, goofball tendencies, clumsy, sensitive....THAT's what I see. Also, she's one of those person-in-a-dog-suit dogs. You look in her eyes and something's there, not just dumb doggie brain.

     

    ... she is all up our butt because she saw us packing. She keeps following us around like she is afraid we will forget her, and she keeps running downstairs to the garage door like "Let's go!" But she's finally worn out and curled up next to the couch.

    It's tough for her! She doesn't like ti when you move her cheese and even less when you might be going with it and leaving her behind. After all, you forget her and leave her behind almost every day!

     

    Sulis, at least Bob didn't bring his offering into to bed. Mmmm... breakfast in bed!

     

    Didn't think of that...EEEYEW!

  4. That's great!...She's clearly a better kitty than Jesus!

    EVERYBODY is a better kitty than Jesus. I even have seizure-inducing lights under the fake snow and he doesn't seem to be bothered by them. This morning, I woke to find he'd chewed open one of my carefully-wrapped gifts. He also still has food issues. I have to clean the kitchen before I eat dinner or he's in there licking the saute pan clean before it's cooled down or shoving his giant head in the garbage disposal to get at the fat cut off the meat. And the baby-who I haven' t yet named- is learning all his bad habits. I know where the term copy cat came from now.

     

    dad has taken a stand and says our cats take priority

    Can you find Dad another home? SRSLY, I get this, but could you build kitty a shelter or something?

     

    which I get to scrape up off the patio!

    I know, but he LOVES you and is bringing you the best compliments!

     

    My dogs knocked over the tree while they were playing

    I'm afraid that's my next surprise from the fur babies. They're lucky they're cute.

  5. YAY for BOB! He's bringing you holiday gifts!

     

    Did you ever find Pedro?

     

    My kittehs are RUINING Christmas. Jesus makes a bed under the tree every night and EATS the damn fake snow. The baby wiggles hisself in there with him and there's not a lot of room; the tree is very full. Little rodents.

  6. Her pink mohair pillbox hat secured, Phyllis took one last look at herself in the shabby-chic-framed mirror in her small entryway, which she insisted on calling 'the lobby', deemed herself smart enough to go out in public and skipped sideways down the brownstone's front steps, silently congratulating herself on the purchase of her snappy, new leopard-print flats-only $12.99 from Zappos!

     

    Phyllis fancied herself a Jackie Kennedy look-a-like, but truth be told, she more closely resembled Jackie Mason. In her tightly-coiffed head, this gift from Mother Nature carried with it an enormous responsibility: to be absolutely diligent about grooming and fashion, for to seem less than tidy would not only reflect poorly on her, but could have the unintended consequence of besmirching the name of one of the most beautiful and famous women of all time and Phyllis Stookley wasn't about to let that happen on her watch.

  7. Summer reminded everyone of Gracie. Like George Bailey did in "It's A Wonderful Life", Gracie profoundly touched seemingly everyone in Perfect, and as tiny as it is, that's still remarkable. Before her unlikely birth, back on the first day of the sunny season in '02, this was a bitter, unfriendly place known for its callous inhospitable demeanor. One small, lovely child changed that and the hopes of each person here in 7 and 1/2 short years, but now, they were facing the first season without her. Gracie was gone, and with her went the hearts of 168 people who would express the anguish of their loss by turning on each other and tearing this fine place to shreds.

  8. Pigs, man, they're all ****ing pigs. Them four mighta been doin' nothin' at the time, but they's pigs and they made a decision to become pigs and pigs deserve to ****in' die. They're ****in' stupid, too, man, know what I'm sayin'? 'cause here I ****in' sit, right where I gunned 'em down not 2 days ago and some other poor ****in' dude paid that price. So I get home free, bitches, and I ain't even done yet. thing is, I got some ****in' power and nobody can ****in' stop me now I do, not even that crazy bitch down on Rainier who gave it to me 'cause ****in' pigs ain't the only one I killed that day.

  9. MOAR:

     

    Hammie was the kind of guy nobody ****ed with; not so much because of the verbally-spewed admonishment he issued forth to every poor soul who crossed his oily path but more due to the needle in the gut you'd feel upon making eye contact with those closely and deeply-set, too-bright optical orbs that told you there's a whole lot of crazy going on under that damp, Jherri-curled rug he called his 'honey-drip catcher', IF you caught his drift.

  10. Here is one:

     

     

     

     

    Peter Fonda was dead; at least he was when I fell asleep last night, not that I had any way of checking such a thing, but there he was on Letterman, chatting up his latest film. Sure, I wasn't quite awake yet but I clearly remembered his death; it was back in June of '69, right after Duane Allman bit it on his bike, getting impaled by a wayward piece of re-bar that flew off a flatbed in front of him. And this wasn't the only thing that seemed...off today.

  11. And YOU obviously like internal parasites!

     

    Not that there's anything wrong with that.

     

    Pixie came tearing through the living room with the blanket in her mouth

     

    OMG. PX PLEASE!!! I have never seen this. My Pigboy had a ribbon he'd hold in his mouth and let trail under him, but a blanket? This is new to me!

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