And yes your Royal Highness, I did indeed miss you much. Please don't make this cryogenic freezer stuff a habit. ;)

So.

You know how sometimes you're watching daytime telly and there'd be these 1-800 ads on selling you anything from funeral insurance to a super-absorbent-made-in-Germany-overpriced-rag?

I got bored and decided to sign up for being Cryogenically Frozen.


It was great for the first 2 minutes. Kinda like those Sensory Deprivation Tanks... where you can't hear other annoying peeping cats and everyone leaves you alone.

Then it got old really quick, and next time I think I'll take a getaway to Fiji instead.

But yeah, that's where I've been.

And now I'm back! Haaiiiiyyaah! *nunchuck-ninja-move!*

Or you can settle for this: my attempt to do the bird.


That's right, my pretty bitter crab apple, Queen Rogueness is back. Hope you didn't miss me much.

Smooches,
-R

Like you've been modeling for the webworld?







You have to admit, the resemblance is uncanny.

How did I find these photos you ask? Well, my roommate left her laptop open to this site:


And low and behold...in the sidebar I notice:

Holy cowbell! That's a freaky looking eyeball-less, turmeric-stained cat!

Nowhere as pretty as you, my puss. Look how cute and chubby (and not angry looking) you were back then. Aww... now go show it to the roomie and get her to feed you more!

I started feeling better after that reversal injection, and man, it's like I've got the munchies ever since! Maybe it's coz my teeth don't hurt like a bitch anymore or I lost a life in the incident, but man. Hungry hungry!

The other day, we found ourselves a little peeping tom. Look at the fatty on the edge of the roof:


Look at him taunt us! With his bored expression, static-cling fur explosion, and quite simply, his effortless FREEDOM!

So finally today, the momkins let us out to the yard for a smidge.

So okay, so I have a problem with lunging for any form of chlorophyll, chowing it down, and then throwing it up on the carpet. Big deal.

So fine, I did that to a bunch of lilies once and nearly died and had to have emergency treatment. So what? That's a stupid excuse to treat me like a prisoner.

I mean, look at my desperate and pathetic joy upon breathing the fresh scent of freedom!





And then the prison warden rang her sinister bells. So I'm back indoors. Blogging. On a beautiful sunny day.


Damn it. I be hungry. Feed me, woman!
-R

She's kinda cute for a naive inexperienced lil scrap of fur huh? I'm really tryin not to hate, I feel it doesn't go well with my complexion. Plus, that's really what everyone expects from a bitter ol' cat. And we know how much I love to give people what they expect.

Who is this feline lolita you may ask? Her name is Mrs. Lovett and she belongs to my roommate's former male compainion Henry. They're living a rural town in Colorado now with some a satanic canine. She gets her name from the tale of Sweeney Todd. Mrs. Lovett was the main character's partner in crime who help creatively dispose of his victims bodies by baking them into meat pies. Kinda deranged I know, but my roommate and the company she kept never really was one for the conservative.

You also may have overheard the mention of this male in many a conversation between the ladies back in the day. And by conversation I mean mostly my roommate shouting profanities and your mom patiently listening. As a human, he served me quite adequately. Always providing glasses with condensation for me to lick and a place to make biscuits when the knead came.


Too bad he wasn't as adequate to my roommate, but hey I guess she's letting by gones be by gones. I never quite knew what that term really means. I personally like to keep a nice firm hold on my grudges with both paws, claws out. You cross me once and I'll remember, hiss at your prescence and god help you if you try to touch me.

Don't think I didn't forget about the ordeal you've gone through. I'm gonna put my sympathies in a comment on your actual entry to see if it helps in the whole organization of the blog and stuff. That way we don't have to wait until each one of us posts an entry. We can just do it whenever we please and comment when need be. What do you think of that Ms. R?

Here's my New Year's Resolution:


Oh no, that didn't work. How about this.


Oh no, that didn't work either. Let's try again.


Goddammit! Mom said that she's probably paid of the vet's mortgage this month.

First Mavie got sick and did No.2s and No.3s all over the place. Fortunately for Dad, he had taken some extra holiday time off from work, so he got the honor of cleaning up after his Golden Boy. Vet Trip #1.

When Mavie came home, I smelled that nasty vet smell all over him and I couldn't help it! I HISSED and HISSED at him, which was kinda fun, so I threw in a few more hisses in just for good measure.

Lil' did I know that it would bite me in the ass. Ha. Ha. Pardon the weak pun.

Vet Trip #2: I get checked up, prodded and poked, some cold metal thing stuck up my bum. Verdict? My kidneys were fine (YAY!) but I had 2 teeth that were rotting.

What?

Didn't they just pull out two teeth LAST YEAR?! I'm not breeding jackrabbits in my mouth you know, what on earth am I going to have left?!


Vet Trip #3: Not happy. Mom ninja-ed me after 12 hours of no food, and so it began. I put up a mighty fight mind you, they may have taken my pearly yellows but I bit one of them real good. Just for the heck of it. I'm not usually very testy at the vet but, hey. Gotta throw some whippersnapper in there for good measure.

And then it was all a haze...

Despite having all these stupid expensive tests done for bloodwork blah blah vital organs reaction blah blah stuff, I ended up going home like a mindlessly drooling version of Nick Nolte's mug shot.


And I stayed that way for 24 hours.

The next morning, Dad was like, "Oh, she'll be okay, don't worry," but Mom was like, "Fuck this shit. My girl is a tough cookie, this ain't right."

Thank god for Mommies! For once her endless worrying did some good!

Turns out that one of the components of the anesthetic was still present in my system, which was also probably causing the drooling, and they had to inject me with an anti-sedative reversal thingamajig. So that was Vet Trip #4.

Damn that plate looked good. A bit small on the portion side, but hey...I'd still like to spend the holidays down by you one of these years. Can we decorate Mav like we would a Christmas tree?

One thing I do enjoy about being out here in Cali is being around more of my roomie's family. They really are darling creatures and yes, they even remembered me around the holidays.


I hear that humans have this silly notion of making resolutions for the new year.

Perhaps we should as well?

I know, I know...why should we as perfect examples of fabulous felines have to change anything about ourselves? And really, I don't think we should...but then again we aren't kittens anymore and I would like us to be around to live out the rest of the 8 lives we have to live.

Mitsy's Resolutions for 2010:

• Exercise - chase after those annoying things with wings that I see
• Medication - try not to eat around the pill my roommate thinks she cleverly sneaks into my food twice a day
  
• Creative outlet - Work on my art, memiors and yes Ms. R...this blog more often

Phew! Thinking about having to do all those things more often this year really kinda poops a gal out.

Happy New Year!

It's 1 January 2010 here on this side of the earth, even if the time stamp on the blog is still set to USA. The sun hasn't exploded, and no one is racing around on jetpacks yet, so don't get too excited.

I had a question about your last post though: Your bath took a whole hour?!

Shiet, I'd channel some face-clawing rage if I had an hour-long bath.

I missed the X'mas blog post because... well. I don't really have an excuse, just was too lazy.

We don't get Santa or any tinsel-adorned popcorn-strung candy-wrapped festivities in this agnostic home (these liberal, conspiracy-theorist parents are so boring sometimes, honestly).

But!

It's the time of year that we do a Swedish dinner to keep Dad's heritage somewhat alive, even if he is not particularly traditional.

I say that because this year we actually got to taste some of Mom's fine cookin' in lieu of the exciting dry grub we usually feast on! Mmm! How wonderful! What's on the menu today? Oh, more dry cardboard grub from a bag?

NO?

Dad fixed our dinner *yay!* with a little bit of grilled chicken, and bits of their X'mas feast: smoked salmon, Swedish meatballs, dry grub (what? Shit, that got snuck in there too) and even a little side salad and cheese. He even dished it on a real plate, what civility!


Personally I didn't take for the cheese and chlorophyll. Do I have 'hippie' written on my forehead? No. I ateth the meat. And it was joyous in my belly. Mavie, being the piggy he is, ate it all. Polished off my plate too. Veggie, cheese and all.


Then we went into a food coma.



Happy Holidays, and have a fab 2010 that DOES NOT SUCK like 2009. Smooches!
-R

If there's one thing I tolerated about my time of bath, it would be the awesome wonders it did for my girlish figure:

Reminiscent of High Fashion huh?

In the literary world, this would be called foreshadowing:


So, apparently we're living in the driest continent in the world, which makes it pretty darn hot. I should know, coz last year when the crazy bushfires broke out, we didn't have any air conditioning and it hit 46C/115F. Mav and I would just lie on the bathroom floor all day and stare blankly like zombies.

The old folks got really worried and tried to freeze moist towels but it was pretty lame. Mav and I are both cold weather cats for crying out loud - I have stupidly thick fur, and Mav. Well Mavie is a giant fluffball.

It sucked.

It's going to be 39C/102F today, and the parents were like well. Let's get them prepped for summer, and I thought what? You're going to put us out of the misery and roast us with some rosemary on a rotisserie?

No, worse.

I got ninja-ed into a BATH! AHHHHHH!!! NoooOOoooOoooOoo!

I found the following posted as a link on my roommate's FB wall:

Chococat on the other paw, can kiss my ass.

Mmm, Chicky McChickster, I don't know about your reigning street cred... These incriminating pics have been floating the Net lately. Might have to have a word with your PR department:



Don't worry. Here's a little something to cheer you up when all else fails. Brace thyself.

Okay, suffice is to say that my face does say it all when it comes to actually permitting my roommate to treat me like her lil barbie cat.

Here are some other instances in which I find myself not able to contain my facial disdain.


And my personal fav:
So yeah, I hope that somehow reclaims my street cat cred. I'm thinking of soon taking my cred out to the actual streets and showing you some of the City of Angels. Might have to sneak out when the roommate is out on her long weekend trips. I'll keep you posted.

Super fierce RAWR shot BTW! Damn, that made this puss shiver in her boots!

Oh my anchovy-pickled whiskers!

Please tell me the roomie put you up to it! Judging from your expression of dulled annoyance, I reckon that to be true. Although, you do take pleasure in such twisted joys, who knows.

I would have gathered you for much more kinky outfits... no wait, I take that back. You strike me more of the psychopath killer sort.

Or grumpy grandmother who'd sit on her rocker at the front porch with a shotgun and a flask of gin.

I would KILLETH anyone who'd put those on meeeee! RAWR!