Showing posts with label kittens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kittens. Show all posts

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Hateful Kitty

Kathleen De Vere, of my favorite Commodore 64-based Canadian sketch comedy group "Loading Ready Run", has seen fit to draw an entry to her webcomic "Things My Cat Hates" based on a suggestion I sent her.

You should go check it out by clicking here.

Or here.

Or here, if you like to wait until the last minute, but that will be your last chance.

Of course, Kathleen, herself, had one of her tweets used in an Old Spice internet response ad last year. For those keeping track, this gives me an Old Spice Man Your Man Could Smell Like index of two.

(OK, I lied. This is really your last chance. For reals.)

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Statshot(s)

A look at the graphs that shape your world.

(Courtesy Graphjam)

  

  

  
Your ability to enjoy this movie depends entirely on your ability—once the big SF Plot Element is revealed—to accept that the movie isn't regular drama but is, in fact, SF Lite and raise your suspension of disbelief accordingly.


  
Seriously. I think video game graphics peaked with HL2. Everything since has just been unnecessary bling.


  
No, really. Am I? Because from a sheer spending viewpoint, apparently for me dead cats rate WAAAAAY above people in tsunami-prone and earthquake-stricken third-world nations.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

The Six-Toed Wonder

I don't know if you knew your real mother. Yet, despite your young age, you went forth, venturing out into the world to make your presence known.

One of your first acts was to walk into a bustling office building on a busy work morning, stand in the middle of the marbled lobby, and meow at the top of your little lungs. It was easy to translate: "Hi everyone!"

Of course, everyone stopped in what they were doing and turned to find you, a tiny, barely a few weeks old, Bombay kitten standing in the middle of a sea of giants, simply looking for company; perhaps a mother to take care of you.

But, no one in that business building thought of that. Or perhaps they weren't truly listening. They simply called a rescue group to come pick you up and care for you until a proper home could be found.

Off you were whisked to a foster home, where you first met a Pastel Calico kitten about the same age as you. You became instant friends, and dare I say, sisters.

Little did I know, shortly after my husband and I made the decision to get a cat, that our paths would cross, and thusly join.

I did not know of your existence until I found your adorable picture online through a search of various cat rescue groups. I'd found several potential kittens that we could adopt, but your little eyes spoke volumes through the picture I saw. It was at that moment that I knew you were the one.

We went to visit you at the foster home, and found you tumbling and playing with your little sister. You came up to us as if you'd known us all along, and bounced and played in our laps, climbed our legs, arms, and shoulders, rough-and-tumbling about. We even discovered you had six toes on your front paws and five toes on your back paws. You were definitely special. And while we had come in with the thought of simply adopting you, we left that day deciding we would adopt both you and your sister.

A few weeks later, when your foster parents had deemed you old enough, we came to take you both to your permanent home. You and your sister frolicked in your knew abode, getting into trouble at every turn. But we didn't mind. You were our new babies.

You, we named Isis, and your sister we named Bastet.


You grew up into a beautiful and graceful cat, along with your sister. You played, you loved, you were at home. And you knew you had finally found a mother, and father, that would care for you. You, and your sister, had become our first babies.

It was very hard when you suddenly got sick. We gave you the best care we could, took you to the best doctors, and gave you the best medicines. And while the doctors said you would not live long, you still gave us an extra eight months to love and purr.

The heartache in losing you will dull over time, but it will never fully fade. That is how deep a mark you left in our lives.

Thank you for your constant company.

Thank you for being a part of the kitty-greeting-committee with loud meows when we'd come home.

Thank you for your loud purrs, and always "leaving the motor running".

Thank you for the licks, sometimes rough, sometimes tickling.

Thank you for forcing your way onto our laps and keeping them warm on cold, and hot, days.

Thank you for greeting our guests so politely.

Thank you for acting silly when we needed a good laugh.

Thank you for being underfoot and nearly tripping us.

Thank you for chewing through the small wires attached to our headphones and phone-chargers, and leaving little chew marks in the thicker ones.

Thank you for eating my husband's and son's shoe laces.

Thank you for rough-housing with us, when your sister didn't feel like rough-housing with you.

Thank you for being there when we needed comfort.

Thank you for sleeping nestled in between my husband's legs, making it impossible for him to turn over.

Thank you for curling up on our pillows and keeping our heads warm.

Thank you for keeping my feet warm at night while I slept.

Thank you for standing guard over my son's toys as you watched him play.

Thank you for being so patient with my son, and letting him "pet" you.

Thank you for loving us, no matter what.

You gave us so many years of happiness, and for that we will be eternally grateful. We will never forget you, and I promise we will look after your sister.

Rest with the Angels, my first baby. I love you. ♥



In Loving Memory of Isis
9/23/2005 - 10/13/2010



~The Resident Murloc

Friday, June 12, 2009

Stackable Kitteh Storage.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Cat Yodeling.




I need to try this with Bastet. She's far easier to annoy.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Once while in a late-night fog, while I browsed the interblog,

Searching for some YouTube vid to make me laugh at funny cats,
And reading comics of stick men, or checking for new feeds again,
I bid "later" to the fellows in the Fark IRC chat.
"Caffeine is what is really needed nothing more and only that,
Just one cup and I'd be back"

My cat had curled up so neatly purring gently and so sweetly,
Sleeping peacefully and deeply, in my warm and comfy lap,
Suddenly she was awaken, and from her slumber she was shaken.
On her feet she landed gently, rudely woken from her nap.
Curling round she started licking as she does after each nap.
I left her, fetching my night cap.

As I dreamt about my steaming coffee, she then started scheming.
A twinkle in her eye, now gleaming. Mischief's what she had in mind.
Of this I knew simply nothing. I was too naively trusting,
To think my dear and sweet, soft kitty could ever be a mastermind.
"Code monkey needs his nightly coffee," was my thought. I was too blind,
To see the foe of all mankind.

Once out of sight, she went to work. She bore her fangs. A devilish smirk,
Graced her otherwise sweet and innocent, cute and cuddly feline face.
Moving gracefully, with power, to behind my mini-tower,
She eyed the wires beneath my desk deciding which one to deface.
She glanced around, the coast was clear, now was her chance, the perfect place,
To dine behind computer's case.

She licked her chops, the drool came thickly, then dove right in, moving quite quickly,
First a bite and then a nibble, from a sweet and succulent wire.
Oh, what heaven for this kitty, to be dining without pity,
On the chewy, yummy string that was the goal of her desire.
Greedily she did devour, severing the important wire,
Thinking not of the coming ire.

Returning from the kitchen then, to dive right in once again,
To my guild's planned and purposeful twenty-five man Warcraft raid,
The kitty sprinted lickety-split, from 'neath the desk as I did sit,
And I thought nothing of it, joining the group for our premade.
Only then did it strike me, as Azeroth was displayed,
Something's amiss. I was dismayed.

I turned the volume, no sound came, I checked the settings in the game.
No problem there but still I couldn't hear a single sound from fair Goldshire.
Reaching back, I checked connections, to see, upon closer inspection,
What was the seeming defection that caused the problem, oh so dire.
Feeling round I felt a problem with the all important wire.
It was severed, that important wire.

Turning round, I saw dear furry kitty, no more sweet and purry,
Watching me from just outside the archway to the bedroom door.
The look upon her face was all I needed. She turned down the hall,
Quickly running from the impending doom that she knew I bore.
"You evil, vile, demon kitty! You'd better run" and out I tore.
"Your days will not be many more!"

Around the house, a wild route, she ran with me in hot pursuit,
Of the villain, no longer cute, who had destroyed what I held dear.
A path of violence left in our wake as I attempted to overtake,
That Hun, the demolition cat whose death was very, very near.
"I'll catch you yet, you run in vain, you only tire yourself, I fear.
For your end is very near!"

She doubled back, my legs between, and continued to careen.
She sprinted for the bed, to hide, but alas, to no avail.
Diving I slid across the floor clearing ten feet or more,
And caught the tazmanian devil, draggin her out by her tail.
"I caught you, agent of destruction, in your escape, you surely FAIL!
In my vengeance, I will prevail."

I hoisted her to my eye level, to stare her in the eye, that devil,
Who had wrought so much desctruction on my poor computer wire.
"And now my justice shall be meted, and at last you shall be treated,
For your evil plans defeated. Now prepare for punishment most dire."
I raised my hand to strike her, and to show her my full ire.
But something made my wrath expire.

She looked at me, a gaze most touching, as if to my heart, she were clutching,
Trying to stay my rash judgment, with a look apologetic.
"Sorry" she seemed to pur nervously and fluffed her fur,
Looking as cute as ever she had, and evoking a mood sympathetic.
She meowed sorrowfully while purring and while acting quite pathetic.
"Forgive me?" She seemed apologetic.

"Oh, I can't be mad at you, dear Isis, you who chase computer mices,
And sit upon my lap and pur. Just promise me you'll chew no more."
In her eye I saw a twinkling, almost as if she were winking.
She fluffed her fur and rubbed me as I set her on the floor.
"You hear my, Isis? I'm quite serious. Being mad at you, I abhor."
She meowed as if to say "no more."

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

My Cats Are More Musically Inclined than Your Kid.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

F.U. News Tuesday Game

Exactly as much fun as herding cats, it's Chat Noir.



















If you get frustrated after playing it for a few minutes, I should let you know that there is a winning strategy which will enable you to trap the cat nearly every time.

Monday, November 19, 2007

What Blogging Was Invented For

And now, in traditional F.U. News fashion, we bury the informative, educational, and otherwise entertaining content with a photo dump (preferably of cat pictures), random link, or YouTube video.

Celebrating 4 years of virtual non-contribution.





3-Digit Interstates

Hey, at least I put the cat pictures in a slideshow.

Friday, November 09, 2007

Photo Caption Contest

Think of the best caption for this picture, and you could* win a prize!




















*As with all F.U. News contests, the winner gets squat.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Photodump.

We went to the Ren fair a month ago or so. I stupidly didn't bring my camera, so I couldn't take pictures. However, Rie got her hair done, and I took pictures when we got home.



They had a booth where ladies with sufficiently lengthy hair could have a stylist do it in a renaissance style.



In case you were wondering, it took 3 hours.



Completely unwittingly, Rie chose the hair style that was the hardest, only two of the stylists knew how to do it, and Rie had more hair than anyone that had come in so far that day.


But she looked very pretty. The next day at mass, the lady behind us asked her if she worked at Medieval Times.

In other news, Spring has Sprung / The grass is ris / I wonder where the bunnies is.



Oh, right there.


(12x Optical zoom FTW!)

We have no shortage of cottontail rabbits in our neighborhood. Lots of vegetation + no natural predators = bunnies!

So Rie felt the need to exercise her nesting instinct and I (foolishly) let her. A couple trips to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and $700 later, and her nest is much more, um, nested. I may have to eat nothing but Corn Flakes for a few years, but at least she's happy.



She got new bedsheets, for one.



Which even match the curtains. (Sort of.)



1 out of 2 kittens approve. The other pees on the bed whenever she gets a chance.

Speaking of kittens....



Bookshelf kitten is watching you and she does not approve.



im under ur table



im watching ur every move


Recipe for fun. Take one standard issue Isis. Put under standard issue filing box. Listen for purring. (For additional fun, wave string on a stick just outside of box.)



Recipe for even more fun. Take one standard issue Bastet. Put under standard issue filing box. Lean on box to keep her from escaping. (Although that won't keep her from trying to gnaw her way out.) If standard issue Bastet should escape, apply bactine liberally to wounds and get wife to retrieve Bastet from drapes.



A not uncommon sight. I swear we did not put her there. We sometimes see this when we come into our bedroom.



Hello, Kitty!

Sunday, May 06, 2007

Kittens!
Now with movement!

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

In the year 3000, they call it "Xmas".
And Santa is a deranged killer robot that delivers vengeance for all your wrongdoings.

PhotoDump.

'Twas the night before Christmas



And all through the house



(I am loving my new camera. This picture was a 1/4 second shutter speed and the one before was a full half second. No tripod, just me holding the camera and they still came out clear. Image stabilizing technology FTW! /bows to the Canon gods.)

Not a creature was stirring



Except for Babe the Pig, whom we mercilessly slaughtered and ate for dinner.



Yummy!



And this kitten which, apparently, Santa put under the Christmas tree.



Merry Christmas! Have a kitten!



(Again, 0.3 second shutter speed, no blurries.)



The stockings were hung by the chimney with care (except for the ones that Isis hated with a passion and would tear down the first chance she got)



In the hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there (or maybe Grom Hellscream and Tichondrius, when they finish disemboweling this angel).



Somethingsomethingblahblah Merry Xmas to all and to all a good night!

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