Hey to you out there. Apparently, my human has some things to take care of in her life (yawn, yawn, and double yawn), so I will be taking a break from dictating my immortal words of wisdom for a little while. I hope you have enjoyed the pearls I have dispensed (you can take 'pearls' to mean whatever you will), and I will be back. Don't worry. There is much more I have to say.
Hey lady! I know that lately you have been a bit disappointed by how much tv I have been watching, but in my defense, I'M BORED. Also, there are some intriguing and frankly enlightening and educational programs out there. What's that? Name a few? With pleasure.
Hey lady! You may think of me as your "pet cat", but I'm a fabulous single tabby, and I'm looking for love. I'm also looking for a way out of this dump. Since you have opposable thumbs and I don’t, I’m going to need you to get your big butt off the couch and place this ad for me in the local paper.
The ad should read:
I am a beautiful, single tabby with green eyes and long furs, looking to escape the mundane and boring existence that is my life. I enjoy hunting, fishing, catnaps, wine tasting, backyard barbecues, hot tubbing, culinary delights, bird watching, arts and crafts, pillows, and wicker furniture, just to name a few.
Ethnicity: Norwegian Forest Cat mixed with Feline Goddess
Height: 12 inches
Weight: None of your business! Did my human tell you to ask me that question?
Smoking: I'd love to, but my human doesn't think it's "healthy". Pffftttt.
Has Kids: No, but I just LOOOVVVE kittens! Delicious! Er, I mean, adorable!
Age: Again, none of your beeswax. Speaking of which, beeswax is delicious!
Body Type: Pear. I'm large-boned- you wanna make something of it?
Eye Color: You'll never know. I prefer to wear Jackie-O sunglasses.
Alcohol: Hey, you'd drink too if you lived in this dump.
Occupation: Blogger
Income Level: I receive payment in the form of cans of Fancy Feast. Can you believe that?!?
Martial Status: If I were anything other than single, would I be placing this ad?
Living Situation: Intolerable
Languages: Why, English, of course!
Astrological sign: Leo
Political Views: I give up. I mean, Socks got into The White House, and what did he do with his newfound power? Squandered it sleeping the day away and placing special orders with the White House Chef! Not that I would have done any differently, mind you.
Sense of humor: Not available
Hello, lady. I am Madame Zelda. I am a teller of fortunes, seer of the future, mistress of mysticism. What's that? I look like Great Grandma Formaldehyde, aka your cat, Ariel? Nonsense! Utter foolishness! I have been hired by a person or persons, to remain otherwise unidentified, to tell your future. Are you ready? Here goes:
I am looking into my crystal ball. No, that’s not just a very large marble- ridiculous! It's very cloudy....very…smelly....did you pass gas? Oh, never mind. Maybe that was me. Ah! Now I see you at a store. You are surrounded by cylinders of tin....I see the words "Fancy Feast"....You are buying every single one, in various delicious flavors! Now you are purchasing dozens of rotisserie chickens at the deli! -By the way, make sure you only buy barbecue flavor, unless you want your toes to be mysteriously gnawed off in the middle of the night. Now you are back at home. I see you opening all the cans and serving them on fine china. There are chicken legs flying everywhere! It’s an all-out buffet, just for your cats Ariel and Okie! You do have some intelligence and couth after all! Why, this is marvelous! Wait, wait…now I see Ariel, her adorable little belly all distended and bloated, sprawled out in the middle of a large fluffy bed…she has the ‘chicken burps’…I see you, curled up on the floor at the foot of the bed…Ah! I just love it when the future looks bright.
The Mind of the Cat: A Quiz
In continuation of my last post, I certainly hope you learned something about the mind of the cat. There is, of course, much, much more to know, as the cat’s mind is a deep well of knowledge and awesomeness. Today we are going to have a brief quiz to test your teeny human brain and see how much you have retained.
Correct answer: B. If you answered A or C, may your dreams be haunted by cats with Irritable Bowel Syndrome.
Correct answer: If you picked A, slap yourself upside the head. Again! Now, serve your cat a nice big bowl of deep-fried squirrel abdomens.
Correct answer: All of the above (Duh)
Correct answer: I don’t think this one really needs any clarification, now does it?
Ok, time to score yourself. Four correct answers: Give yourself a cookie. You are somewhat on your way to understanding the awesome being that is a cat. Three correct answers: Did you even read my last post? Two correct answers: Call me later. I’ve got a special present I made just for you. One correct answer: Pathetic! May your cat use your leg as a scratching post.
After having lived with a human for even the brief period of time that I have, it has become painfully obvious to me that none of you understand the mind of the cat at all. Therefore, I have put together this handy-dandy reference guide of definitions, which should help you immensely. Read it and weep.
Ariel's Quick Reference Guide to Understanding Your Cat
Human = Servant; he/she who opens cans, cleans poo, and moves their big butt over so I can have the choice spot on the bed.
Food = Anything that moves, breathes, or tastes delicious.
Litterbox = Not a specific location…more of a destination; anything that looks and/or feels comfortable; anything that should be destroyed for its own good (i.e. Grandma Smith’s handmade pea green blanket from 1979).
Cat Fancy = Required reading for all humans who are allowed to live with a cat. Attention Humans: take good notes. There will be a quiz later.
Cat beds = Huge waste of money. Your bed is so much more comfortable.
Dry cat food = Proof that humans do not understand cats in the faintest.
Your heart continuing to beat = You’re welcome.
Newspapers, magazines, important mail = Great for shredding and keeping our teeth sharp
Wildlife = Backyard smorgasbord = Delicious!
Hey lady! This is Ariel. I’m so incredibly happy you had a wonderful time at that wedding yesterday. Really. I was thrilled to be left here in 2000 degree+ heat with only three meager bowls of food and water to sustain me. How could you possibly think that could tide me over for an evening? Do you not know me at all?
Anyhoo. Contemplating the fantastic time you must have been having in cool air-conditioned comfort, made me fondly reminisce about my cousin Boomer, perhaps the only member of my family to successfully infiltrate a wedding. I decided to ring him up to see if he could give the rest of us any pointers on his secrets of success.
Ariel: Hello Boomer! Can you hear me?
Boomer: (static crackling in the background) Hello Ariel. I’ll have to make this brief. I’ve been put under house arrest in the basement and I’m not supposed to use the phone. It’s wedding season, after all, and my humans are afraid of a repeat of last year.
Ariel: Tell us, what happened?
Boomer: Well, it all started when my humans decided to get married. Mr. asked me if I wanted to be a “cuddly-wuddly-little-furry-groomsman just like daddy”. How was I to know he was kidding?
Ariel: What did you do?
Boomer: Well, I found a top hat and bowtie, of course. Then I hitchhiked to the reception underneath one of the bridemaids’ dresses. As soon as I got there, I immediately began to make myself useful by helping with the music. Some of the records were really bad, so I just put two large scratches in the shape of an “X” across them. I mean, who wants to do the “Chicken Dance”? Chickens are good for one thing, and it's not dancing.
Ariel: Amen to that. Then what?
Boomer: Well, when the guy came back who apparently owned those horrendous records, he started spitting and sputtering and got all red in the face, and looked like he might explode, so I decided that would be an ideal time for me to go take a refreshing dip in the chocolate fountain. My mistake; there is nothing refreshing about having your whiskers singed off by molten hot chocolate. But that’s ok, I immediately felt better after rinsing off in the adjacent champagne fountain.
Ariel: Wow! That sounds delicious.
Boomer: Well, it was alright. The rest of the food left a little to be desired. I went into the kitchen to do some taste testing, and apparently, all Chicken Kiev is stuffed with parsley? I mean, I did not know that! And believe me, I tried every single one of them, and they were all the same!
Ariel: Parsley? I did not know that either…I think I just threw up a little in my mouth…blech!
Boomer: Anyways, some guy in a big white hat came after me with a broomstick, so I hightailed it out of there! All that indulging had left me with a sudden urge to relieve myself, so I began searching out an appropriate spot to do my business. There was a small table over in the corner that had some boxes on it with colored paper wrapped around them, and bows (which I love to eat, but I was a little full at that moment), and there was this one white box with a small slit in the top that was empty. I don’t know who could have aimed through that little slit, so I took the top off and went to town. I am a very polite and well-mannered cat, of course, so I put the lid back on when I was done. Then I got distracted by some ribbon on the floor. And wouldn’t you know, some ladies came over and put a flat white envelope through the slit in the box. I was a little concerned I had committed a faux pas, so I felt better when they said they were leaving their present in the box. Why, that’s what I had just done! So, you see, it all worked out great!
Ariel: That sounds like a great present. That’s what I always give on birthdays and at Christmas. So then what?
Hey lady! I understand that perhaps some people out there think all I like to do is eat and kill things. Well, that's just not true. I have many hobbies and interests besides making flowcharts pairing baby birds with fine white wines. Like what? Well, for one, I like to sleep. I also enjoy a good tussle with a chunk of clumping cat litter. And did I mention that I like to sleep? That way I only have to potentially interact with you a maximum of 4 hours a day. I also enjoy a bit of high fashion. As you can see from the example above, I maintain quite an extensive collection of wigs. Why, just last week I wore this wig for a leisurely stroll about the neighborhood, and no less than three tomcats, a German Shepherd, and one very saucy kitten whistled at me. I think I have a quite promising career ahead of me as a top model. Paris, Milan, Fashion Week, signing autographs all night, my name in lights....I can see it all now! What's that? Models don't eat, and they definitely do not eat chipmunk stew in bordelaise sauce? Hmmm. Modeling is stupid.
Mrs. Fizzy's 7-layer bug dip
If you're always looking for a good recipe like I am, try this delicious 7-layer bug dip. You can make it with ingredients you already have hanging around the house!
1 can seafood pate
35 fireflies, dewinged and lightly breaded
14 large black ants (the plump, juicy kind)
2 dozen horseflies, well mashed
45 earwig heads, toasted
8 fleas
23 black beatles, gently sautéed in a pound of butter
A pawful of ladybugs (for color)
2 tomatoes
Catnip, to taste
Open can of seafood pate (ok, ok, grudgingly ask pesky human to open can of seafood pate); spread generously in large baking dish. Lick at will. Layer fireflies, ants, horseflies, and earwig heads in a circular motion until the pate is covered. Eat the fleas. Toss black beatles into the baking dish evenly. Dot the top with ladybugs, making a smiley face pattern with their corpses. Throw tomatoes in trash can. Cover dish with heaping spoonfuls of catnip, then bake for 1 minute at 350 degrees. Unlock jaw; enjoy.
Hey lady! I saw that diet 'food' -and I use that term loosely- you are trying to pawn off on me. I'm not overweight! I just have big fur. Ok, well maybe I have indulged just a tad too much as of late. But nature offers so many tasty delicacies, how can I resist? I tried to cut back, really I did. 
Welcome to my humble abode! Come in, come in. Please, make yourself comfortable and have a seat right over here in this large 50 quart pot...er, hot tub. Yes, it's a hot tub! I thought perhaps a little R & R before dinner. You can stew over your day at work whilst I prepare the woodchuck au gratin. Please, have a drink. What's that? It tastes funny? It's just a little lemon juice and olive oil marina...uh, margarita. Ole'? While you're in there, could you just tuck these potatoes and carrots around you? Perfect, thanks. Let me know if they start getting mealy, would you? Now, if you could just pop this thermometer in your mouth...What? Oh, I'm just concerned about your health. You look a little peaked. Just wanted to make sure you're not running...a fever. Wonderful! Everything is cooking right along, and dinner will be served shortly. So glad you could make it.
Top 10 Reasons It’s Great To Be Me
10. I poop, you pick it up
9. That needlework pillow Aunt Melba gave you as a wedding gift? Toast. And believe me, I’m doing you a favor.
8. It’s called sleeping. 18 hours a day.
7. I never have to eat my vegetables. They might kill me.
6. I don’t have to be nice, because I’m cute.
5. I poop, you pick it up.
4. By the good fortune of my own superior intelligence and craftiness, I have an endless supply of supplemental food sources, including, but not limited to, birds’ nests, woodchuck dens, squirrels’ lairs, and beehives. As if that dog food you call dinner could sustain me (sniff)
3. I will live to be 80 years old (in cat years- is there really any other kind?) and still look like I’m two. What’s your excuse?
2. I can stand on your face while you’re sleeping, and you’re none the wiser.
i-ro-ny [ahy-ruh-nee, ahy-er-]
–noun, plural -nies.
1. “Incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs.”
The Dictionary of Ariel Definition
1. “Yes, I allowed you to put this ridiculous prop on my head and take a picture. Ironically, however, that doesn't mean I won't scratch your face off in the middle of the night.”
Check me out on the LOLSpot!
Today, I would like to introduce to you all my brother, Fleabag. Here we are in a childhood photo. Fleabag was definitely a punk back in the day. Well, here, I’m going to let him tell you all about himself. Don’t go thinking, “Oh he’s so interesting”, now. Remember, this is MY blog, and I’m the star of the show.
Ok, Fleabag, take it away.
I’ve been on this earth for a long time, and if there's one thing I know, it's that today’s youth doesn’t know anything about survival in the world of humans. Why, back in my day, those pesky bipeds wouldn’t come near my claws, much less think about removing them, if they knew what was good for them. I scratched off many a face in my day. And neutering! Modern mumbo jumbo superstitious nonsense. Back in my day, we got to keep the body parts we were born with. Oh, we may have given birth 45 times, but it built character! What are today’s youth doing with their “freedom from reproduction”? Squandering it, that’s what! Yes, they have all sorts of time on their paws for eating and sleeping and destroying curtains and making craft projects! It’s blasphemous, I say! In my infinite wisdom, I decided to put together some words of advice for the next feline generation. Listen up, whippersnappers!
Well kids, that’s all I have time for today. Stay tuned, and if I’m feeling nice, I might bestow some more of my immortal wisdom on you.
Okie: Hey Ariel, everybody’s talking about the unemployment rate here in Michigan. I thought maybe we should practice our interviewing skills in case we have to look for work.
Ariel: Work? I already have enough work bathing, napping, and putting up with these numbskulls we live with.
O: Ok, ok, I know it’s a long shot. But I thought maybe we should practice answering some questions anyways, just in case.
A: (sigh) Well, I suppose I don’t have anything else to do right now, at least until someone gets here and turns on Soapnet.
O: Ok, first question. What are your strengths?
A: A keen wit, wily intelligence, and ravishing beauty.
O: Uh…yeah. What are your weaknesses?
A: Definitely chipmunk tails, oysters on the half shell, and the Wine of the Month club on QVC.
O: Define cooperation.
A: That’s when you stand on my shoulders and we take down a family of cardinals with no weapons but our own cunning.
O: What problems do you have getting along with others?
A: None, as long as they do my will.
O: Are you willing to take calculated risks when necessary?
A: Absolutely. One time I calculated that a mother bunny stayed away from its nest for 92 minutes every morning starting at 7:32 a.m. If I could consume one baby bunny per 14 minutes, and there were 7 bunnies in the nest, why, I could almost finish the whole nest by the time she got back. And the risk was very minimal!
O: I don't think this is going very well...
Roses are red, violets are blue
As I was doing my daily perusal of the world wide web over the shoulder of this human I allow to live with me, I came across this slightly interesting, highly obvious statement: "A study finds that cats employ a special trick that gets their owners to do their bidding." It's called Pretending That We Like You Until You Open The Can Of Food. Is this really news? Yawn.
Okie: Ariel, I was rooting through that box in the corner looking for something to cough up a furball on, when I came across this picture. Who is it?
Ariel: Allow me to introduce my great grandmother, Formaldehyde.
O: Formaldehyde? What’s a Formaldehyde?
A: Formaldehyde was the only child of Otis and Winky Fluffenheiser of Akron, OH. She ran away at age 2 to perform in a traveling circus. She was a famous cabaret dancer, with admirers from all across the world.
O: Why does this other picture show her sitting on a bale of hay and eating flies?
A: Ok, ok, perhaps I exaggerated a bit. She used to put this handkerchief on her head and tell fortunes. She even predicted my birth and what a gift I would be to the human race.
O: That seems a little far-fetched to me.
A: Well, maybe I’m stretching just a wee bit.
O: You know, she looks a lot like you.
A: Me? That’s utterly and completely ridiculous! Absurd!
O: That is you! Oh my. My oh my. How could you let someone put you in that silly outfit and then take your picture? Ha ha ha ha ha!
A: How humiliating...
Hey you! It’s lunch time. I want a BLT on wheat, minus the L, the T, and the wheat. And bring me a side of bacon while you’re at it.
Okie: Should we take him out?
Hey you! Yes, you. Now that I have your attention, I am pleased to inform you that I have taken your left fuzzy pink slipper hostage. It will be returned to you in itty bitty shards by way of my litterbox unless you submit to my list of demands:
Today I am having a picnic lunch. I just happened upon this delicious looking lunch box (pictured above); it has white meat and dark meat, my favorite! I'll just add a side order of chipmunk tails, a red and white checkered cloth, and a nice dry Chablis, and I'll be on my way. What's that? Those are rescue kittens and are not for eating? I'm shocked you would think I would do something like that! That's absolutely (burp) ridiculous!
I am not interested in watching another mundane episode of What Not to Wear. I know what not to wear, and I also know what to wear....to a club. Which is where we should be. Now.
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