You ever seen The Monolith Monsters
It's this old sci-fi movie about alien crystals that destroy everything they touch? And eventually they form this gigantic wall that spreads remorselessly across the landscape, crushing everything in its path?
That's what it's like in this apartment, except with cat ass.
Riley has the best expressions.
Friday Beast-Blogging on Thursday.
I didn't see that one coming.
When there's a lot of cat ass to be dealt with, sometimes it's good to get a head start.
Of course we'll be expecting more tomorrow, especially those of us up to our fetlocks in snow and ice.
"RILEY: That's what it's like in this apartment, except with cat ass."
Small wonder that I want to BE these cats in my next life, eh?
ALSO: HAPPY BIRFDAY TO REALIST!!!!!!
What better gift than a ton of ass? Even if it is bright-ginger CAT ASS!
MUCH LOVE TO ALL,
Is my fucking THREAD-KILLER CURSE BACK?!?!?!?
Why **ELSE** would such a loverly, funny-as-fuck, evermore-charming-every-time kitteh post's comments just DIE IN THE COMMENTS?!?!?!
At any rate, once again, belated, but still true, pour Le Realist's bon anniversaire:
HAPPY-HAPPY JOY-JOY HAPPY-HAPPY JOY-JOY, HAPPY-HAPPY JOY-JOY HAPPY-HAPPY JOY-JOY, HAPPY-HAPPY JOY-JOY HAPPY-HAPPY JOY-JOY, HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY-HAPPY-HAPPY-HAPPY JOY-JOY-JOOOYYYYY!!! TAH-DAH-DA-DINK-DINK, DINK-DINK!!!
And to all other February Birfday babies whose birfdays that I have failed to properly celebrate (I don't MEAN to be a dickweed, it just keeps COMING NATURALLY, to mix horrible metaphors...), including & especially Mrs. Die Frau Mentis on the 10th, TERRIBLE TED, SCOURGE OF THE 7 SEAS, ON THE 11TH, and of course, Realist (and my no-longer-favorite retired Monkee, the old yankee coot!) yesterday, the 13th.
SSSOOOOOOOOOO, WHO HAVE I MISSED?!?!?! I *KNOW* THAT THERE ARE OTHER AQUARIANS & PISCES OUT THERE WHO HAVE NOT ADDED THEMSELVES TO *MY* BIRFDAY LIST, SO DROP YER CROCS & GRAB YER SOCKS, LET THIS SENILE OLD BITCH *KNOW*!!!
Love, appreciation, affection, adoration, hugs (no leg-humping, Carl!!), smooches, sugar-high on non-NECCO-Inc. candies/treats, esp. the PEEPS that have just hit the shelves!!! --- I wish all of y'all dear darling birfday babies that and thirteen straight powerball wins, to boot!!!
LOVE LOVE LOVE Y'ALL ALL,
PLUS EXTRA SCRITCHES & SCRATCHES FOR ALL TEH CRITTERS, FELINE, CANINE, TURTLEISH/LIZARDI, ETC.!!!
I wish my ass looked that good.
I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the concept of a constantly-enlarging cat ass which gets so big it topples over and shatters into a zillion little pieces ... and each piece starts growing a new giant cat ass!
A whole planet smothered in cat ass! Aiiiieeeee!!!
I sympathize with Riley. We have a slightly similar problem here at the Marxist Home for Wayward Pets. Three of our four squeakers are laboring under the unshakeable misapprehension that whenever I try to kick back in the lounger I enjoy nothing so much as having one of them tread on my chest and shove kitty butt in my face. Especially when I'm using the laptop.
There is such a thing as being too sociable, you know.
As always, the breadth of Riley's classic film knowledge is awe-inspiring. The Monolith Monsters has long been one of my favorite semi-obscure 50s s.f. flicks, with its decidedly unusual "monster" and the talented and gorgeous Lola Albright as the female lead, the year before she began her stint as the iconic Edie the torch singer in Peter Gunn.
Yes. This. Exactly.
We originally bought the recliner so I could work without putting so much stress on my back, but I can scarcely even get the laptop open before the keyboard is upholstered in rich Corinthian cat ass, since any visit to that chair is immediately interpreted by Riley as an invitation, if not a proposition.
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