Why LOL CATS are so LOL.
ZOMG SO ADORABLE!!!
Okay now tell me that did NOT make you ROTFL/LMAO/ZOMGLOL.
I first heard about the I can has cheezburger site from Gogo (Hi Gogs!), then I think Lance or Jaybo showed it to me.
The photos really make me laugh. Seriously. Its like you can’t help but gush and just laugh your arse off looking at them. So freakin’ adorable. I wanna make something like that too!
CRINKLES! Come here!!!!
Speaking of CATS, because today is Cat day, and my Mom called me at the office and she was bawling about how much she misses Jason ‘cos I sent her an e-mail with all these funny photos of cats and one looked just like our baby boy. I had to be strong for her so I just kept quiet but deep down I knew how much I missed him, and with the number of orbs I’ve been seeing in my camwhore pics lately, I figured he hasn’t really left us after all.
So yeah. Where was I? Oh. Speaking of Cats. My cakey, Camille Agcaoili, shared me this poem by one of her favorite authors, Charles Bukowski.
THE HISTORY OF ONE TOUGH MOTHERFUCKER
he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailless cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed
grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway
and ran him over
I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much
chance…give him these pills…his backbone
is crushed, but is was crushed before and somehow
mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at
these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets
are still there…also, he once had a tail, somebody
cut it off…"
I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the
hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom
floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he
wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it
and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any-
where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to
him and gently touched him and he looked back at
me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went
by he made his first move
dragging himself forward by his front legs
(the rear ones wouldn't work)
he made it to the litter bo
crawled over and in,
it was like the trumpet of possible victory
blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I
related to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that
bad but bad enough
one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and
just looked at me.
"you can make it," I said to him.
he kept trying, getting up falling down, finally
he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the
rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested,
then got up.
you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed
almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in
his eyes never left…
and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about
life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed,
shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look
but they don't understand, they say something like,"you
say you've been influenced by Celine?"
"no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by
things like this, by this, by this!"
I shake the cat, hold him up in
the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows…
it's then that the interviews end
although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures
later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo-
he too knows it's bullshit but that somehow it all helps.
(*text copied from Old Poetry)
Steeg diba? I love it, it made me all teary-eyed!
I don't have anything "of the day" now.
And I promise to reply to comments ASAP!
I appreciate it, thanks a lot.
I haven't been myself lately to tell you the truth.
There goes. Back to zero.