It's All Photoshopped!

Even I, with my stellar marks in advanced feline aesthetics from the prestigious Schule für die intelligenten Katzen have yet to learn how to use Photoshop properly.

Gift Book At The Printers!

Perre left us for one long awful day. He got up at 5am, made espresso, and the last thing I heard was the mini starting up outside. He brought back footage to show he wasn't seeing any other cats while he was away, but he could have edited them out.

Nine-Step Poster Hidden In Dust Jacket!

Perre explains how the poster works. (He's the big guy who feeds us).

Videos Of Cooper On The Toilet! HA, HA!

Since we've been in recovery, our sponsor's been video taping our confessions and photographing the long hard road from litter box to bowl. In the back of my mind, I kind of knew the videos and pictures would eventually make it online. I don't feel as embarrassed as I expected - maybe it's that the first three are of Cooper?

Miss Precious Perfect

Congratulations to Miss Precious Perfect who's learned to kick the litter habit on SNL's Countdown. I didn't know Keith Olbermann had a soft side. (see 34 seconds to the end of his rant for this cutaway!)

Why does pop culture love cats on toilets?

Litter Box Was Here Yesterday

It's easy to confuse things when you're in a hurry. But how can you misplace a litterbox?

Los Angeles Thunderstorms

You don't hear thunder much in LA. That is a good thing. It is the way Chaos intended it.

All yesterday, the neighborhood smelled like barbecue and sounded like football. I'm a heavy lapsitter but last night with the flashing and thunder... Every few seconds: thunder, and every thunder: I made a break for it, and every time I made for the door, I got caught. That's a lot of breaks for it. And a lot of getting caughts. I'm glad independence day comes only once a year because you can only take so much freedom on the patio.

Other than that, nothing changed from the day before. I like my pace. It's comforting. But it gets tiring thinking of stuff to say. Napping is the next-best-thing to staying awake.

A House Divided - By Paint

The big guy's been painting the house all day. It's a wreck. I hate disorganization. The furniture is all piled up on the other side of the room. The floor is covered in tape and plastic. Guy's a lunatic. I've never seen white walls before. Ever since I lived here, the walls were red and orange and blue and one with polka-dots. I'll try to post some pictures if I can find them on this machine.

Typography, Typography Everywhere!

Cursed me. I work so hard on these wallpapers and they never turn out right. Wish to be-jeezes I could design something as good as the humans. All I end up with is jazz record-cover derivatives. Am I inspirationless? Is it the quality of air near the floor? Must find myself a muse.

Ask A Feline: Three's Companion

My second fan question!

J. Tripper writes: "I live with two women and things keep getting confused. One of them always mishears something and thinks I'm getting it on with the other one, and the irony is, I've been in a dry spell ever since I started working The Regal Beagle down the street. What I've always wanted was to sneakily put my arms around them both at the end of an amusing night and they stick around and snuggle instead of wiggling out of my grip. Any suggestions?"

Moxie answers: Sounds to me like you've got only one problem, Tripper. You spend too much time watching reruns. Have you tried talking to your roomates and asking for what you want?

Continued Longing From The Comfort Of Home

I wish I didn't enjoy the taste of Aveda products... an upset stomach is a thing to witness - not to endure.

I wish vacuum cleaners made a little less noise.

I wish I didn't suffer god's once-a-month curse for being a lapcat (...flea tonic).

Cocktails & Caffeine

I wish my tiny liver could tolerate cocktails and caffeine because, let's be honest... the lifestyle is appealing.

I think that the two-c's is the rudimentary mystery that separate pets from our humans.

Wistful Thinking

A hundred and two percent of my life is wishful thinking.

I wish I could stretch my wings and fly off the balcony, but alas, no wings, and so from the safety of distance the birds continue to taunt me.