Heh. Heh. Heh. Verrrrrrrrrrrrr-y funny, now where's my Cat Chow? Don't you have anything better to occupy your time? Say, maybe going fishing so I can have some fresh fillets for supper? or, here's an idea, how about you hustle on over to the pet store and buy me one of those double decker, carpeted lounging doohickies? While you're at it, stop by that Home De-pot place and pick up some lumber so you can pretend to be a carpenter and make me a new house with indoor plumbing? Uh, huh. You thought I didn't notice those tools you've been accumulating, while your 0bviously underappreciated feline goes unattended for minutes at a time?
Listen up, all you humans who come to read this misguided woman's lame attempts at making funnies, the Mooch has put her paw down. There will be no more internet access for this woman until this furline friend is sufficiently convinced of this woman's sincerity when she says, "But, Moochie, you know I love you! I'm just busy trying to figure out what to do with all this sawdust." Yeah, right. Then, it'll be time to go pick up those rugrats, instead of petting me. After that, she'll fix them some warm snacks, while I sit forlornly gnawing on cold Cat Chow. Oh, and don't even get me started on the spaghetti suppers and bacon 'n egg breakfasts for that one they lovingly call "The Big Kitty." Breadwinner, schmeadwinner. . . what's important? Greeting the hubby when he gets home, or petting the cat?
I rest my case. All those in favor of anchovies on silver platters and cream in china cups, raise your right paw and repeat after me:
Meow, me-meyoooooow, m, myow, myow, MEOW!