Another cat making another stupid face.

This is by far, one of the dumbest faces I’ve ever caught him making. And even though he’s the one that’s been caught looking like a douche, I can’t help but feel like he’s mocking me for being in bed at 5 pm.



Programming Note.

So you have probably noticed that Ernest, Jaegar, and Isis have been somewhat MIA for the past few weeks. You may have thought to yourself that they had just stopped being a pain in the ass and I didn’t have any material to blog about. But alas, you are mistaken….cats are always dicks and they are always a pain in the ass to live with, but mine have been a pain of a different sort lately. For the past few weeks, Isis and Jaegar have been sick with various illnesses and I couldn’t bring myself to blog when I was constantly worried about them (stupid cats….making me worry). First Jaegar had like this thing with his eye, and there was junk running out of it and then it swelled shut; at the same time, Isis had some kind of ear infection. I took them both to the vet, where they both picked up some kind of awful cold. Jaegar had it first and then Isis caught it (and still has it); I took her back to the vet this week and she is on the mend….except for the constant sneezing and cat snot everywhere. But since it looks like they are going to make it, I can take up blogging about all the shit they do again. Like this, for example:

It looks sweet, but she literally sneezed into my mouth right after this. And then started purring. It feels good to be getting back to normal.

Weird. All these puzzle pieces are in my bed.

As we’ve told you before, cats absolutely hate when you’re doing something that isn’t petting them or feeding them. Browning’s favorite spot in the house happens to be wherever there is a puzzle being put together.

“Oh, cool. These humans think they’re putting a puzzle together.”


“According to my cat-ulations, this is right in the middle of the puzzle. I should lay here.”


“To show them I really don’t care about this stupid puzzle, I’ll start grooming myself.”


“Hmm. That’s weird. They’re still working on this stupid thing. Maybe I’ll flip over and they’ll rub my belly instead.”


“Are you assholes kidding me right now? This is the dumbest puzzle I’ve ever seen, and I’m a cat.”



Leave my cheez-its alone, dick.

I make no effort to work out or eat healthy. If you know me at all, chances are you know THAT about me. Well, that’s not true. In November I bought a gym membership, so we’ll call that progress.

The other night I was laying in bed, and alternating between eating cheez-its and Cheeto puffs, when this asshole right here started eyeing my dinner.


He started off stealing glances at them nonchalantly and then blatantly went in for the kill.


I’d like to believe that him stealing them is his little cute cat way of preventing me from becoming obese. But I know better than that.


Cats only pretend to not pay attention.

So, I have this bookcase in my apartment full of books (obvs) and random cute shit I find to collect dust.

I went to Target after work, so naturally I found more random cute shit to clutter my shelves with. My new vase/flower combination had been on its shelf for a total of five minutes when what to my wondering eyes should appear? This asshole trying to knock it off the shelf.


The next time you think they’re ignoring you and don’t give a shit about what you’re doing…think again. They’re watching you and waiting to strike.


Dick in a Box

So I spent a few days at my parents’ house over Christmas. This means four cats were in the house. And none of them get along.


This is one of my mom’s cats, Peanut. She’s the spawn of Browning. She found this nice little box to occupy. Apparently this box belonged to my dad and he was pretty pissed when he saw her in it. I forgot to mention he hates cats.

So he flies out of the recliner and runs over and gets her out of the box. This is how the conversation we had after the fact went:

Dad: Get that *expletive expletive* cat out of that box.

Me: Dad, who cares? It’s just sitting in there.

Dad: No, it’s probably crapping in there.

Me: Dad, why would a cat crap in a normal box?

Dad: Because it’s a cat. And a box.

Touché, sir.