The counter is for sits.

I got home one day last week, and decided to just stand in my kitchen to see how Browning would react. He spent about 5 minutes sitting on the floor meowing at me. Then he decided to jump up on the counter directly across from me, as to be the same height as me.


In the photo above, he clearly knows that his little cat ass does not belong on the counter…but he’s going to sit there anyway.


“Hmm, maybe if I look over here, she’ll stop staring.”


“I’ll try direct eye contact with this bitch I guess.”


And, Browning’s ultimate way to say, “I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR COUNTER!” is with this stupid face.



*Insert blog content about how I get home from work and I’m tired and these asshole cats are still in bed.*

Browning has really outdone himself.



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.



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.”



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.


Road Tripping

Any time I have to leave Austin for more than two days means that I have to take these assholes with me, either to a friend’s house, my parents’ house…or wherever else I go.

No problem, right? Put a cat in a kennel and it’ll sleep, right? WRONG. My cats, at least, will throw up and crap 100% of the time if they’re in a kennel. I stand a better chance if I let them roam.

Quigley forgets he’s ever been in a car each time he’s back in a car. Seriously, this cat’s life is like 50 First Dates always. He walks around the car shrieking for about the first hour. Then settles into sleeping in the litter box for usually the remainder of the trip, until he has to crap. Which entails me reaching behind my seat, scooping the litter box, and throwing it out of my window. All while maintaining my 80 MPH and trying not to throw up all over myself. Sometimes he throws up. Sometimes he doesn’t. That’s a total crapshoot.

On our most recent road trip, this is how Quigley decided to sleep. Awkward?


Browning is usually pretty good. He falls asleep on my lap in the first ten minutes and generally stays that way until we get to wherever we’re going.

Not this trip. He decided to be a complete and total douchebag. He fell asleep on my lap for about an hour. Then decided to sprint to the backseat. This usually means one thing: he’s going to puke.

So, instead, I smell the aroma of crap about three minutes later. Then the rustling of a bag of gifts. Naturally, I’m thinking, “Wow. This asshole has managed to shit on Christmas quite literally this year.” Instead, he has crapped strategically on a beer coozie laying on my floor board, and he was only trying to be considerate and drag the bag of gifts over to cover it.

After this is done, he decides to hop back up on the back seat and start puking. If you’ve never heard a cat throw up, pray you never do because it’s quite honestly the worse sound I can think of right now. After this is done, I decide it’s time to pull off the road at a gas station and try to salvage my car.

As luck would have it, said gas station has no paper towels. So, being the MacGyver I am, used tissue paper out of a gift to clean up the unmentionables, and wipe the drool off his stupid face. The below picture is right before I cleaned him up, because I’d like to ruin any chance he might have for a career.



Cats don’t give a shit.

So my good friend Jamie was a kind person this summer and took in this stray kitten, to be named Olivia Betsey Cohen. Olive for short.

When she got Olive, she was tiny. I’ve seen bigger rats. None of us were really sure she was going to live…but oh boy did she.

Jamie relocated to LA at the end of the summer. So Olive has taken on a new Cali-mentality. She does what she pleases when she pleases and where she pleases.

Exhibit A:


That’s Olive. Peeing in the sink. PEEING IN THE SINK, people.


Cats have no respect for the dead.

Just like Suzanne, I read in my spare time. Browning, my oldest, absolutely hates when I do anything that doesn’t focus on feeding his fat ass.

I bought the Steve Jobs bio that just came out because who hasn’t? I set it down for three seconds on the couch before I start reading, and this is what that asshole does.


Really? You have to sit on the creator of Apple’s face? Douche.