Katie Couric

What the HELL? Why was I not invited to Katie Couric's farewell show? DAMMIT I'm her most favorite bestest fan. Screw that little girl! I am a blind cat for christ's sake! How adorable would it be for Katie Couric to be holding me in front of those cameras? DON'T ANSWER THAT! It's a freakin' rhetorical question! Just because I become terrified when I go outside and would likely pee if not poo on her in front of a bazillion people DOES NOT MEAN IT WOULD NOT BE A PRECIOUS MOMENT!

Are we at war with Mexico yet?

As a cat from a foreign country (Utah) and human parents from the socialist countries of Vermont and Massachusetts, I am concerned about the approach el presidente is taking against immigrants. We are at war with the concept of terrorism (my furry mind still hasn't wrapped my head around that one), Iraq, kinda sorta Afghanistan, and half threatening Iran. And now he is after Mexico?

DAMN! I'm all over the Posse Comitatus thing. Let's go after Canada and Alaska! Wait...no. YEEEHAAA!!!!!!!!!! Sign me up!

As you can see (I can't dammit), I am a very confused kitty...

They are at it AGAIN!

DAMN! I thought I was safe. The NSA or National Security Folks or Big Brother (you pick) are TRACKING MY PHONE CONVERSATIONS! Lately I have put Biggy D in charge of my phone campaign to get The Church of Mr. Stin followers to contribute chicken. Now it means Big Brother will know who the followers of my cult are . Whoops! I meant church. Plus, for some reason, many of my followers are in Communist Vermont so of course I'm on their radar. That means they will be especially interested in me. It's not like I am trying to overthrow the federal government. I just plan on taking over some local churches to spread my message of chicken and naps and TURN OFF THOSE DAMN BELLS. A cat can't get a nap around here without being woken up by church bells tolling versions of Britney Spears songs.

So my friends, I am disconnecting my phone, halting my phone campaign, and, again, hiding under the covers so Big Brother can't git me.

Finnegan's Great Freakin' Adventure

Finnegan thought it would be fun to go on a little solo adventure this morning. Human mummy and daddy did a lot of yard work this weekend and daddy must have not fully locked the gate in the back. Anyway, when mummy went out to get Finny, he was gone and no where to be found. Mummy called and called and he didn't come. Human mum and dad took separate cars and when mum asked some people if they had seen him, they said yes and directed her to him. A woman was just grabbing him when human mummy pulled up.

Here's the deal. Blah blah blah, we are all glad he is back safe and sound. As the Great and Mighty Cat, Sir Stins A Lot, I wonder: why did he only go a couple blocks away from home? Why didn't he head down to the local tavern and grab himself some Guinesses? He is Irish after all. Plus, there is always some drunk down there at 8am on a monday morning. No, the goofball was trotting along some random street block doing what...sniffing the freakin' daisies? Taking a humungous poo on someone else's yard? That would be a nice gift to come home to. Dogs are so damn weird, man! If I somehow regained my sight, I would head straight to the meat market and get myself some whole raw chickens to devour. Then I would convert the local catholic church into the church of mr. stin and turn off those GOD DAMN BELLS THAT GO OFF ALL FREAKIN' SUNDAY!!!! Then I could have my sermons in public and my followers would be able to make offerings of juicy meat all day long. AND they could witness the glory that is Mr. Stin...Mehmow!

Mr. Stin's Anthem

As a cat, my only affiliation to some sort of nationality is to the country of Feed Me More Chicken. Therefore, I don't truly understand the hoopla over singing the anthem in whatever other language one speaks. It seems Bushman does not approve for some reason but I bet you five cans of tuna he doesn't even know the English words, let alone how to pronounce them.
I have decided to make my own anthem for the Church of Mr. Stin:

Oh say I can't see, by my furry grey bum,
I like to eat chicken and tuna, and chase my bumble bee toy,
Because it is so freakin' fun.
Who has orange stripes and polydactyl paws?
It's Donald the-ah psy-cho-tic cat;
Oh Donald, you are my bicurious frie-end;
Meh mow mow, MEH MOW MOW MOW!
I am the leader of the Church of Mr. Stin
So-oh give me some chicky treats.

Okay, so I can't write lyrics to save my life but what the hell, I need my own damn version too.