Hellooo, sassy readers! It is I, Gatsby! I couldn't let my red headed step brother, Tigger, get all the fame of ghost writing! Mommy is passed out after drinking a bottle of wine (apparently there was a big sale at Empire Liquors cuz the girl stocked up), so I've taken over for the night. This will be short. I have some grooming and a nap to attend to. Did I mention how fluffy I am?
Anyhoo...the bitch left me this afternoon to have lunch with Kelley. I think she got tired of me climbing on top of her, and head butting her from the back of the couch. It was my way of trying to get her off her phat ass and find the hairballs I've hidden throughout. They went to the Olive Garden, and it was craaaazy busy! They waited for 30 minutes for a table, and when they walked to their table, Mommy Dearest had survivor's guilt. The antsy patrons watched them with hunger in their eyes. Mixed with jealousy. Hmmm...Survivor's guilt. Like when your co-worker gets the ax from the nation's 6th largest bank, and you didn't. Yeah, like that. But Mommy had a martini and dessert, and said something about "if you're going down, you might as well go down in flames". I love flames! Not only am I psuedo gay, but I've been set on fire multiple times. Stay tuned for my biography!!
Then Mommy picked up Crazy Marcy for a shopping trip to Tarjay Boutique. I loooove Marcy. She knows how to pet a sassy boy like me. Marcy likes to give Mommy material for her blogs. Last week, on their way to IHELL (IHOP, worst experience EVER), Marcy said, "A guy would be lucky to date me. I'm a cheap date. I chose cheap meals." Or something to that effect. She can correct me later. I think Marcy is with PMS Man tonight. He's another blog entirely.
When Mommy Dearest came home with kibble, wet food (loooooove the wet stuff!), and a new toy, she was shown our appreciation with two vomit patches on her rugs! Mommy swears when she finds kitty vomit. It's quite amusing. Tigger and I prefer the carpet to tile when we puke.
OK, readers...I'm bored with you. I hear the girl across the hall coming home. I need to go look pretty and strut my stuff in front of our door. It's what I do well. She can't see me, but I act sexy and rub against the door and throw myself on the floor and show my belly in case she has Xray vision and comes to rescue me anyway.
- ▼ March (10)