Thursday, March 26, 2015

Flashback Friday: Further Archaeological Activities

So the Human found this in her drawer of Things from Long Ago. Who knew her very own quiet little Mama actually wrote the letter that produced this response from her very own congressman? Well, actually, the Human *did* know that her sweet Mommy used a lot of HBO words about our 37th president.  Just for the record, Congressman Moss did not have me on his official stationery, but I think I improve it, don't you?

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

TBT: At the Movies

The Human came across this in an archaeological dig through a drawer she rarely visits. Evidently her mother, who would have been 18 at the time, deemed it worth saving and apparently the Human has been too l-a-z-y to clean out a random drawer full of junk treasures.

Postage was a penny, & the movie 30 cents for adults and a dime for kids. Of course, the average hourly wage was about 50 cents in 1936, so it took about two hours to earn enough to take the family to the show.

Come to think of it, maybe not very different from now after all.


Monday, March 23, 2015

And Bend and S t r e t c h and Twist and S t r e t c h . . .

Oh hello! It's how I keep my boyish figure, you know. Well, that and a regular diet of kitty grass so I can binge and purge when I have a little too much half&half.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Peeky Minder

Well, someone has to keep track of what's going on around here!

Saturday, March 21, 2015

Practicing My Footie Positions

Sweet Summer reminded us yesterday of the impawtance of paw-placement in achieving The Cute. Thus today, in the privacy* of my very own windowsill, I am working hard on perfecting my position in order to maximize my adorableness, thereby increasing my chances of extra brushies and more frequent playtimes.
* Sarcasm font

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Oh Spitty, Spitty!
Wherefore art thou Spitty?

What's Spitty? it is nor footie, nor paw,
Nor arm, nor tailio, nor any other part
Belonging to a ManCat. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call The Nip
By any other name would smell as divine;
So Spitty would, were he not Spitty call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title.