Moron the cat...

I've always loved cats.
I think it's genetic.
My grandparents always had a million cats and a visit to their house was always yielded lots of cat lovin'.

It has always been my opinion that if you ever hear someone talking about how they have extra kittens or cats to get rid of, it is your obligation to take at least one of them home as a pet. One can never have too many cats around.
My opinions are sound, reasonable and rational right?
No one alive can dispute my logic over this opinion or anything else, ever.

So... the opportunity for me to take home someone's extra cat came up a few years ago and we've had this awesome black and white cat ever since.
When she was a kitten and brand new to our family we all came up with a list of possible names for her.
We then decided to give her all of the names at once.
Her full name is officially 'Little miss Cleopatra Penelope Banana Foam Taco Bucket Mew Mew Mew'.
We call her Titters.

This is her posing candidly:

Here she is again wearing a hat and sunglasses because we're mean like that...

and here's a picture of me balancing eggs so they stand up straight.

I know it's completely off topic but it's something worth showing off.

Only I can do it.

Before I get back on topic here's a close up:

Cool eh?
Let's see you try it.

So anyway....

Recently the same woman who blessed us with the first cat came by the shop where I work and announced that her daughter has brought home yet another kitten and she needs to be rid of it.

Obviously that means it's my duty to myself and my family to volunteer to go and retrieve this unwanted kitten and bring her home.

This is a picture of the upper portion of the wall that the previous owners of our house built which separates the two rooms in our basement:

Notice that for some reason the person who built the wall left a little hole?
No big deal right? it's just a wall with a shelf and a hole.

Anyway, we brought this new cat home and sort of expected a short period of turmoil while the cats got used to each other.

The large cat instantly took to chasing the small cat around and beating her up whenever she could.

Here's a photo of our new cat finding respite inside the aforementioned hole in the wall:

She uses the shelf to get up there and struts across the ceiling and lives between the joists.

Fair enough.

She doesn't get beat up when she's in there and eventually she'll come down right?

I've started calling her the intermittent ceiling cat.

Julie calls her Skitters.

From time to time Skitters graces us with her presence and resurfaces on ground level and we all share cat lovin' and everyone is happy.

Everyone except for Titters.

Titters always takes these opportunities to pounce on Skitters and beat her up good and proper.

She won't stop beating her up until one of two things happens.

She'll stop if we spray her with a water bottle or she'll stop if Skitters has a crap in the midst of their scrap and together they smear cat poop everywhere.

Remember, this is what causes Spencer to puke in the sink all over the dirty dishes.

I hate cats.

I've proposed to the family that we need to re-evaluate our ownership of the intermittent ceiling cat and thereby reduce the volume of shit and vomit I have to clean up in a day.

The result of my proposal was inconsolable tears.

I'm thinking tears are easier to clean up than stinky, smeary, intermittent cat shit.

Aren't they?

Sigh... I finally got the car moved

The lock on my shed has 'Weiserlock' written above the keyhole.
This eliminates confusion when it comes time to unlock it because the key is labeled 'Weiser'.

This is a picture of the lock and both 'Weiser' keys on my key ring.







So, evidently, the lock wasn't even frozen the other day.
I was just too dumb enough at that ungodly hour to use the right key.

Anyway, tonight I was able to get into the shed and locate the jumper cables.
Is it some divine joke that they were on the same shelf as the lock de-icer which, as it turns out, would have only frustrated me more anyway?
I feel like breaking that window now just so I can be in on the joke on my own terms.

I got the car moved.

Here's a picture of what it did to the lawn when I moved it.









Kia Rios suck.

Montreal vs London

This is a picture of my other car parked in Montreal.

I drove here yesterday with Mike.

Mike is my friend who works at city hall in London. He is helping me dispute the parking ticket I received yesterday for being a hillbilly and parking my red car on the lawn.

We came to Montreal to pick up Marc and Amy and their cat. We are heading back to London today.

This is a picture of the parking ticket i got in Montreal for leaving the car unattended for one second so i could find someone who could help me decipher one of these signs you see here.

I have to say... the tickets you get in Montreal are far more impressive. This ticket is three pages long, written in two languages, costs me $52 instead of the measly $50 you get charged in London. This one  is also printed on a far superiour stock of paper.

London sucks.

Today is a great day!

Every morning I get to wake up early to drive Wiffy to work.
I truly don't mind getting up extra early these days because it's some of the only time we really get to see each other.
On this particular morning Wiffy had lots of extra work to do so we were up before 5:00am and on the road pretty much immediately after 5.

This is a picture of my other car:

and this is a picture of the parking ticket I found on it's windshield this morning after I had dropped Wiffy off:

Evidently, although two of it's wheels are on the driveway, I get to pay the city $50 because the other two wheels are on the lawn.

Technically they are on paving stones on the lawn but I guess paving stones don't constitute a proper driveway.

I have to work at the restaurant tonight and I'm off to Montreal tomorrow morning so, rather than going back to sleep for a bit like I usually do, I thought it would be a much better use of my early morning 'me time' to try to move the car so that it's fully on the driveway in order to avoid further opportunities to give the city even more money in the near future.

Of course, since it has sat there unused since October, my attempt to get the Goddamned car started yielded nothing in the way of dashboard lights or engine cranks or anything useful at all.

The battery is clearly dead.

Easy enough to deal with right?

I have another car with a working battery and I have jumper cables in the shed.

This is a picture of my keys sticking out of the frozen lock which prevents me from getting into the shed:

Ask me how badly I want to smash that fucking window.

You know how people always give you those nifty lock de-icer things as Christmas gifts?

Also, you know how you always stash them away in drawers and other hiding places because at the time you attain the nifty lock de-icers you already have the peace of mind that none of your locks are currently frozen?

Well, I have spent the last two hours trashing every inch of my house searching for any one of my nifty collection and now all I want to find is something with which to blow up the car or the shed.

The end.

Have a nice day.

Is this my hat or my sister's?

Last winter I was given this vaguely familiar hat by my mother.

I was reminded that my grandmother had made it for me when I was about seven.

I barely remember it but whatever. The only person I know who really remembers being seven is Simon who has only been eight for two days now.

The hat was never his though, so I'll get back on topic.

The other day I happened to be showing my mom how to use an iPhone to send e-mails.

I happened to be sporting the hat when I took this picture of myself.

I happened to randomly send the picture to my sister during my demonstration.

My sister happened to freak out about how I was wearing HER hat.

She then went and posted this picture of her wearing the matching scarf.

She insists that it's obviously hers because the frilly fringey stuff could only be made for a girl.

Right after work I'm going to my mom's house to gather more evidence.

I hope I don't have to give up my hat.

Uh oh. What if I can blog from my phone.