An Art Critique

I got a package in the mail today. No, no, it’s not a new box, but how excited I was to see this item of mail addressed in handsome handwriting to J. G. Fuzzenstein! For years I’d been living vicariously though the humans, living literally in their discarded boxes and packaging materials as though the were my own. Sure, I get plenty of junk mail, newsletters, and the usual, but never have I received a quality package for moi! On this oversized envelope lovingly cushioned in bubble paper was written “Art Work Do Not Bend.” Perhaps the posthuman thought this an ironic note or mere envelope decoration, but the damage done was minimal, and is nothing a little fine matting and framing won’t erase.

I had the female open the envelope with all the delicacy her opposable thumbs could muster. And out came the Slayer! Oh yes, dear reader, I am well acquainted with the slayer. Many a nights did the humans and I lay on the couch in insomniatic-Buffy-marathon-mode exchanging whedonesque quips with each other while eagerly losing all touch with reality. It was quite the bonding experience. In fact, if it weren’t for the shared Buffylove, I may have left them.

Coming back to the artwork, you might be asking yourself who’s handsome face that is this on the Buffy’s top? Yours truly! (also with the expression of a fearless slayer, I might add) Yes, it’s quite the masterpiece for my collection. I’d given up on my art collection after commissioning the female to do a piece. She choose for the subject a still life of Mrs. Potato Head. I don’t think too little can be said about the Mrs. Potato Head failure. But now with this Karl Moline to add the collection, I can start afresh!

Thank you Mike!


A Box for All Occasions

The humans have been making a lot of online purchases lately. If I know my reader well, you’re probably thinking that I’m going to go on a tirade about wasteful human consumerism and/or an increase in laziness while wastefully consuming. If that is what you are thinking, dear reader, you couldn’t be more mistaken. With every new online purchase comes a NEW BOX! Not all of these boxes are perfect of course, but the excitement of trying out a new box is all I ask for.

I have several boxes now to go with my varying moods. There is the shallow number that suits me perfectly in the afternoons with the sun warming up the sides. Then, there are deeper, more snug boxes, when one wants to be fully ensconced in the cardboard blanket of boxness. I have a couple variations of these boxes, some more aged and “lived in” than others.

The male has been threatening to throw them out, but if I know my humans well, their procrastination and laziness will always keep a few spare boxes around.

Filling out US Census 2010: A Feline Review

My fellow Americans, your government is counting on you to fill out your US Census Bureau forms! How exciting it is to be a part of this! At least, that was my attitude when the survey first arrived many weeks ago. The female set it on the coffee table where it remained until yesterday. Both the male and female remained somewhere between forgetting and not realizing the existence of this form.

When a second letter arrived, I couldn’t take this human procrastination any longer! I decided to fill it out for them. To my surprise, it only cares about people!

1. How many PEOPLE live in my household?

Never before have I felt so dismissed by my country. They didn’t once ask about how many cats live in the household. Is this a giant oversight or purposeful feline discrimination? However, I continued the survey with my usual perseverance. I found that with a few quick changes, I could alter the census to fit my standards. By simply marking out Person 1 and writing over it Cat 1, problem solved.

2. Were there any additional people staying in the household not included in question 1?

Heavens no! I firmly stick to the 1:2 rule. Not more than 2 people per cat.

3. Rented.

4. What is your telephone #?

I don’t care for phone calls myself, but I did enter in the female’s phone # in case there were any questions about the survey.

5. Name? Jeeves G. Fuzzenstein.

6. Sex? Female

7. Age?

My birthday is a bit of a mystery, as I am an orphan and don’t recall my own birth. I would estimate between 5 and 6 years of age. I do have an observed birthday of October 12 which I made up when I established my facebook profile.

8. Hispanic? Not to my knowledge.

9. Race?

I crossed out Person 1’s race and wrote in Cat 1’s color. I’m glad that I could check more than 1 box, as I am both black AND white.

10. Does person one sometimes live or stay somewhere else?

I can safely say no to that question. I like to think of myself as an intellectual traveler. I have no need to stay anywhere outside of my loft.

At this point, I turned the page of this lengthy survey, where I was given the opportunity to fill out sections for the male and female. I’ve always called them roommates in the past, but I think now I might start referring to them as “other nonrelatives.” That describes our relationship perfectly! I quickly filled out the other questions so I could reach the more in-depth part of the survey.

But flipping through the pages, I learned that this was the end of the survey! Don’t they care about my habits and beliefs?! How dull! I feel like I’ve just been ASL’d via snail mail by some curt stranger who has no intention of replying. Overall the US Census 2010 was quite a disappointment.

Up pulls the taxi cab

I watched from the windowsill Tuesday afternoon as the female arrived back home after a three-night sojourn (location unknown). I was excited to see her, I must admit. When the female is away, the only attention I receive from the male is mostly unwanted. While she was gone, he brought home some wonderfully-sized white boxes. He’s not a fan of sharing however. It’s very difficult for me to pass up a new box opportunity. Not that it matters now, as he already has most of them filled.

Anyway, I saw from the window that the female was finally back. I jumped with joy and then headed to her desk chair. I didn’t want to act too eager when she came home. Compliments like that usually go straight to her head. I was “sleeping” when she got home. I couldn’t resist a little head nuzzling though. As usual, she smelled like mini-human. This is typical after she’s been away for a few days.

The next day, she came back early from work, looking mighty pale. I think maybe she caught some strange disease from the mini-human. Luckily, (I did a bit of research) I am immune to all things mini-human.

She went back to work today, and I thought I’d have a peaceful day to myself, but now the male is refusing to leave. Come on people! I can’t miss you, if you don’t leave! Sure, I may throw in some extra head nuzzling when the female has been gone for awhile but, as they say, familiarity breeds contempt. I am becoming all too familiar with my humans as the week nears its end. I hope they have some more vacations coming up.

Office Humor

The female keeps forwarding me spamy emails of her own creation. I don’t know why she decided to add me to her mailing list. Her sense of humor, already much less discerning than mine, appears to be even more jumbled in the office place. Things that wouldn’t be funny are suddenly hysterical to her. She insists it is funny. Office humor she says. Office humor? Or total detachment from reality? I’ve acquired enough of these “episodes” to warrant it’s own blog.

The Weight Issue

So I’ve put on a few pounds, people! There is no need to be constantly pointing this out. Every visitor who enters the loft is full of the obvious observations. Yes, Yes, I’m fat. What can I say, I’m a stress-eater.

The female’s family stopped by on the weekend. They took notice of my wide girth, which is just ridiculous. All of them weigh more than me. Sure I’m just a cat, but nobody likes to be reminded of their weight issues.

Even without this recent reminder, I have been thinking lately that losing a few pounds might help boost my diminished energy levels.

So I’ve decided I’ll give yoga a try. I’ve been checking out some books on yoga positions that the female brought back for me from the library. I’m pretty good at the “corpse pose” but have physical, as well as moral qualms, when it comes to the “downward dog pose.”

Who is The Man?

Evidently, my humans are being sorely inconvenienced by the man. I thought, at first, they were talking about the “man” but no. We are dealing with “the man.” This is not a tangible man. According to my extensive research (Wikipedia): “The Man” is a slang phrase that refers to the government leaders of large corporations, and other authority figures in general, rather than a specific person.

I wonder, is there a cat equivalent to the man? Can I blame all my qualms with feline society on “the cat”? I don’t think we have an all purpose scapegoat for what is wrong.

At first, I thought it was a good thing to be the man. But my roommates have shown that this is not at all the case. To rebel against the man, a person must do things they enjoy. Which brings me to a popular human trait: finding deeper justifications for doing what mainly benefits oneself.

I’ve gathered that rebelling against the man involves a few important steps:

  • 1. Rock and Roll (possibly the reason my humans constantly form fake rock bands)
  • 2. Not “selling out” (which is easily done when nobody is interested in “buying out” the individual in question)
  • 3. Excessive consumption of alcohol and/or drugs. (an aid to steps 1 and 4)
  • 4. Make unfeasible plans to take down the man
  • 5. Work for the man as a way getting the “in” while all along planning to take down the man from the inside (until years later, when the comfortable position acquired makes one slowly forget this step)

If anyone can enlighten me more on the man, please do so. I’m quite intrigued by the whole idea.

Caution: Cat Toy?

Something relatively bizarre did happen today. As I stepped onto the living room rug for my afternoon sun bath, I caught sight of a suspicious package. It was wrapped in a shiny paper printed with a man shape in a ridiculous spider costume. I started to tear at the ribbon incasing this spidery man-covered box.

An hour later, a strange tube was revealed. I would assume it is a toy but the size is too small for comfort. I thought I could exchange it, but the giver left no gift receipt. As it is, I’m stuck with this Chinese Cat Trap. There is a thoughtful sunroof in the middle of the tube which is sprinkled with an alluring California catnip.

Why must such wonderfully harmful things always be so tempting!

Happy New Year.

I must have slept through the entire New Year’s fiasco. I woke up and the year had changed on me. Usually the humans do some kind of countdown, or at least announce that they accidentally missed the countdown. I don’t even think they were around when this arbitrary party excuse was happening. Thankfully, I missed any excitement that might have taken place. I suppose that doesn’t make for a very interesting blog, but this calm cat is just fine with that.


I spent all my mental energy today in reading and commenting on the male’s blog about Piracy. No, not that kind of piracy.

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