Beckett Only Wishes He Could Write Stuff this Surreal.

While being forced by T.O.C.E. to dance around to Chromeo:

H.W.D.N.T.B.N.: I could totally teach aerobics to this song (he demonstrates an unintelligible--and decidedly un-aerobic--dance move).

T.O.C.E.: What the hell was that? Shoveling?

H.W.D.N.T.B.N.: That one's called "holding a monkey."

T.O.C.E.: Yeah, that's juuuuust like aerobics.

H.W.D.N.T.B.N.: Right? I'd be like, "Hold the monkey! Now put him down! Now pick him up by his hands! Now become the monkey! Now step on Japan! Now be the lizard that chases the monkey!"

...and people wonder why I spend so much time hiding under the bed.

My Cat-Aunt.

Behold Mindi, who owns the Humans Called The Ones That Call H.W.D.N.T.B.N. "Son." She's an avid reader of the blog, as all of you should be. Note her excellent computer-hogging skills in the photo below. That evil stare! Those rage-filled ears! That photo of me in the background. Watch and learn, people. This is an organism worth saluting!!!

Dune Looks Like Elena.

I had a blessed day of solitude this past week when my furless roommates took a day trip up to the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. This just in-- Michigan humans use their right palm as a makeshift map of the state. We live down on the right side of the palm, and the Dunes (named after a very depressing Indian legend) are in the space above the tip of the pinkie. Little known fact: cats can use their paws as a map of Connecticut.

Here is the big, sandy dune that everyone tries to climb. Its an easy trek down to the water, but the climb back up--approximately 1 billion feet-- is pretty arduous. Seriously, dudes. People die.

Here is H.W.D.N.T.B.N., trying to convince Her Spazziness to try the climb. Note that his entreating face makes him look like a sober Colin Farrell. Also note his choice of workout gear.
Here's the happy couple, having just climbed all the way back up in record time. Just kidding. T.O.C.E. took one look at all the exhausted children, panting up the hill (despite their young, pink lungs) and said nowaybeyonce. She staged this photo for fake evidence.

J'accuse, poseur!
Something about these photos make me want to go scratch in my litter box.

Exhausted from their long afternoon of fake climbing, the happy couple found a sleepy little town with public beach access and a general store that sells moon pies. They decided to take a dip in the ocean--er lake. Seriously, something this huge and blue should not still be called a lake. This monster borders FOUR states. They should come up with a new name for such a body of water...like "schlake" or something. I'm just brainstorming out loud here.



Before this next photo was taken, H.W.D.N.T.B.N. had to be convinced that there was no such thing as lake undertow. Or lake sharks.



Also note the very secluded beach on which these two are frolicking. This means that, thank goodness, no other humans were around to watch them take the following ridiculous photos. Here, T.O.C.E. shows off her repertoire of "picture faces." This one is called "the Bewitched."

This one is "the hubba-hubba."

And this is "the ear-nose-and-throat check-up."

Oh, the humanity.

So they Loaded Up the Truck and they Moved to Michigeee.

Hullo, folks. No there has not been posting in quite a bit, mostly b/c T.O.C.E. and H.W.blahblah haven't put the interweb into our new home yet. H.W.blahblah has an excuse; he thinks that the interweb is a demon that must be summoned through occult machinations. But T.O.C.E. is just lazy. She shoulda called Comcast weeks ago. Thus, I am forced to blog at a coffeehouse. You have no clue how difficult it is to find a barista who speaks cat, especially in Western Michigan. This one's clientele features an evil-eyed dude in flip flops with two computers going and a Judy-the-Time/Life-Operator headpiece phone into which he only speaks Russian. No poop.

But T.O.C.E. and H.W.yaddayadda have been hard at work, unpacking boxes and buying new furniture, and you can really see the results. Note the warm, rich colors and how they've really taken advantage of the new apartment's high ceilings.


Hahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaa, just kidding. Like that would ever happen. This is for reals...

Here you see the new kitchen. Note how it is such a wreck that the whole room is sideways. Also note how you have to use the kitchen faucet to run the dishwarsher.

Here is the living room. Because H.W.bloopitybloop decided that the brown couch they've had for years would NEVER leave Iowa, this is all the living room furniture they currently own. If T.O.C.E. were resourceful, she would smoosh all that newspaper into some kind of a homesteaders couch. That's what the other bums do. Note that the box of records is filled to capacity. A few days after this was taken, the Idiot Twins found what they say is the world's coolest record store in the middle of nowhere and have since added, like 200 new discs to their collection. This is the place responsible for the fact that I've had to listen to Kraftwerk nonstop for the past six days...

Here I am, lookin' foiiiiiine as usual, gazing warily at the new filing system in the office, which should be used for blogging, but is now just a disco for wayward boxes and receipts. I knocked the whole thing over a few hours after this photog was taken. Gotta do my part.

And this is me, still shaking off the drugs from the move, looking annoyed on the back porch. There's a lot less birds here than at the old place, but there is a squirrel who, swear to Jeebus, does weird interpretive dance off a morning glory bush every day and, behind that fence, there's an amateur boxing ring. So at least there are soothing things to take my mind off the fact that I still bunk with these yahoos. Hurm. Wonder if there are any more of those cat travel drugs left...

Goodbiowa.

Note to the human race: if you ever find yourself living in Iowa and forced to leave Iowa to go to another human state, burn all of your stuff, put your toothbrush in your back pocket, and book a flight to wherever you need to go.

I can now say this with authority, not only the authority of being authoritarian, but with the authority of experience, having stood shoulder-to-shoulder (or rather, shoulder-to-ankle) with T.O.C.E. and H.W.D.N.T.B.N. as they smooshed all their humanly possesions into a truck and moved us all to Grand Rapids Michigan.

Firstlymostofall, there are only two moving trucks in Iowa, apparently. Last week, one of them was being used by The One Called Koalachick to move to someplace called upstateNewDork. The other truck, as T.O.C.E. found out the day before her move, was 90 miles away in Waterloo, Iowa. So the girl and boy human had to drive waaay outa the way, right in the midst of their packing fury. this was horrendously time-consuming, but not so time consuming that T.O.C.E. wouldn't stop in Brandon Iowa to take a photo of the state's largest frying pan:

Secondmoreoverly, I am no fun to live with when we are moving. I start freaking out right when I see the first box. Hey, that's just my way. Real talk, yo.

So, T.O.C.E. shot me up with some grade-A, fine Columbian cat sedative. Which made me very cute (see photo below)...

...and it also made me even smarter than I already am. You heard me. I was like a triple-decker genius cake with genius icing and a scoop of genius on the side. I was so smart, in fact, that I figured out how to open my cat cage halfway through the trip, which I did, right as T.O.C.E. was speeding down the highway. Now, for some reason, these drugs also make me uncharacteristically affectionate. Put that side effect in the afterschool special, kids. So I spent most of the trip sitting on T.O.C.E.'s lap while she drove. I also made googoo eyes at several truckers.

Once we got to Grand Rapids, I crashed out on the porch and T.O.C.E. and H.W.D.N.T.B.N., who are both about a zillion years old, tried to move everything into the house all by themselves. No, I did not help. This proves that C.apeshit is indeed a more evolved human than either of the yuckapoos I live with, as she had the good sense to hire people to lift all her heavy objects for her.

This is a photo of H.W.D.N.T.B.N after he three large pieces of furniture all by himself, pretty much. Note that, despite the fact that there are three glasses of booze around him (one for each furniture item), he is not happy.

Now here he is having drank said booze:

Yes I am letting him pet me. Yes, I am obviously still on drugs. I went out to a club right after this, danced around with a glow stick, and made out with, like, six strangers.

But though the move was arduous, at least it meant that, as they embark on this new chapter in their lives, all of T.O.C.E. and H.W.D.N.T.B.N.'s treasures surround them, reminding them of their great taste and love of the finer things. Like this duck lamp.