sorry, that's all I could find as far as offensive pictures go...

Surprise ! It's Caturday !




Post some cats...

Bucket has a son ?

Ms Behave you are....

Rehearsin' my riffs for Caturday night.

Diary of a Cat

DAY 359
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.

DAY 362
Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded; I must try this at the top of the stairs.

Day 365
In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair. I think I should try this on their bed - while they are in it.

DAY 369
Showed my jailers what I am capable of today by decapitating a mouse and laying the headless body at their feet. Alas, my plan to strike fear into their hearts seems to have failed. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was...

DAY 381
Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep-depriving, incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night.

DAY 388
I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time, however, it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What kind of sick mind could invent such a liquid? My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.

DAY 390
There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer." More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." I MUST learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

DAY 399
I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and may even be accomplices. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. On the other hand, the Bird has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue (something akin to mole speech) and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured. But I can wait; it is only a matter of time...

Today is my Caturday whenz yours ?



I r not squeezy toy !

iz not ur butt iz my pillow.

aint nobody here but us chickens

sounds liek an good deel… let us shaek on it






I MAED NU FREND

Kitty needs his medicines...





xenu

one more then i gotta go snuggle with the wife,

We dvr'd roman holiday

ciao

Caturday night's all right for fighting.