Greetings from the Omnigraphic Blogopticon. On view are vile sticky things dragged from the attic, snarky commentary on the world at large, and all-encompassing ennui. All that and a weird rubbery smell. A horrible time will be had by all.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009


I forgot to mention Little Bastard Grady's favorite nighttime trick--pouncing on my head in the middle of the night. He'll bound from somewhere and belly-flop onto my face, wrapping all four paws around my head like the creature from Alien. He then tries to bite my forehead, all the while purring like a lawnmower. Sometimes I suspect someone is actually in my apartment throwing cats at me like the Crazy Cat Lady on The Simpsons.

He's now starting to think his name is "Goddammit Grady".

Fight fight fight, bite bite bite.

1 comment:

Scott said...

He'd learn his lesson if you just wrapped your head in fly strips before bed.