Um… Bob?
What have you been up to?
You told us you adopted The Beast from an Australian postdoc. Now, tell the truth: are you actually planning to invade Germany with an army of undead cats?
I didn’t realise how prophetic Brian’s poem was…
(explanation after the jump)
I hope Bob got to use one of those push-the-lever-down-slowly-as-thunder-crashes electricity thingies. Or actually, this is a cat, isn’t it? He probably had to use a can opener.
Can openers and bags of treats work pretty well in my hands!
Bwahahahahahaaaa!
Bob, that was my first reaction too! I was browsing the paper in a local coffee shop, and almost chocked on my sandwich.
Actually, the way to make The beast come alive is to walk into the kitchen.
For some reason this reminded me of Lynn Truss’ essay about her cats
Google is obsessed with watching flushing toilets. As soon as you press that lever, she comes galloping in to stare at the water swirling down the hole. It’s truly bizarre.
Cath, it’s essential that you say “Google”, not Google. I was wondering why the heck a search engine was in your bathroom.
I will one up you with this .
How about Google-Schmoogle? Boogie Woogie Schmoogie? No?
BTW, congratulations to your own kitty cat on his amazing Nobel Peace Prize win. Please remind me, though: what has he done, exactly, to deserve it?
Ouch. My Obama is far cuter than the president, as can be seen here:
And he was so named before the current Obama took power.
My Obama has done lots lately, like keep me company. What has Google done for you?
Snuggles on the sofa, and (amazingly) not jumping onto my shoulder from the back of the sofa while I’m recovering from my tattoo.