Tag Archives: Cats

A Pussy in the Brothel

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

It’s been some time since I used a really catchy (read: risque) title. I’m sure Google just downgraded my site and diverted my already slim traffic.

About the title…

As many of you know, Pye doesn’t travel well. You may recall the time she destroyed her brand new (cloth) carrier in a howling fit a few years ago during our return trip from the time she rode in the chassis for 150 miles. Clearly, she doesn’t do many things well like staying put, with the possible exception of eating, shedding and scratching furniture.

When I temporarily relocated in advance the two recent storms, I reluctantly admited the duct tape was no longer a practical solution to the Pye-shaped holes in the once-new-and-still-hardly-used cat carrier. With plans for an upcoming trip to Tennessee, Oklahoma, Texas, and Louisiana (the trip never happened, but that’s a boring story), I decided to upgrade to a metal, Pye-proof cat carrier.

I ordered it online and, like many things on the internet, But, wait! There’s more…

Was the Petrified Cat Scared to Death? And a dollhouse on Main Street.

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

(Those two things are not related.)

If a cat is petrified and dead, was it scared to death?

(Ahahahaa! I crack me up!)

Seriously, folks, there’s a petrified (dead, not scared) cat in Pensacola. No, I’m not talking about Pye, my oft-scared, bi-polar feline companion for whom I occasionally consider finding a new home… she is alive and well and scratching the crap out of my furniture.

I am talking about a dead cat on display, no less, in a museum. Yup, right here in the good ol’ U.S. of A. can you find such treasures at the local museum as a petrified (dead, not scared) cat on display.

Ah, don’t you just love America? I mean, seriously, in what other country are dead things proudly displayed for a small viewing fee? Cases in point: The (Infamous) Mutter Museum’s collection of dead body parts in jars; The (Dead) Thing in Arizona;  The Two-headed (and doubly dead) Goat in Bandera, Texas; and then there’s Cabela’s – a nation-wide chain devoted to selling hunting merchandise centered around dead things on display.

Only. In. America.

On display at the T.T. Wentworth, Jr., Museum in downtown Pensacola, a small card below tells of the unfortunate fate of the feline from 1850.

Without further ado… (don’t look if you’re squeamish) But, wait! There’s more…

Happy Friday 5 – Celebrate like nobody’s calling the cops.

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

[Note: On or about Fridays, I’m posting five things that I’m enjoying, that inspire me, or that make me happy. I’m totally ripping off this concept from Tim Ferriss’ 5-Bullet Friday. (It is highly likely I am not as organized as Tim and may not post exactly on Friday. You can wait until Friday to read them if it makes you feel better.) Tim’s five bullet points are typically highly useful mini life hacks and recommendations. Mine will be some semi-useful life hacks, with more fluff (which means a cute puppy or kitty picture here and there). These posts, intended to brighten your day, will be fairly short and something for you to do if work is slow. Or if you’re avoiding doing something, like I am.]

Celebrate like nobody’s calling the cops.

This was on my office mate's desk today. I laughed out loud.

This was on my office mate’s desk today. I laughed out loud.

Here’s this week’s Happy Friday 5:

What I’m watching: “Kitty Love Song” by the cute engineers who brought us “An Engineer’s Guide to Cat Yodeling” and many others that will have you laughing out loud.

Quote I’m pondering:

“Can you imagine feeling at home in the world no matter where you are? If you eventually master this art, outer circumstances won’t distort your relationship with yourself. No matter how crazy or chaotic the people around you might be, you will remain rooted in your unshakable sense of purpose; you will respond to any given situation in ways that make you both calm and alert, amused and curious, compassionate for the suffering of others and determined to do what’s best for you. If you think these are goals worth seeking, you can make dramatic progress toward them in the coming weeks.”

But, wait! There’s more…

Picking fly turds out of pepper.

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

This post is a selection of random photos from around Texas. Some I’ve had for a long time, but there hardly seemed enough story about any one of them to form a whole post by themselves. Then I had the brilliant idea to lump all the mini posts into one…

Hence, the title: Picking fly turds out of pepper.

Not that these are turds, per se, they’re merely lacking in back story. Although, some of these were taken before my photo skills improved, so they are turds in that respect.

Canyon Lake in Canyon Lake. This was taken three years ago. If you decide to visit, do not wear a sundress. Why? Because it’s windy on top of the dam. The wind will catch your skirt, flip it up, and show your rear end to everyone behind you, also walking along the dam. And then you will have to walk along the rest of the dam and back holding your skirt down with both hands. You will look silly holding your skirt down. Probably. It’s just a guess.

Canyon Lake

The dam at Canyon Lake. A nice place for a walk, but not in a dress.

100_2169 But wait, there’s more… But, wait! There’s more…

Got toe crack? Also known as toe cleavage.

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

You all know how I endeavor to educate you in some small way, to provide you with some tidbit of useless useful information that you might share while idly standing at the office water cooler. While this one isn’t as interesting as say, the time we all learned about Spider Prostitution, it is worthy of sharing with you, and perhaps with your friends and coworkers. However, it does relate in a small way to office attire. Just wait, you’ll see. And you may never be the same. (I haven’t been, but then again this has been “a thing” for many years and, much like spider prostitution, I only learned about it much later in life. It’s likely you are more in touch with the world and already know about this.)

The day I learned about Toe Crack, also known as Toe Cleavage.

While standing around with a group of friends and acquaintances, I notice the acquaintance in front of me is staring at me feet. He’s staring hard.

To give you a little background, this is a “business casual/dressy” environment and I’m wearing an unremarkable outfit, common office attire. And a pair of blue suede, closed-toe pumps.

Pye and my blue suede shoes, with toe cleavage.

Pye and my blue suede shoes, with toe cleavage. Pye has a shoe fetish.

The guy briefly looks up to my face and promptly declares he loves how my feet look in the shoes.

This was more than your usual, “I like your (shoes/hair/eyes)” comment. He was practically salivating, much like someone who’s just seen an ice cream cone for the first time after months of sweltering hot summer. But, wait! There’s more…

The Life of Pye: And that’s why we can’t have nice things

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Pye.

Pye, Pye, Pye. *shaking my head*

Is it Karma that sent me a Devil Cat? Is there no way to appease the Gods?

I love my furry monster-child, but Pye needs a hobby. She’s bored, perhaps more so because I’ve been home and she is now awake more than usual. Normally, when I’m gone during the day, she sleeps. When I’m gone for a night or two, she goes on an eating strike and hides when her friendly, animal-loving sitter comes over. And she messes up stuff around the RV. (Or pees on my bed three times after I come back from a trip, like she did when I went to Oklahoma for Christmas.)

But when I’m home, like I have been since my surgery, she is awake and demands constant entertainment and attention. Or she’ll start wrecking stuff.

Pye debating whether to play with the keyboard - again, or push the books off the table - again.

Pye debating whether to play with the keyboard – again, or push the books off the table – again.

I can’t sit at my computer table without her trying to “assist” by pushing my papers off the table, or stepping on the keyboard. She relocates all pens to goodness knows where. And if neither of those two things produce the desired response from me? She starts in on the curtains and blinds.

She is not much of a lap cat. It would be great if she could sit with me while I’m on the computer. But no.

She has only recently, But, wait! There’s more…

Why We Have Pets

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Why do we have pets?

This even looks like Pye. A friend sent it. It's from http://icanhas.cheezburger.com/lolcats .

This even looks like Pye. (From http://icanhas.cheezburger.com/lolcats)

Not that I don’t sometimes wonder why I have Pye as a pet, but my question is why do we have pets in general?

We feed, shelter, groom and care for these foreign-looking beings. They’re covered in fur, walk on four paws, and may make a lot of noise. They scratch or dirty the furniture, and often make messes in inappropriate places. (Like when Pye peed on my bed because I was losing my shirt at WinStar without her.) They may even bite or scratch.

Yet, we pet owners tolerate it all. The question is, Why?

My mom recently recounted a story about her cat Zaki barfing on the bed after a traumatic experience at the groomer’s. Ah, the joys of kitty ownership! Hairballs But, wait! There’s more…

Tales From The Life of Pye, The New Office, and The RV Park

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

As the title indicates, there are things going on on several fronts… some of which include a delayed display of common sense.

It's a shame you can't buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

It’s a shame you can’t buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

This is another episode of Tales From the RV Park, stories from the RV parks where I’ve camped. Disclaimer: These stories are fictitious, happened in nightmares, are hearsay, and/or are what others recounted to me. I am part Irish, so there is likely a good deal of exaggeration. The names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. There is no relation to persons living, dead, or in jail, even if you think so. In other words, don’t bother trying to sue me.

Raccoon Freedom

Much to my delight – and I’m sure his – Roscoe the Raccoon was released in to the wild a couple days ago.

He was miserable, cowering in the corner of the cage, or alternately trying to escape and pushing his cage around the room. It broke my heart to see him so unhappy. He was sweet, and didn’t bite unless you tried to pick him up or if he got scared. But he never bonded with us and it looked like he never would.

I really wanted to release him at the location where his brothers and sisters were released. The guys decided not to wait and instead released him about a mile or so away from the office in a rural area near a creek.

Tales From The RV Park

Holy Heavy Drinkers, Batman! But, wait! There’s more…

Tales From the RV Park and Pye Needs A Pill

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

This is another episode of Tales From the RV Park, stories from the RV parks where I’ve camped. Disclaimer: These stories are fictitious, happened in nightmares, are hearsay, and/or are what others recounted to me. I am part Irish, so there is likely a good deal of exaggeration. The names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. There is no relation to persons living, dead, or in jail, even if you think so. In other words, don’t bother trying to sue me.

It's a shame you can't buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

It’s a shame you can’t buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

Yes, folks it’s true, I have left Cow-Chicken-Oil Town and am now at a new one. Still in Texas, this town has oil, but no cows or chickens! The new RV park is larger, has a pool, a rec room, and more people! This means new fodder for Tales.

It will take some time to find out what goes on behind the scenes here, but stay tuned. Meanwhile, I will share a brief, somewhat uninteresting, final story from the old park, and then tell you about Pye’s ride over here to the new park. But, wait! There’s more…

The day Pye stowed away in the RV chassis for 150 miles.

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

We interrupt our regularly scheduled episode of the Online Dating Chronicles to bring you …this post. I don’t know what to call it. I can’t make this stuff up. Even if I could be that dishonest, I’m neither that creative nor bright.

In the latest episode of OMGOMGOMGOMG crazy shit Pye does The Life of Pye, she stowed away in the chassis/undercarriage of my RV for almost 150 miles and 3.5 hours!

*blond lemming faints*

Friday morning, on my way to meet up with a group of other single RVers, I packed up the RV for the first time in awhile. I was excited to finally be taking the RV on the road after many months. But, like so many things, this packing-up made Bipolar Pye nervous. (Last time, when I moved from one side of the park to the other, she peed on the driver’s seat because she was so freaked out.)

This time, she took to her favorite sleeping and hiding spot behind the couch/hide-a-bed. It’s quite safe and secluded because the only way in is by diving down the small space between the back of the couch and the wall. And the only way I can retrieve her is by partially unfolding the couch/hide-a-bed, then crawling under and pulling her out. Knowing she was fairly well sequestered, I continued packing up the RV.

I didn’t think she would leave the comfort of her hard-to-get-out-of hiding spot, but much like my last choice of dates, I was wrong. After pulling in the RV slides, I went outside and checked everything. When I opened the door to come back in Pye leaped out! But, wait! There’s more…