Whad? Whad? WHAD????I hord you wor' eadeen lonch, so I came to seed ad the table.
Thees ees your chair?
Esco-oooo-suh mi! I gard heear fors'.
You wor seedeen' hear fors'? Then porquewhy deed you ged orp? Oh, you forgard sometheen'. Seelly, seelly you! Fine anorder chair. Now.
DOAN' forgheen' squash me you gread brude!
Ees thad corntree pate I see arn the table? Yes, como un beeg slice ob highclass cad food.
Yes, I weell taghe a bide...
Thanks for askeen'.
Now bacade my sead.
Oh yeah! Tell him, hermano. Firs' come, firs' serve is the rule.
ReplyDeleteYour yoomans should be glad you sit on a chair, not jump all over the table.
Hey, mister - you wanted cat blogs, you got cat blogs! Where's our contribution to the literary world (thecatsdinnertime.blogspot.com/) on your blog list? Nowhere, that's where. Wanted, pleaded, got, lost interest? You are such a CAT, Estorbo!
ReplyDeleteYou tell 'em! I love how your attitude just lures me to your blog EVERY day (sometimes twice) in hopes of more Estorbo!
ReplyDeletenow that's an interesting evolutionary step...a man with a cat between his legs...
ReplyDeleteThe human should recalculate how close your claws are to some special, sensitive areas.
ReplyDeleteJust Sayin'.
quiltcat: well, since said cat has nothing left between his own legs...
ReplyDeleteKatnip Lounge: yeah, you're right, those claws were much too close to my beloved dive watch.
All I yab to say ees the man neearly squash' me. He ged orp, he yompa orp, he corm bag, he no see me, he seed! Ees crazy! Anyway, I yab too moch respeghd por anynardy's cojones to maghe attagh, I doan' eben remembhair mine.
ReplyDeleteSneeff.
An' sormbardy, PLEEASE por fabor sen' me a new forgheen' jacket. I yam so seeck ob red.