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Newsday Tuesday

I don't know if anyone here realizes that I lost one of my 9 lives last week. It is true. I only have 8 left and—need I tell you—it's all the woman's fault.

In happier times with non-toxic plants

Last week, she had a terrible cold. She was snotty and miserable and then the nasal drip and cough from hell started. I could only keep my distance and laugh. Last Thursday night, she decided to try the Vicks waterless inhaler thingy. Of course, she just presumed since it was natural—oils of lavender, rosemary and eucalyptus—that it was safe from cats. Not so fast, woman!

When she woke up, she discovered that her little sleeping partner was not in her bed. She discovered me, looking a bit lethargic on Pop's bed. Then she finally decided to go online. WARNING: DO NOT USE EUCALYPTUS OIL AROUND CATS. IT IS HIGHLY TOXIC! In fact, it's used to repel cats. She panicked, as she should have; so I turned to my furrends on Twitter and Facebook to see what they knew. Turns out, not more than she did. My good furrend @MizzBassie suggested the ASPCA Poison Control Web Site. We now highly recommend this site for anybody who wonders if plants or cleansers are toxic for their animals. The woman thought that just because she used all-natural products, they would be safe. NO! She now wonders about the Method bathroom cleaner she uses. It states it's not toxic for humans or pets, yet it contains eucalyptus oil.

She panicked again and decided to monitor me since I always sleep until 1-2 pm and am usually a bit lethargic when I awake. She calls it "dopey" but if there's anything dopey around here, it's her.

Usually when I wake up, I go right for the food dish, this particular morning, I didn't. She panicked on top of her panic although she calmed down when I tried to bite her. Eventually, I ran through my tunnel. She went for a late lunch and that's when I went towards the kitchen. You want to know what that cold-hearted, callous Bitch told me? These were her exact hard, calculating words—after she almost killed me, mind you!— "You have a full dish of hard food there. If you're hungry, eat that. It's not time for your soft food." Gasp! Hard food!! In my delicate condition. I could have gastrointestional distress! I could have something even worse!

As things turned out, I have weathered that storm and am back to my old self, albeit one life short of a full deck. She owes me BIG-TIME, don't you think. And I owe her quite a few severe bitings and scratchings.

Monday Meanderings

Meanderings, that's a big word for a cat from the 'hood, ain't it? Not only am I stunning, but I'm also highly intelligent. Hope that doesn't scare any of the mancats off. We'll now commence with my meanderings.

You got a problem with me, woman?

Whaaaaa? You look perturbed woman. This better be good cos your screeching woke me from my beauty nap. Yeah? I can see I'm laying on some nicely-folded, fresh-smelling t-shirts here ... and for that I thank you ... is there a problem? There better not be or someone's getting bitten here. Hello? Why wouldn't I want to lay on your "clean laundry"? I'm a cat! We're very clean animals. Besides, they're Pop's shirts and he loves me so he won't mind. Don't you have more chores to do? Go away! Shoo! When I wanna play, I'll let you know. Now that we've handled this little crisis, I presume I can get back to my nap? 

I've got a problem with you!

Annoying little pill, isn't she? You gotta put the staff in their place once in a while, or in my staff's case, every single day.

Nice ... comfy ... nap ...zzzzzz

Language Keisha!

I hear that a lot from my Pop. As you know, I spent my formative years living in the mean streets of the ghetto down by the entrance of the Holland Tunnel. That ain't no place to raise a little kitteh. I spent almost a year on the street before I was arrested and caged like an animal. What do you mean, I am an animal. I'm a CAT, dammit! Anyway, that's the equivalent of about 13 human years, since the first year of a cat's life equals 15 human years. A cat pretty much has her habits and language down by that point. It's bad enough, they took my street slang away but now they want me to clean up my potty mouth?? Yo, homey, you be jocking my style. That's almost cruelty to cats. Anyway, we're reaching a compromise online.

Instead of WTF, I will now be saying WTM or "what the meow?" so I propose other anipals start doing the same. You already say BOL, MOL or QOL for LOL. So rather than WTF, dogs can say WTB (what the bark), and if they're really upset WTG (what the growl). For cats, it'll be WTM or WTH (what the hiss). And ducks can intone WTQ. It can be the new slang of the web. Can you feel it? Who's with me on this one? I'll buy you a drink tonight at the Nip Club.

WTH? You betta believe I look annoyed!

Happy Father's Day

As all my furrends know, I am Pop's girl. I have him totally wrapped around my stunning paw. I love my Pop more than anything in the world, unless you're counting food, of course. I found some pictures of my Pop and I to celebrate his day on Sunday. Pop is the only human I'll let hold me. He's also the only one I'll purr for.

I love how my Pop holds me
Pop doesn't really want to read the paper when he can pet me!
Yo, anything good on the telly tonight, Pop?
My Pop doesn't want his picture taken, which is why you just see pieces of him. I think he must be wanted by the FBI or something, but it's just a guess. You can see he's just as furry as I am and he doesn't shave it all off like the woman!

The week after I was adopted, Pop went to the human's vet and had back surgery. He was gone an entire week during which we had a blizzard with 28 inches of snow. When he returned home, I nursed him back to health. (Don't tell him I sold some of his pain meds on the street to make some $$.) Even though I was still feral and wouldn't let him pet me, I followed him everywhere he went. I enjoyed that he slept with me all day. If it wasn't for Pop, I'd be back at the shelter by now. He's my mouthpiece. He doesn't care that I bite the woman all the time. I'm his stunning little girl; his Pretty Kitty.

Happy Father's Day! This nip's for you! And a Happy Father's Day for all my furrend's male human's too!

Newsday Tuesday, Item 4

My peeps would like to announce the engagement of Cathy Keisha to Tuna Katt. Yes, Tuna finally proposed to me over chicken dinner Sunday night and I accepted. I've known Tuna since our days with the Alleys in the mean streets of Jersey City. The only thing Tuna fears worse than the Po Po is commitment. Lately he's gotten a little worried when he sees all my would-be suitors on Twitter and Facebook and he didn't want to lose me. Awwwww! He wants to set a date in 2012 and, of course, I don't want to wait that long. His line of work is dangerous so he might not live that long. Speaking of his "work," he gave me a gorgeous ring; but the woman says she's seen a sign on our elevator saying the one of the neighbors "lost" a ring Sunday that looks like my new ring. Well, now that ring is mine! Tuna wouldn't give me a hot ring ... maybe a hot i-phone but not a hot ring.

♥♥ TUNA ♥♥
The woman started looking to plan my wedding and, much to her dismay, discovered that in the state of NJ, cat weddings are not legal and binding. How can that be? The law says I need a photo id and social security number to get married. We can't even apply for a Civil Union, since we're not the same sex. What's going on here? It seems that only heterosexual humans can get married in this state. That's cat discrimination and I'll have to find a way around it. Oooh, Tuna says he's going to get us the documentation we need cos he's got some friends in da hood who know somebody ...

Newsday Tuesday, Item 3

Yep, got a bunch of stuff today that I finally want to write about. I've been keeping busy doing a lot of dj work recently and have also been fortunately enough to win a couple of really nice prizes.

As well as dj'ing all the Pawpawties for @Fergusthedog, I've also worked the mega Dudefest and have a shift at the Nip Club, which opened about 6 weeks ago. The Nip Club gig is ultra cool because @TheNascarKitty lets me play whatever I want. The first week I worked, I played mostly hard rock but last time I held the First Cathy Keisha Dance Party Hour, with contests and prizes and the works. I played dance music from the twist to the hustle and beyond. @Mariodacat and TheNascarKitty won the two prizes I gave out during the party. He tells me it got rave reviews, but I really wouldn't know since no one took the time to DM me personally to let me know. I do know over 50 anipals were there. After my shift, I won the 1st Nip Club prize ever, a $20 donation in my name was made to their charity, Lanie's Animals in Crisis

The mega Dudefest was to honor @Frugaldougal, who's in ill health. To tell the truth, I wasn't sure what to play at a Dudefest. Since Dougal has done so much good helping animal charities, I decided to play songs which honor Planet Earth and all her inhabitants. I stuck around after my set and wound up winning a scarf from @Pasikas, which I'll wrap up and give to the woman for her birthday next month. The 2 Dudefest charities were the  Houslow Animal Welfare Society and the Kaninchenrettung rabbit shelter in Germany. Over $1300 was raised.

I also won Rumblepurr's contest and won a gift certificate, which the woman used to replace my worn out scratching post. I thank her for that.
I won the tall scratching post from Rumblepurr.

Newsday Tuesday, Item 2

A few of you have inquired as to what was in that huge box I was standing on a couple of weeks ago. I was negligent and rude and didn't reply. I can now reveal the contents of the box. It turns out, it was for the woman. A stereo that records records and tapes onto CD so they can be put on the computer and Pop can listen to them on his i-pod. I didn't photoshop out the make and model number in case someone else's peeps actually still own—or for that matter—know what records and tapes are.

At least I got to play in the box for a few days.

Newsday Tuesday, Item 1

A couple of months ago, I wrote about the stone-age woman and her love of rocks and how she even used one to bathe with. Then a couple of days after the piece ran, we got some new rocks in the mail. They were so heavy, the porter had to carry them up. When he rang the bell, he said, "These are heavy. What's in them? Rocks." The woman said, "Yes." HAH!

She told me they're salt lamps. The tiny light bulb heats the salt, which purifies the air. Come again, woman? She said they're better than the air purifiers we had because they don't emit ozone, which can irritate the lungs of little cats. If anyone else is interested, she got them at the Himalayan Salt Shop, where they're currently running a sale.

These salt lamps are very pretty but I still think the woman has rocks in her head!
This salt lamp weighs more than I do. Seriously.

Wednesday Words of Wisdom

He who enters tunnel, deals with Keisha

Eulogy For A True Goddess

A year or so ago, the world was treated to a new sensation out of Liverpool, England. She was bigger than the Beatles; bigger than any entertainer to come out of that town. Men cats swooned. Lady cats all wanted to be her. We all wanted to be cool like @MedusaJ, the scaredy cat with the orange legs. The diva had entered the world of Twitter and Facebook. They would never be the same. And neither will we.

Sadly, MedusaJ, aka Rosie Cat, has left the building. She went OTRB yesterday morning at 9:45. She left way too soon and she left us pleading for an encore.

Rosie was a good friend. Wait, she was much more than a good friend. She was someone I could be myself with. I could get a little bit raunchy and know that she understood and wouldn't get bent out of shape. I didn't have to watch my "P's and Q's"—whatever than means though I hear its a common idiom around here. She even followed my Pop on Twitter when I mentioned that he opened an account so he could make sure I wasn't getting too naughty with the boys.

I used to love to make her laugh her evil laugh. Bwaaahahaa! She became my "Cracklin' Rosie" after she posted a picture of herself in front of the fireplace at Christmas.

I love her. Unfortunately, with the time differences, we didn't meet too much on Twitter. Thank God for Facebook. The time we did spend together always made me laugh, or at least smile. She brought out the best in me.

This isn't Goodbye because I know that we'll meet again OTRB. To her Mum Marie, her Dad and minidude—I always loved that name—I offer love and support and a shoulder to cry on. I know I'm a better cat for having known her.

Sleep well Goddess Rosie. The world has lost another legend in the prime of her life.

Wednesday Words of Wisdom

Two Keishas are better than one!