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Easter Hop

My mancat Parker is the best. He's a DJ and music junkie like myself. He wanted give me something special for Easter but knows that chocolate is toxic to cats and so are jelly beans. Instead he invited me over to his place for a little pawty where he filmed this video. The other couple are his fursibs Maggie and Kenzu. If you can't see it, go here to view it

Whether you celebrate Easter or Passover, I hope you have a hoppy happy one.

Getting Back at the Peeps

Welcome to another wild and wacky edition of Senile Saturday, where the peeps are featured—and usually roasted.

I told y'all that I was gonna get back at TW for those Easter hats she made me wear. I don't care if I didn't physically have to wear them. You guys seemed to like #2 and #4. I'll have to go with #2 since it doesn't have birds and eggs and stuff on it. I like Katnip Lounges' idea of making TW wear #4. As the old saying goes: you say it and we play it!

Getting Back at the Peeps

Feast or Famine. CK's Confesses

My name is Cathy Keisha and I have an eating disorder. I'm a binge eater. Yes, it's true. *SOOOB sobsobsob* HWONK! Sniffle! Here's my story.

My largely untouched Autumn Bounty chicken
Yes, some days I eat the entire half a can of stinky goodness for breakfast, eat most of my grain-free and scarf down my FF tuna before 6 pm. Then if I'm still starving, Pop or TW will give me a pouch of Whiskas. Then for two days after, I barely pick at my foods. I mostly just eat the FF tuna and leave my breakfast and grain-free barely touched. TW gets worried when I don't eat much cos I don't drink H2O so I get all my liquid from the wet foods. Forget it if TW adds water to my stinky goodness. Scrape, scrape.

A few years ago, when I got dehydrated and the v.e.t. had to give me fluids, they said I had IBS. The peeps were shocked since I hardly ever frow up and my poos were well formed. My only problem is that on days when I'm not binging, I hardly sniff my food. The v.e.t.—the one who knew nothing and tried to kill me by turning me upside down—said that when I lick my lips, it's a sign I'm nauseous. I lick my lips a lot but TW thinks it's cos the house is so dry. Her lips and mouth gets dry also and she's not nauseous.

I'd rather eat the stale food than the grain-free.
Wednesday, I did well on my breakfast, barely touched lunch and was given my Fancy Feast a bit late. I wasn't pleased it was 20 minutes late. TW went to wash the stinky goodness off her hands when she suddenly heard the dulcet tones of kitty gurgling. Yes, I frew up right on the rug—where else? She was pleased it wasn't on my new cat tree since last year when I projectile bomited, it was on my carpeted cat tree. All over my carpeted cat tree! I've lived here 7 years and have only frowed up four times so how could I have IBS? This time she remembered the Bissell Stomp 'n Go®, which did a really good job on the rug. Since my incident yesterday, I've actually eaten some food laced with water so TW doesn't go all loony on me.

I get TW really mad when I eat kibble when she has the grain-free out for me. Heh-heh! I'm a cat; I don't aim to please!

Wednesday Word of the Day—Embarrassed

TW wanted today's word to be Frills. Sorry, embarrassed fits this post a lot more. It seems that for the past 2 weeks, TW has been Googling "Embarrassing Easter Bonnets" and "Atrocious Easter Bonnets" for me to wear. I admit I look stunning in anything, but gimme a break! The collage below shows you pictures of all of the hats of shame and you can decide which one I should wear in this year's Easter Parade down the Avenue—5th Avenue.

I'm gonna cover my ears now to drown out your laughter. Have a good time at my expense cos I'm gonna get TW back on Senile Saturday.

Let me know by number which one you would like to see me model in the Easter parade.And again, try to keep your laughter to a low roar.

The Joy of Biting

Here's a little 8 second short showing how much I love to bite TW. I'm purring as I nom away. Believe me, the purring has nothing to do with the fact that Pop was just holding me and loving on me. It reflects my love of the flesh. That's Pop coughing at the end. Please ignore. He has to worm his way into all my videos.

If I would've been allowed on the computer yesterday, I could've told you about the SciFiPawty instead of having to include it in this post. You can't see me but I'm glaring at TW. We raised over $1700 for the kittehs at One By One Cat Rescue. We still need about $220 to reach the goal. You can still donate if your peeps have any extra green papers they won't miss. My set was a smash and I won an ultra cool pile o' kitteh toys from Ourpets brand. Looks like I'll be having some fun this summer. Check out the nip carrot and chili pepper and smousies! Woohoo!

My SciFiPawty loot!

SCIFIpawty is out of This World!

Today from 11 am to 11 pm is the 4th Annual SciFiPawty on Twitter that is organized by Boris Kitty to raise funds for One By One Cat Rescue in Kutztown, Pa, a no-kill, non-profit organization. I have to say, this is the most fun pawty of the year; one I personally look forward to. There's still time to jump on over to the TwitVite and RSVP to be entered to win a great prize. The hashtag is #SCIFIpawty and if you can't attend you can still donate here. If you're on Facebook, you can join the fun here.

Sneak peek at never used av.
This year Boris Kitty and his Humanz 2 have gone all out to make it even more fun. TW was getting the scoop last night. In addition, to the regular fun, there will be a celebrity panel discussion where you can ax questions from the Star Fleet Command and an auction on Ebay featuring some excellent memorabilia and autographed items from celebrities like Jane Wiedlin of the GoGos, Adrienne Barbeau and. You can also help the kitties by buying some cool SciFi Pawty merchandise.

For a sneak peak at some of the prizes you'll have a chance to win, check out their Pinterest page. There will be trivia questions to answer as well as door prizes for all us non-geeks. One of the prizes is an autographed hard-cover book from my Auntie Pauline, Pariah, which is #11 in the Star Commandos Series. You can read a review of it on This book is extra special cos it's out of print and is selling on Amazon for over $550! Hmmm, I'm gonna have to rethink this and sell it instead. MOL!  Just kidding, Aunt Pauline.

I will be spinning my fave tunes about UFOs, aliens and space travel. I've even added a couple since last year.

Come in your own fur or dress up. Boris also has a costume contest every year. You can see some of my costumes above. I don't usually enter since others are a lot more original than mine. I do it just for fun and to get into the spirit.

Flashback Friday with HHGutt

This blog post originally aired February 4, 2010 with 3 comments and is being repeated under protest of Cathy Keisha.

Buenos días! Me llamo Hernia Hernández Gutierrez but my amigos call me HHGutt. This is now my blog. I am the world's most stunning cat, even though I'm a mancat. I'm a tuxedo cat. Cathy Keisha is unavailable right now. I'm sure you are as happy as I am about that. Admit it, she's arrogant and over-bearing. I'm not. I'm sweet and charming.

At the computer typing this blog post

My family came across the border many years ago. I've worked as both a home health worker and a mouse catcher in a Mexican restaurant. I lost the first job after I couldn't show legal documentation. Do cats need documentation? Thank you Lou Dobbs.

CK's bed is so comfy. Yawn! Think I'll take a siesta.

Please come and visit me sometime. You are always welcome. I'm a nice cat, not like Cathy Keisha, who's in an undisclosed closet screaming her head off right now. Next, I will try to take over her Twitter account. See you there. Oopsy, Mom is home! Hasta luego amigos!

Wednesday Word of the Day–Betrayal

This little ghetto cat has come to talk about betrayal today. Who you may ax dares to betray Pope Keisha? The answer may surprise you.

Be honest, how many of you guessed that the Judas Iscariot in my condo is my Pop? No one! This is the story of how my Pop betrayed me.

The kiss.
You all know that TW had moved my tunnel into the hall after they put up the Christmas tree in December. You also remember what fun I had in that tunnel. TW used to joke that all roads led to the tunnel. I loved playing in the tunnel and running through it gave me much-needed exercise. I even made a wonderful movie in which I ended up in the tunnel. (Well, I thought it was wonderful but the Blogpaws people laughed and laughed because it wasn't all high tech and professional and crap. But that's another betrayal for another time.)

TW left my tunnel in the hall even after the Balsam moved on in January because I really liked it. Last week out of nowhere, Pop started griping and whining. Can you believe he said having the tunnel in the hall made me more aggressive? Do you believe he ordered it removed from the hall? Do you find it as hard to believe as I do? My Pop kisses me and then betrays me. MWAH! If he were Tony Soprano, I'd be whacked by now.

Now you see it …
now you don't and I want to know why.

It's always been open season on his ankles and feet when he passes me in the narrow hallway. It's nothing new. I'm afraid his size 10 ½'s are going to accidentally step on me so I'm proactive. I accidentally chomp down on his leg to remind him I'm standing here and he best not get too close. It's survival of the stunning. It has nothing to do with aggression or my beloved tunnel. Of course, the tunnel did make the narrow hall even narrower so I had to be even more proactive TW was as shocked as myself by the charges; but in the end, she gave in.

I miss my playtime in the hall. I'd look in the tunnel and TW would shine the smousy laser by the other end and I'd race through the tunnel to attack the laser. I'd chase it up and down the hall. Actually, that laser was the only one that should've complained that I was aggressive.

UPDATE: After Pop read my post today, he ordered my tunnel put back into the hall! Put another one in the Win column for CK! Way to go Pop!

The Eyes of March

Yes, you read that correctly. Not the Ides of March but the Eyes of March. This is what reportedly happened. I'll fill in what really happened if I have those facts available at press time. I don't know how I slept through all the excitement but I did. This is the story as it came across the AP.

TW was sound asleep on her side of the bed. When she sleeps, she brings the covers all the way up to her eyes because I a certain Mexican zombie cat named HHGutt attacks her during the night if any part of her is showing. [ED note: CK, you know it's you who attacks me.] One more remark like that Woman and I'm getting Pop to type this. He'll even draw blood through her nighties. Anyway, TW was all covered up while she slept when she awoke suddenly. Teeth were attached to her eyeball! My The lower jaw was on the bottom lid and my the top jaw on the upper lid. Some cat HHGutt was trying to pull her eyeball right out of the socket. She freaked and you know how scary that can be! She pried me him off and ran to the bathroom—muttering HBO words all the way—to see if the delicate skin was broken on her eyelid or if, Cod forbid, the actual eyeball was punctured. She said it hurt like a sonnamabitch, whatever that is.

Since she was up, she reluctantly gave me my breakfast since the attack took place at the exact time I usually get fed in the morning. At least Gutt got that right. I cannot imagine how such an attack could've taken place but I took the blame. TW said she had a headache for 2 days after that and I once again found myself sleeping with Pop. Can you believe that now when she does open her bedroom door, she's been sleeping with sunglasses on? She thought she was smart but not smart enough. A few days later, she awoke with a set of teeth clamped around her nose. Yep, this little ghetto kitteh again took the rap. If'n I had thumbs, HHGutt wouldn't be that smart cos he'd be making his way down the chute into the compacter room where all the garbage goes.

Erin Go Bragh

Roughly translated, Erin go Bragh means Ireland Forever. This is the one day of the year when we all get jiggy and become Leprechauns and the humans drink green beer. I've come up with a few leprechaun jokes for you. Enjoy.

Q: Why can't you borrow money from a leprechaun?
A: Because they're always a little short.

Q: Why don't you iron 4-Leaf clovers?
A: Because you don’t want to press your luck.

Q: Why does it take four Irishmen to change a lightbulb?
A: One to change the bulb. Four to remark about how grand the old bulb was.

Q: What's little and green and stuck to your bumper?
A: A leprechaun who didn't look both ways.

and finally,

Q: Why did St. Patrick drive all the snakes out of Ireland?
A: Because he couldn't afford plane fare.

Before you indulge in the green nip beer or the Bailey's Irish Cream Whiskey, please go to Mollie & Alfie's and vote CK for Pope. Poping is serious business and I'm the cat for the job. Need I remind you I know where how to use my Pope Stick.

The Dream Goes on Forever

On the third day, Keisha rests. All this popiness wore me out. Na mean? FYI, I didn't do that to the chair cushion. A certain Pop is very hard on chair cushions. Must be all the change in his pockets.

Oh come on! I'm the Pope! Can't you take a better picture than this?? Groan.

But before I rest, I have to grant my flock one more audience from the Penthouse of the ToP.

Whoa! I can see NYC from here! Score!

BTW, go on over to Mollie and Alfie later today and then go back on Sunday and vote for ME. The dream goes on forever. 

Wednesday Word of the Day—Pope

The white smoke has risen! Habemus papam! The fix vote is in! The College of Cattinals have reached a verdict.

Check out all this bling! Wonder if it's real … Betta not take it into da hood.

All Hail Pope Keisha I.

My first order of business is to move the Catican to New Jersey. If I'm Pope, I can live wherever I want. My next order of business is to change that stupid rule that the Pope can't have pets.

Here's a little video of how a Pope is chosen for those non-Catolics. I, being a stunning ghetto cat, bypassed all those steps in my ascension to Popehood. Thanks to Mr. Breeze (@Kittehboi) for Tweeting this video to me.

Whatchoo talkin' bout Woman?

Disclaimer: This blog post is rated R (HBO language, nudity)

TW's dad could be crass at times. He had an expression he used when TW or someone else couldn't make up their mind and was procrastinating. An off-color expression! Now TW is paraphrasing it to use on me and I don't like it a bit. In fact, I'm getting tired of hearing it. We're playing rockets or I'm hiding in the Tunnel of Love Bites stalking when suddenly TW will announce: "CK, shit or get out of the box!"

What the hay?? I wasn't IN the box, Woman! I was in my tunnel and you knew that and if someone is gonna dump in my tunnel, it's not gonna be me. Na mean? And if YOU choose to dump in my tunnel, you're gonna have to answer to both me AND Pop!! Capeesh?

I can't believe after all these years, TW doesn't know what the litter box is for. I guess that explains why she doesn't feel it's necessary to clean it.

And the nudity? It ain't happening. It was just a ruse to get you to read the blog post. BUT—if I get enough comments, you never know.

Saturday Photohunt—Monochrome

Some people think that monochrome has to be black & white or grayscale. If you truly know about color, you'll know that true black or registration black is made up of 100% of the 4 colors, CMYK—cyan, magenta, yellow and black. Enough art production lessons. If you want more, you're gonna have to pay green (mixture of cyan and yellow) papers for it.

It just so happens that TW's terrible photography tends to look better in monochrone. Since I'm a DJ, I've chosen to redo this cover by the band The Monochrome Set in shades of magenta.

The next example is grayscale.

And finally, this last example is only monochromatic because the online program I used said it is. It's actually a Pantone color so I guess technically it's only one color although if that color was processed, it'd probably be a mixture of CMYK. Still, it's a picture of me so it looks good any which way but blurry.

Whose Dish? MY Dish.

Last year at Thanksgiving the peeps had a nice sit down dinner with lots of dishes, I lept on the table and … and… what did I see? The olives and the store bought whole berry cranberry jelly were in identical dishes which I recognized instantly. They were MINE. They were cat dishes. I'd know them anywhere.

Lady cats and man cats of the jury–are those or are those NOT cat dishes???

The peeps tried to explain in that pathetic way of theirs that those dishes were my rejects that I refused to eat out of. I didn't like the shape of them and they were perfect for THEIR food. I beg your pardon?? You've crapped up MY dishes! Now I can never use them again. They were my favorites too. I was saving them for a special occasion! Didn't the paw prints on the side give you a clue they weren't YOURS? Didn't you see the CAT picture on the inside before you plopped that poison into them??


I'm traumatized! What else have they stolen of mine? Will I find my purr pad as a cushion on one of their chairs? What about my string? Will they use it as a shoelace??

Yep, my purr pad on the human's chair.

TW claimed that I never laid on my purr pad until she put it on one of their chairs. Will the lies ever stop? Will the peeps stop at nothing when it comes to annoying this little ghetto cat??

BTW, I'd just gotten FURminated before the bottom picture was taken. See how shiny my furs are?

Wednesday Word of the Day—Flashback

Since TW has been busy and ignoring The Cat's needs, which include blogging and visiting The Cat's furrends, I thought I'd publish a rerun from January 4, 2010, which got about 5 views at the time. I hope you like it cos I have a feeling more of these may be on the horizon.


Sunday at my house is laundry day. One thing I don't understand about laundry day is why, in 2010, The Woman sees the need to segregate the whites from the "colors" and isn't "colors" a derogatory word? (It feels good to finally get that off my chest.) Anyhow, this is a fun day for The Cat because first she gets to lay on the sheets while the peeps are trying to take them off the bed. They don't like that for some reason.

What they like even less is when I lay on Pop's clean—and very colorful—Old Navy boxers. Hey, these clothes are nice and clean and they're warm. What can be better than clean and warm for a cat looking for some place to sleep. Besides, if it's that important to you, you should put these right into the dresser.

After supper, TW finally put away the clean clothes in her closet. I rarely get to look into, let alone get into TW's closet. I jumped at the chance. Before you knew it, I was asleep and TW had gotten on the computer. Pop asked TW several times if she knew where I was and she didn't. (Cue the SINISTER MUSIC) Just where was Cathy Keisha and did anybody care?

Unbeknownst to the peeps, that dastardly HHGutt had locked Cathy Keisha in TW's closet. When I woke up, I started desperately scratching at the door to no avail. The tv was on and the peeps were otherwise occupied. I was losing hope that I'd ever be rescued. "You'll never get out. You'll die in there," taunted Guttierrez. I heard Pop asking about me again and then I heard him get up.

It was Pop to the rescue. He finally heard the scratching and rushed to open the closet door. I was free! Pop had once again saved me! He was once again my hero! Unfortunately, the peeps don't suspect a thing. They haven't a clue what my political enemy, HHGutt, did and that he was responsible for my being locked in the closet all evening. Pay back is a bitch; and, make no mistake about it, pay back will come for HHGutt. When he least expects it. He's now got a bulls eye on his back. You don't mess with this cat from the Hood.

Run Free Dear Furrends

Chica                                             Au                                             Brutus

As you know, I'm part of two online anipal communities: The Twitter Anipals and the Cat Blogosphere. This is both a blessing and a curse. The blessing being that both communities are loving and supportive. I—and others—can always count on their support and kind words when we need them. Each will go out of their way to help a friend in need or to mourn with a friend, which brings me to the curse part. Last weekend, I lost furrends in each community. Beautiful 22-year-old Chica of Cats of Wildcat Woods and handsome Au of Katz Tales of the CB went to the Rainbow Bridge; as did Twitter anipal captain of sekurity Brutus the Dane. Brutus was just featured in my post about the TV show Who Let the Dogs Out. He was also bass player for the Shibbering Cheetos virtual rock band. Our condolences to Moms Ellen, Cheryl and Heather and the rest of their families. Run free dear furrends. I know Brutus will safety escort Chica and Au cos he was that kind of gentleman.


As the peeps steel (verb) themselves for an uncertain future, which may not be as dire as previously predicted, enjoy a foto of Stunning Keisha in steel (noun). We'd like to thank all our friends in the CB and anipal community for the kind words. We"ll get by with a little help from our friends.

PS: Did you know my homey and maybe someday sisfur-in-law Maggie T. Kat, was named after the Steely Dan song "Peg"?