emo kitty

Emo Kitty and Friend

Yes, somehow Emo Kitty manages to have a friend. I don’t know how, since he’s so mopey and emo-y all the time.

No little fuzzy wuzzy kittens were ever in peril during the making of this picture. While my adult cat is emo, my kitten just happens to be a drama queen.


emo kitty

Hello Kitty has nothing on us!

Sometimes my cats piss me off. Like when I’m having an amazing dream and they are bouncing like ping pong balls across my bedroom and suddenly land on me, waking me up, just as I was about to sing on stage with musical idols.

So, when this happens, I get my revenge. I take embarassing pictures of them, add sassy taglines, and then post them on the facebooks and interwebs. It really pisses them off.

Hello Kitty?


Meet Emo Kitty.


That’ll learn ’em.

life lessons

I’m not oppositional; I’m just not going to do what you want me to do.

My intentions have been good: I have wanted to give you all a rip-roaring little funny piece of something, but as of late… things just haven’t been all that funny over here.

I mean, yes, there have been funny moments.  Hearing my son sing what his little 4 year old brain fathoms are the lyrics to current pop music – that’s been pretty funny.  Me paying for gas and then leaving without pumping – pretty funny by the next day, not so funny when it happened. But past all that, things have been a little groggy over here and I hate to admit that I have been a little punchy and even angry.  And I’ve been quite verbal about it all.

I’m guessing it is the meds.  In December, due to all the extra pain of my surprise bulging discs, my bullshit tolerance dropped to zero.  Things weren’t that much different, though, because I still kept most of it inside.  Now my filter has dropped to zero, and the world is suddenly a very different place.

This person kept interrupting me and cutting me off over the phone.  They are known to do this and it really pisses me off but rarely do I say anything because he is kind of my family court lawyer.  This time, however, from the moment I thought “I am going off on his ass” to the moment my mouth was running like you pulled the rip cord on a chainsaw was about… a nanosecond.

And it scared me.

And then it felt awesome.

I’ve been living my life, for so long, in fear of “being good or else”.  Or else what?  Exactly… I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to fnd out.  Now I know – or else you are a bitch.  Well la-de-freakin-da. I’m a bitch.  Gimmie my gold star NOW.

It used to be difficut for me to say no, to speak up for myself, to do what only I wanted to do not because I didn’t think I could, but because I didn’t want to make a big deal of things.  I wanted to be seen as agreeable and helpful because that would make people like me, be nice to me, and never treat me unfairly.  :::meds are making me roll my eyes right now:::  I am a very lax, go with the flow, kinda gal by natue.  I don’t want to make waves… except that now I kind of do.

My friend and I were talking about how this new side effect is probably really good for me.  Considering all the other side effects it gives me that are totally useless like a numb mouth and nose, uncoordination, extreme forgetfulness, and the feeling of being high AT THE SAME DAMN TIME (like a boss!), I do feel deserving of at least one super-hero side effect.

:::grabs evildoer by the shirt and pulls him up close to my face, starts talking in husky Batman voice:::

I want you to tell your friends about me.  I. Am. Bitchasaurus Rex.

Maybe not?

Super-hero or no, I am thankful for the loss of my filter.  Everyone else might not be, but, for once I’m not living to make their lives easier; I’m living to make mine easier.

My new motto?  Cause no harm whenever possible… but when need be, rip a new bunghole with your Bitchasaurus Rex teeth.

… because you can’t use your Bitchasaurus Rex arms since they are so damn tiny.

Bitchasaurus Rex has entered the mutherfuggin building.

Rar. (: