Apurrcalypse now

May 30, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 5 Comments

File under ‘C’ for ‘cat’

May 14, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 9 Comments

Mia gets her drawers on — Miss Mia Sopaipilla doesn't care whether you open a drawer or a door — she'll happily get into the one or go through the other.

Smackdown

May 10, 2011May 10, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 5 Comments

In which one of the Tiny Hat Size folks gets his comeuppance. Pow! Zoom! To the moon! If only we could do likewise to all such*, what a wonderful world it would be.

* And no, I’m not talking about beating the Little Friskies out of itty-bitty kitties. You know who I’m talking about. The dildos who dangle tea bags from their itty-bitty Revolutionary War hats. Thanks to Ornery Bastard for unearthing the feline fisticuffs.

He’s white, but not quite right

March 8, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 11 Comments

Shoes for industry! — You can't be charged with littering if there's no litter in the box. That's the Turk's story, and he's sticking to it.

In our latest episode of Guerrilla Theatre (Feline Overlords Edition), Field Marshal Turkish von Turkenstein demonstrates the Republican technique for thinking outside the box. Stare to the hard right long enough and something is bound to come to you. (Hint: It used to smell like half-baked Alaska, but now it’s more like an Easy-Bake Oven Mitt.)

Pimps up, hos down

February 21, 2011February 21, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 30 Comments

Today, Turkish (a.k.a. Turkenstein, The Turkinator, Mighty Whitey, Big Pussy, et al.) and Miss Mia Sopaipilla present a bit of guerrilla theater illustrating the two-tiered system being forced upon us by the oligarchs.

The Turk’ represents the moneyed elites (fat, white, enjoying the view from the penthouse) while Mia portrays the downtrodden proletariat (of color, hunkered down in the shabby basement of the economy, yearning for the bright light of freedom from oppression).

Now and then the Turk’ reaches down and gives her a swat, just ’cause he can. She puts up with it for a while, then casts off her chains, pins back her ears and chases the big capitalist bastard round and round the house until he accedes to her demands for equal access to the litter box, the occasional half-sardine and the Tower of Meower, which is to be designated The Turkintower or Mia Mountain depending upon which of them is in residence at the time.

At no point does the deficit come up for discussion.