Category Archives: Uncategorized

Virtual Killers Anonymous Help Desk

I promised earlier to tell you about some of the fun new comments I got on very old posts.  People continue to comment on my post from 2013 about killing virtual people.  This might be because it comes up anytime someone looks for the search terms “How do I kill my virtual people?”.  It pops up on the first page, last I checked.  Thanks, Google, though really, has no one else thought of writing about this?  Just me, huh?  Ah, well, I am certainly not the first one to think of doing it, judging by the response I have had.  I’ll give you a link to it on the off chance you weren’t here in 2013.

There were actually comments on a couple of other posts too, but as I was looking over “Hi, my name is Alice and I kill tiny virtual people“, I realized there were several comments I hadn’t answered both against and – sometimes scarily – in support of my treatment of pretend people.  So I gathered them all up here in my heart and then smacked them onto this here post.

First are the ones who are very upset with me over the post.  I may have reported these guys before, but I figure it I can’t remember it, neither can you.

I hope this person liked my response.

I hope this person liked my response.

What I love most about this irate comment, besides the fact that it came two years later, is how upset this person is that I gave incorrect information on my blog.  I’m really not an educational blog, unless you ask my spambots, who highly recommend me to other spambots.  And I’m sorry, Lisa who happens to have no blog like most of these comments, if they didn’t want me to use the red punishment glove, they really shouldn’t have given it to me, should they?  Case closed.

I like being mean.

I like being mean.

Come on, Alaska, there’s no need to get touchy just because you aren’t actually a real state.  I play the game because it lets me slap people over and over, which is usually frowned upon outside of the game.  And there are just some people who need it.  Also, you should consider forgiveness, because my little pretend man forgave me as soon as I bought him some bread.  And I’d locked him in the nuclear room for a week.

I'd better get to confession. The priest will find this one interesting.

I’d better get to confession. The priest will find this one interesting.

Then there are the ones who support me . . . maybe just a little too much.

Um. Sure?

Um. Sure?

Happy to be helpful and all.  Just one of my many acts of public service there.

alice2

???

I’m not sure how this person was burning the virtual woman. I didn’t realize this was an option in this game.  The Sims, sure, but this one?   Also this is not the place to find out if something is normal, Dee.  Sorry.

Okay?

Okay?

You don’t have to answer comments if your readers do it for you.  But this one goes on for a while even after this screen shot.  I sort of . . . left it alone.

Finally, my favorite.

What?

What?

First off, I love how this literally turned into a Crazy Computer Gamers Anonymous group.  Second, what is the person responding meaning?  If they go peacefully?  Can you arrest the virtual people now, cause I didn’t realize you could.  That adds a new layer of fun.  Or maybe K.A.R meant that the people kept dying – peacefully? – on their own before she / he could kill them?  I just don’t know, but it continues to perplex me.

That’s all I have for now.  Come back later and I’ll show you how I insulted Jesus and screwed up the plot of Sophia the First.  Also Trump voodoo dolls.

Alice

You Can Learn a Lot from Trump

First off, a quick thank ye to all those who are still following and maybe even reading me, and those who just started following, liking, commenting, etc.  I even thank you weirdos who left me the bizarrely critical comments cause gosh you’re fun.  I haven’t been writing as much, but I’m hoping to pick up on this because the counselor says it’s good to get out my Alice Rage in other ways than, say, strangling a coworker because MY GAWD he is STILL slamming the stapler from what seems like a distance of 10 feet so that it goes KABAMMMM and I jump out of my seat.  #bekindtostaplers

How am I supposed to concentrate on facebook when he's making noise?

How am I supposed to concentrate on work when he’s making noise?

I just had a relaxy moment. Back now!  Yes, now that I’m relaxed I should discuss what’s happened so far in my world.  I got knocked down, but I got up again, you ain’t never gonna keep me down so give me some booze and I will piss the night away.  Or something.  And in world news, our new president continues to do in just a few weeks what it took a couple of years for George W. Bush to do – make every country hate us.  He’s been all crank calling foreign leaders askin them what his job is, puttin’ em on notice, threatening war – what a hoot.  He even picked on Australia.  You know – all those Australian terrorists with their suicide bomber kangaroos.  No one ever sees that coming.

I kind of wish President Cheeto would quit doing that.  You know – talking. And tweeting.  And – making that face, just stop, stop now. But there is one thing I have to give Trump – he’s making people learn more about government right along with him. For instance, presidential cabinet positions keep getting filled, and for the first time people are caring because we’re wondering if he will literally put a Schnauzer (as long as it’s rich and white)  in one of the seats.  We just got a Secretary of Education who knows nothing about children, public schools or, uh, education since she failed her exam massively during try-outs.

Not sure who made this but thanks, Internet!

Not sure who made this but thanks, Internet!  Clearly the top person for the job!

I first learned about this via my regular news: comedy shows, but I wanted to learn more so I actually watched the real clips.  Bernie Sanders, Al Franken, Tim Kaine (remember him?  Hillary’s VP pick?  He’s actually pretty good), and Elizabeth Warren just bullied poor Betsy with crazy questions like are you for equal education for all, or did your family donate a few hundred million dollars to the Republican party, or what’s a school?   “I’ll study that!” she says, which is probably the first time she’s promised to study anything at all.  Al Franken said “I’m surprised – no actually I’m not,” which was absolutely hilarious totally out of line!  I might have watched the clips of them torturing her several times on youtube.  Education can be fun!

We also learned that banning a huge group of people from coming to our country (no matter how legal they are) based only on religion and nationality is ding ding ding against the constitution!  And federal judges – we have those! – have blocked it, for now.  We learned more about executive orders, like how a big wad of bacteria can sneak himself onto the nations’ security council by just slipping that in along with something else stupid, like building a wall to keep people of another nationality out because they are all bad hombres who sell drugs and rape and murder people.

Also we got educated that there is no such thing as terrorism by white people. I am so relieved.

Soon I’m sure we’ll learn more about foreign relations by going to war with them, as we have with past presidents, only this time it won’t take as long.  This learning is hurting my brain, and I’m exhausted already, and we aren’t through the first month yet.  And it’s not just us.  Other countries are also getting tired of all this education.  So I have a solution.  We move, but not to Canada (I’m sure you guys are next on the terrorist watch list, hide yo wives, hide yo kids).  No, we’re going to Nanalan, a place Thing Two introduced me to, and which we have had endless fun with, in spite of this show supposedly just being for children.  It acts as a kind of natural tranquilizer, like Bob Ross, only with puppets.  Take a look!

But wait, there’s more.  Like there’s an adventure with “a Lolly”!   I’ll show you in other posts.  Yes, we have no idea what Yoda’s love child here is saying, though props to the person for attempting to translate, but words no longer make sense in the real world either, so why here?  I’ll be with puppets eating peepos if you need me.

P.S. I have been very bad about going through my reader – it takes too much from my tiny hamster brain.  So if you will leave me links to you recent posts right here, I’ll read them and try to catch up.  Peepo.

Alice

 

A post

It has been raining here in Texas for the last three days.  A hard, steady rain that just keeps going, making marshland of my yard, making the days dark.  This part of Texas is not supposed to have rain like this.  We are semi-arid, which means desert plus occasional flash floods and tornadoes.  No wonder the people at Seattle Grace Hospital have so many problems.  The rain.  Rain killed McDreamy.

I mention to my Thing One, “There are more suicides in Seattle than Alaska.  Cause snow reflects light and rain doesn’t.  Fun fact!”

Thing One: I’m getting you some sugar, Mom.

I’m not suicidal.  I’m just here.  I have ups and downs.  Right now it is down.  I wish it would stop raining.  I don’t like going out in it.  But I need a soda.  It’s not crack, okay, I just want it?  Sorry, I thought you were my doctor there.  I put on my coat and boots and wade to my car while the rain pours down.  I get in and sit in the car for a moment while it runs.  I finally get out of park.

I try McDonald’s cause you don’t have to get out of the car.  They seem mysteriously closed.  Is it the storm?  Did they all quit at once?  Whatever it is inconvenient for me. I drive back to Allsups which is closer to my house but I now must walk in.  I am wearing the clothes I wore two days ago.  Plus a sweater I washed with pink so now it is white-ish pink.  Call me Hello Kitty.

I walk in.  I get a soda on sale, the TALLSUP, get it?  Cause it’s big.  And I choose Sprite not cause I like it that much but because it’s late and maybe without the caffeine I might sleep though I doubt it cause naps.  But then I think I would like some water. Cold water. I will spoil myself with cold water.  I walk over and look at the water.  There are lots of kinds of water that probably come out of the tap.  I stare.  And stare.  And choose one.

I walk to the snacks.  I wonder if the lady at the cash register is watching me.  I look awesome.  It’s been a while since I washed my hair, and I scratch my head since one of the kids came home with lice a couple months ago.  Christmas Special coming up. Lice and Other Holiday Tales.  I go to the counter.  The lady is bald, totally bald, no stubble like that chick who sang “Nothing compares to youuuuu.”  I wonder if she has Cancer or is purposely bald.  She asks me if I am having a good day.  Did she sound concerned?

I say, “Yeah.”

Live From the Blanket Fort: Of Dancing Spoons and Disappointed Napkins

Yes, it’s me. I’m still here. And this – this is still happening. But don’t worry, for I am not scared. No, I don’t have tickets to Canada to live with their free health care and hottie Prime Minister, importance not necessarily in that order. But I have protection. Witness the aforementioned blanket fort.

My bunker.

My bunker.

Notice that it is stocked with all needed provisions for the next four years.  I have a bottle of cola, pop tarts, microwave popcorn, pillows, blankets, Disney movies, and animal familiars for possible future witchcraft.  Thanks to Thing Two for her assistance with my safe house here.  Thing one was busy at the high school musical, Beauty and the Beast. She was the star.  She played a spoon.  I think there was some chick named Belle in there too.

More on that later.

I had to pick her up, and the fort was still there, and my husband was due home from church.  So I called him and explained that there was a blanket fort in the living room.  It went like this.

Me: Hi, honey, there’s a blanket fort in the living room.

Husband: A what?

Me: A blanket fort.  I have to go pick up Thing One, but we’ll clean it up later.

Husband: A blanket floor?

Me: There’s a mess in the living room.  Be back soon!

So I got my daughter from her very last performance.  I think you need to understand exactly what these costumes are like.  As soon as I get some pictures back (I didn’t have my camera with me of course) I will post them (with her lovely face blanked out) because you have to see this thing.  Think giant, thick, board (real board not that cardboard stuff) made in the shape of a spoon, strapped to her back in several places, with the spoon head sticking out far over her head.  She danced in this thing.  I can’t even imagine.  On the plus side, her posture should be great now.

And I have to say, I enjoyed the play immensely.  Now this may be a surprise, but I sort of like Disney, especially this particular movie.  And the Broadway version is way better.  But I had my doubts as these were high school kids who dealt with a change in directors in the very middle of a musical that involves a heavy amount of dancing and singing in big numbers because this is Disney and they do everything on speed.

Yet they surprised me, to my delight.  Everything was fabulous.  Gaston was short, but they even put in jokes about that.  At one point his wig was knocked partly off – he tossed it back on and kept going.  I missed the second performance when the beast lost his wig after being stabbed by Gaston, and Belle fell upon him in despair, and probably to cover up the wig mishap while the kids backstage stifled laughter.  But honestly, mostly this was a grade A performance. Belle was incredible. The Beast was incredible.  The whole cast was amazing and the story and sets fabulous.

I was informed by Thing Two that the sister of a friend came close to playing the part of Belle, but did not get it because “Miss Perfect” did (can’t fault her there, that girl can sing, dance, act, and she’s pretty – some people hit the genetic lottery).  Anyway, the poor girl had to become a napkin.

“You can tell which one she is,” Thing Two explained.  “She’s the most disappointed looking dancing napkin out there.”

I, however, was transfixed through the whole thing, even when my spoon wasn’t on stage.  My husband, brave man that he is, shifted a lot in his seat.  Father of the Year for sitting through not one but two of these three-hour performances.

But I guess this brings me back to how it is the arts that can bring us away from where we are, no matter how horrible we feel that place is.  For three hours, I forgot about the election, about the problems in the world, about everything else.  I was in another world, and I laughed, and I cried, at every bit of it. But when my daughter, my spoon, came out on stage for her numbers, afterward I clapped so hard with pride that my hands hurt.

This is what will get us through.  Writing, humor (sometimes through choked back bile), books, movies . . . and of course, a blanket fort for protection.  Here I am, watching from my fort.

Yes, I am an adult.

Yes, I am an adult.

I may look a bit like Snoopy from the Red Baron mixed up with Ferris from his day off, but I’m still here, darn it. I may be reporting on events from this location for a while. Probably not political events because I am still in the denial stage of grief where I pretend “The Happening” never occurred. But still reporting. Never give up, never surrender.

Never forget pop tarts and coke while hiding in your blanket fort.

~ Alice

Pokemon, Smart Phones, and the Rime of the Ancient Librarian

I think I mentioned before that I was one of the last hold outs on the whole “smart phone” thing.  I have a cell phone, but it just makes calls and texts.  The fact that I can text puts me above, say, my parents, but that’s about it.  Otherwise I am left in the dust.  Get out of the way, you stupid cars, my buggy has just as much right to be here as you do.

It’s strange to think that it wasn’t all that long ago (for someone who is like farthead 40) that we didn’t even have the things.  Can you remember what that was like?  I can.  It was such a total pain.  Like you had to go inside a building, or to a phone booth, and call someone if you needed something.  I’m pretty sure even homeless people have smart phones at this point, and they are only on the street corner to catch a Pokemon*.  But not me.  I didn’t even get my “dumb phone” until I was pregnant with crazy baby (Thing Two) .  I was at a point where it would not have been at all odd for me to suddenly burst into flames and have the doctors call it “just another wacky pregnancy thing”.  So I wanted a phone in case of baby emergency, and we weren’t even close to labor yet.

My current phone

My current phone

I think most people started that way.  I need a phone for emergencies.  Also to talk to my mom.  And keep tabs on my boyfriend.  And crush candy and pretend farm and catch imaginary monsters.  It’s IMPORTANT.  Heck with you, Superman, who now has to run inside a J.C. Penny’s to change thanks to us getting rid of the phone booths; we need our phones.  Why?  Because everyone else needs them, and the world goes along with everyone else.  It’s like everyone else is on cocaine, and I better get drugs fast, or I am never gonna fit into this world at all.

Are they even called smart phones anymore?  This is how out of touch I am.

Wait.  This is exactly what happened in Wonderland – you gotta be stoned to fit in.  Well, I guess we crossed that bridge with the presidential election a long time ago, so whatever.  My kids are some of the last kids not to have smart phones.  What is a good age to get a kid one of these phones?  I’ve seen toddlers with them, because you never know when little Jaxxon will need to make an urgent phone call.  “Juuuuice!” is something I so often hear them scream into their phones.  Or text with their pudgy fingers.  But seriously, no, it’s the educational games on the phones they like.  Because “Peek-a-Boo” takes up way too much time, and uses your hands, and now our wrists hurt from carpal tunnel.  But please give it back because Mommy has stuff to do.  Her crops are wilting, her boss has more Pokemon power-ups than she does, and Daddy is not going to stalk himself.

Crap I just lost all my data!

Crap I just lost all my data! Darn kids.

I don’t know what a Pokemon power-up is and I don’t want to know.

What’s this about stalking?  Oh, that’s a fun thing I learned from a 20-something co-worker a while back.  “See,” she said happily.  “I can tell where everyone I know is right now.  Here is my boyfriend at work.  Here’s mom at the grocery store.  Here’s all 72 of my best friends at the mall.”  I found this a little disconcerting.  “What if you don’t want someone to know where you are 24/7?” I asked.  She looked at me with a face that clearly did not comprehend the question.  Of COURSE you would want to know where everyone was all the time.  I told my husband about this feature.  He said if we ever get smart phones, he is tossing his in a truck going cross country.  I don’t blame him.

Yet I can only hold out so much longer because the world changes to fit our technology.  My kids are actually expected to have it and bring it to school for “Share your technology day” where they use their own expensive electronic devices instead of the school supplying them, and if these devices should be lost or stolen, the school is in no way responsible please sign here.

It’s not just phones, though, it’s technology period that is going haywire (pun intended).  Phones are just mini computers now, even smaller than the NUC on my desk.  That’s NUC not Nuke, though it certainly sounds like I have a rather dangerous bomb on my desk, but believe me it’s not even half as useful.  See at work they took away our computer towers and gave us these tiny boxes that have like one whole usb port in them for you to plug your stuff in, which certainly beats the towers which had a CD drive, several usb ports, and acted as a nice shelf for my office mate and me.  We were not impressed with these new boxes.  Yeah, they were smaller, but with one port you had to get another thingy to plug into it that is a square thing with 4 ports on in, so you can actually plug more than one thing in it at a time.  If you want me to explain what a usb port is, you are worse off than I am, but not by much.  All I know is it’s like an outlet.  I’m not even totally versed on how electricity works, except that you plug something in and ‘bing’ a light comes on.  It could be fairies coming through the wires for all I know (or care).

We no longer have monitors this large, but we are still just as stoned as these kids.

We no longer have monitors this large, but we are still just as stoned as these kids.

I don’t adjust well to new things, especially technology.  I refused to learn that wild mp3 thing until my husband bought one for me and showed me how and then I really liked this little thing I could store my music on.  Except now mp3 players, like the Sony Walkman cassettes and CDs, are so old that my snobby computer refuses to recognize the software. Seriously, it just totally ignores it, like, you are so not worth my time.  Why?  Because you can get that on your phone.  Along with a camera, a GPS, a best friend (hi Siri), and God only knows what else.  Why do my devices have to multitask?  I don’t expect my dryer to also take selfies and cook me a mean pot roast.  It dries clothes. That’s it.  But the computer at your fingertips does everything.  You can pay bills on the phone.  You can also check out books.

It should be known that I did not start using the library computer catalog until they removed the physical card catalog – the one with all the cards in it.  And I was one of them “Youngins” then.

If you don't remember what this is, I hate you.

If you don’t remember what this is, I hate you.

Yet you have to eventually give in just to keep up in this world.  I don’t want to be the only one not getting mugged in alleys or falling off cliffs while chasing pretend monsters.  So I guess I’ll have to get the smart phone.  And update my computer.  You know.  Eventually.

When they take away my pay-by-the-month dumb phone, most likely.

~Alice

*I so did not use Pokemon in the title just to get more hits.  Okay, I did.

 

Merry and Alice talk Cockle-Bread

Merry and I discuss an bizarre old medieval tradition

That Retro Blog

The other day, Merry and I were chatting and she sent me a link cause we like to share philosophical ideas and shit.  And this link was from Cracked.com.  And we were INSPIRED.  Check it out right here.  In case you’re wondering which X-rated tradition really caught our eye, it was the bread women made with their vaginas.  Of course it was. You didn’t read the article did you? We are NOT making this crap up.  Cracked did it’s research (unlike most news media) and here is what they found from, no kidding, the Oxford freaking Index which is from like OXFORD, guys.

oxford indexAnyone else feel like some bread right now?

Yeah, that’s right.  Women would mold bread dough with their va-jay-jays and butts and then bake it.  And here Miley Cyrus thinks she’s innovative.  Not only would these women do bizarre things with their grain products, they would…

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Tips for Clutter!

Clutter is big right now.  Or more specifically, decluttering which is not, according to WordPress,  a real word.  This should be a clue right there.  I have tried to get rid of clutter, to no avail.  (Once I tried for like 15 minutes). It seems like everyone has some tips on removing clutter, but has anyone come up with tips on how to use clutter?  I don’t know, I haven’t researched, but I’m going to guess “No.”  Well now they, er, I have!

A picture of my house.

A picture of my house.

Tips for Using Clutter

  1. Piled laundry (dirty or clean) makes a great cushion for your couch.  If you put it in your car, it can be used as a booster seat.
  2. Trash can be used as art.  Call it “Shabby Chic”.
  3. Time spent searching for lost items counts as exercise.
  4. By not washing your dishes or cleaning your refrigerator, you can grow your own medicine.
  5. Clutter can be used as a blockade in case of home invasion.  Seriously, police told us at the library that our clutter could help block an active shooter.  Yay us!
  6. Books on decluttering make great side tables.
  7. “What’s that smell?” is a fun and entertaining game for the whole family.
  8. By gathering up loads of random stuff, you can make your own ball pit for the kids.
  9. Piling things on top of your exercise machine keeps you from feeling guilty for not using it by blinding you to its presence.
  10. You life is full of surprises.  What’s in that cabinet?  Is it alive?  Who knows!

So there you go!  Lots of reasons not to remove clutter.  If you still insist on getting rid of it, I have one great tip.  Wait for the holiday season and throw all your clutter into those huge Christmas bags meant for bicycles and such.  Then put a sign in front of your house saying “Rob Me.”

Anyone else have creative ideas for clutter?

~ Alice

The 40 Club

While I mourn my 30s, read this little bit about turning 40 that she wrote just for me. 😀

Knocked Over By A Feather

Guess who’s joining the ranks of the 40 Club today?

Alice!! That’s who!!

40Don’t make fun of my meme, I was in a hurry.

I called her early this morning to sing happy birthday (sorry about that, dear.)

And now, because turning 40 is such a great and wonderful thing (not really) I am going to do a short post on how to tell you are now officially middle-aged.

Pay attention Alice, this is important information.

  • That popping sound coming from your knee? Yeah, that’s normal.
  • Music may start to become way too loud for you and you’ll find yourself reaching to turn it down because old.
  • Young people will completely befuddle the fuck out of you.

millennialsSay Snapchat!

  • You’ll experience total face-palm moments when you realize that 80’s music is now considered classic rock.
  • The cashier at the store is now calling you ma’am (or sir.)
  • Starting a…

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Broken, but still good

My friend Merry wrote this when I couldn’t. Please read.

Knocked Over By A Feather

I was chatting with my amazing friend Alice yesterday, as we usually do on a mostly daily basis. I never dreamed that blogging would gift me with another best friend to add to my short list of the two other people who have qualified as “best friend” material in my 40 some years on this planet.

Let’s face it, not everyone we meet is destined to be a real friend, someone who needs you as much as you need them to get through this thing called life. My mom told me years ago that if you have one good friend, you’re lucky.

I think that I must be extra lucky.

Someday I will find a way to fly to Texas so that I can give her a hug and we will laugh and cry together.

“Did you ever see the movie “Lilo and Stitch?” she asked.

I said yes, of…

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Everyone should want to be a cat (No Politics Were Featured in this Post)

In light of recent events (like everything), I have made a monumental decision.  I have decided to leave the human race.

I’m going to become a house cat.  Note I am referring to “house” cats here, as in cats who don’t have to work the streets and stuff.  How?  I have a plan for it and everything.  No need for you to know it.

We're switchin' places, you freak.

We’re switchin’ places, you freak.

Why?  Simple.  I’ve got a list.

1 Cats aren’t worried about human stuff like bills, the “P” word, bombs, Justin Bieber, or food.  All they need is supplied for them by the human.  If the human is slow, you only need to rub its leg or lay on the floor showing your belly.  I have tried this as a human to get my husband to fix supper for me, but it was ineffective.

Seriously, I'm starrrrving.

Seriously, I’m starrrrving.

2 Cats don’t have spouses, and they kick their kids out as soon as they can sort of see and walk.  They don’t even have to potty-train them.

Pack your things, you've wasted enough resources!

Pack your things, you’ve wasted enough resources!

3 Cats don’t have to go to work.  Their job involves looking cute until fed, then ignoring everyone around them.  This is sometimes allowed at work meetings, but otherwise they expect you to actually produce something.  Eventually.

Darn it, tricked to another meeting by donuts!

Darn it, tricked to another meeting by donuts!

75 percent of shows on the Internet are about cats.  They never run out of programming.  They can even become stars simply by looking grumpy.  I have yet to be paid for this, yet I do it very well.

I make more money than you do. Bwahahahaha.

I make more money than you do. Bwahahahaha.

5  Cats are allowed to sleep 16 hours a day and no one calls them lazy.  They can even curl up and sleep in someone’s lap.  This is often frowned upon if you are a human, especially if you are not related in some way to the lap.

Lazy if human. Normal if cat.

Lazy if human. Normal if cat.

6  Cats can do whatever they want.  If they want to stick their butt in your face, they can do it.  If they want to stomp on your keyboard, they can do it.  If they want to pee on your laundry, they can do it.  Try doing this as a human, and see how well it works.

These moves are much cuter on a cat than a human.

These moves are much cuter on a cat than a human.

7  No chores for cats.  The human will clean mess up for you, even the toilet.  All that hair you shed on a regular basis?  The human.  You don’t even have to thank them, or acknowledge their existence.  Like children and spouses in a typical human family.

Haha, pick up my poops, human!

Haha, pick up my poops, human!

8  You never need to take a shower, cause you have a tongue for that!  That sort of behavior might land you in a mental hospital as a human, but is totally normal for a cat. (I’m not sure I would like this one as much, unless I was a cat.  Then who cares?  Look at my butt!)

If yoga is acceptable, why not?

If yoga is acceptable, why not?

9  Cats can just zip off any time they want, and not return for hours, and no one questions it.  The last time I tried this, the people at work were super annoyed at me.

Look I had a two hour bathroom break, 'kay?

Look I had a two hour bathroom break, ‘kay?

10  Cats don’t have to worry about the rest of the world, because they have already peed on their part of it to make sure it’s secure.  Humans could solve so many problems this way, if they just stuck to their own porches and litter boxes.

Message to the human race.

Message to the human race.

And that is why I want to be a house cat.  I’ll let you know how it works out.  Or not, because if I succeed, I will no longer care.  I’ll be eatin’ my vittles in front of the computer until I fall asleep in someone’s lap.  That is the life.

Alice