Friday Cat Blogging: Roof Rusted Edition

Pretty Princess Drusy cannot let a goblet of water go un-gobbed. We must share! It's like a Greek wedding with somewhat fewer assaults around here! Thus, at Casa Rococo, we've gone unbreakable - though just this morning an unwary ancestral demitasse cup took a header off the sideboard while lovely Topaz said, "Who, me?" The demitasse cup miraculously survived its swan dive with but a mild splash and the carpet rippled coyly. I blame the East German judge, who remains annoyed that she's an anachronism.

What, your cat doesn't play with her trebuchet?

We're packing and moving my things a little at a time. My landlord seems to know this, since no new lease arrived last month for me to fret over and send back. It seems symbolic, but I'm not sure how. If there's nothing to worry over I shouldn't worry, right? But with my landlord it's not like that and I keep waiting for another shoe to drop. I could save myself some worry, I guess, by packing and moving my shoes.

Making lovey-dovey, not war, Madame Topaz blinks her eyes slowly, which cat afficionados assure us is the kitty version of blowing kisses. Wherever Pete sits, Topaz's lavish lip-prints fly by and stick to the wall. As you can see from this glamorous shot, Topaz has white lips. I'd buy her white patent leather go-go boots to work this look but she doesn't have the legs for it. Which I'm not going to tell her. Noooo. I tell her I'm still catalog-shopping for just the right pair.