Catwatch Day Two: The Clawing

Ok, it was really the third day, and I didn't blog about the first two. Whatever! The cat, Elliot, was actually glad to see me today. He was waiting by the door, which is normal, but he seemed, I don't know, less angry that it was me than usual. He was so starved for attention, he even let me pet him for nearly five minutes before starting to bite. He doesn't seem to have eaten much, perhaps his owner radically overfilled the bowl because he thought I might space out on it? Well, I didn't. After CN reminded me, I was so there. A, you might want to check when you get back, Elliot had that guilty-cat look about him. He might have pooped in your room, or maybe ordered The Amityville Horror eleven times on pay per view . You can never tell with cats. Also, he was probably the one who set that fire and rummaged through the hall closet. The smoke damage was minimal, nothing to get all upset about or sue. I'll say this about that cat: he can throw a kickass party. That's cool, right? I know, the old joke about throwing a party at A's place, yada yada yada... but those Hell's Angels weren't joking about leaving the meth lab alone, ok? No touchy. Sometimes it happens, you (meaning the cat) invite a few people over, they tell a few other people, so on & so forth, all of a sudden you (meaning the cat) owe $20,000 to the Stearns County Mafia, and then the cops are all like, 'Oh, you're contributing to the delinquency of a minor'? That is such bullshit. And Elliot probably got that fat lip in a fistfight with St. Cloud superman, but neither of them would talk about it much, so, you know.