“But at what cost?”

oh, hi. 

I have been verrah bizy, as you know, what with spring gardening and all.  

Every time the Humans here dig a hole in the yard, they find worms and grubs,  which catch the eye of birdies, who, in turn,  trigger ancient prey instincts in certain Stunningly Stealthy Huntresses, which, for some reason, makes Ms. Whatsername squeal Blue Bloody Murder  (a thoughtless distraction, you can imagine, especially when one is in mid-pounce), so after an exciting, feather-filled fraction of a second, only the damn worm is happy and going back to his biziness and the rest of us need a strong drink. 

As I have alluded to in teh past, Mrs. W. has a bad habit of blundering into the wrong place at the wrong time, igniting Cascades of Unintended Consequences, like she do, and so I post teh following educational video in teh hopes she’ll learn a thing or two.  Hope springs eternal.  Much like grubs.

Anyway, wish me lucks.

fank! to Sam Shirely  and Monty Python’s Flying Circus  for this useful Public Service Announcement.

Snooze-time with Suzie Moonbeam

oh! Pardon moi.  sorry to yawn in yer face like that …I’m just settling in for tonight’s adventure.

NOT the normal, evaday, daytime adventure, of course.  Not like today, when I sprinted, panther-like, all the way up a tree and leapt, ninja-like, onto the roof, and then meowed, pitiful-like, until the neighbors called Teh Authorities.  Then, while Mrs. Whatsername  crawled out a tiny dormer window wif an open can of tuna – I hopped back down the tree and on to the patio, skillfully knocking over potted herbs while I searched for a comfy spot to take a baff…until I remembered that I had, earlier that day, cut a hole in the kitchen screen window with my delicate little claw and so was able to saunter back inside and ask, very polite-like, for teh can of tuna.

So, like I said, no. Nothing so mundane as that.  Time now for some real excitement.

Because tonight, for some reason, I am locked inside.  There is sloppy, heavy-handed slab of duct tape where my intricately-cut screen hole used to be .  But that’s okay, because  I have a new adventure.  Right now, I’m on the bed, all snuggled in tight, ready for a Beguiling Beddy-bye Story from the Reigning Monarch of REM Sleep – The Emerald-Eyed Empress of Snooze-ville –

Suzie Moonbeam!

(for those of you unawares – Suzie is the cat who has lived upstairs ever since I came to live here.  She is an Ancient Tuxedo Kitteh – 13 entire years old, and Classy, as well as Wise.  While she may not look like much other than a Penguin impersonating a Bowling Pin – she does, in fact, have an Amazing Superpower.  Suzie can sleep All. Day. Long.  I’ve clocked her at 23 3/4 hours, at a stretch, which must be some kind of record.  Also, she can put everyone else to sleep.  She’s like an Insomnia Atom Bomb.  Mrs. W. has tried to read the same paragraph in a book for YEARS, but with Suzie in her face, purring in her full-0n Hypno-Kitteh style, sending her off to La-La Land to ride the Good Ship Somni-Pop…the book just falls on her face and That is That).  

Suzie,  a regular Voyager to Slumber City, is renowned for giving the most excellent Nocturnal Tours of the Snoozy Subconscious. 

So! Suzie! Wifout further ado – what IS tonight’s Exciting Adventure?

 http://youtu.be/jPhbVTf52Go

oh – my. this is gonna be good.

fanks to TadNPeanuts for this amazing and thought-provoking video.  Mom, why AM I sushi? I’ll be finking about this for a while…

and I’m off to join the circus now…kthxbye!

been nice knowing ya!  

akshully, we would not have to resort to these EXTREEMS if Mrs. Whatsername had noticed that the Acro Cat Circus came to Maryland this weekend and had taken me to the show to get a paw print or two – but no.  Again, she utterly and completely fails.  She mumbled something lame about picking up a kid from college.  You can clearly see where her misguided priorities lie.  So now we all get to read about it AFTER TEH FACT, which, I’m sorry, furriends, is simply unacceptable.  My favorite part of that article, btw, is this insightful observation:

“The circus cats “climb ladders, jump hoops, roll barrels, push shopping carts. Or sometimes lay on the floor, do nothing and groom inappropriately.… They’ll do things at their own pace.”

Yep. Sounds like it’s just the ticket for my unique skill set.   In teh meantimes, enjoy this little video and keep an eye out for my name in lights on a marquee near you soon! (cuz soon enuff the name will have to change to something more appropriate like “Sparky Spitfire’s Amazing AcroCats.”  Cuz, while their Human Trainer seems far more interesting than Mrs. W. could eva hope to be, I’m kinda thinking she’s expendable….)

tabby tiger beat

oh, hello.  i’m glad you’re here.  something weird is going on.  suddenly, i am filled wif some kind of static electricity that i can barely control. i’m all bouncy and giggly.  more girly than a ninja is supposed to be, let’s just say that.  it’s so embarrassing, especially for an Certified Action Cat like moi.  

and now that i has tasted teh fruits of Whirlwind Romances (fanks Spitty!) and said Romancer drove off in his Furrari and left me here all alones, I only have the interwebs to keep me company.  and so i found this:

i fink i’m in loves.

fanks Jumping Cat owner…um…do you speak English? Is there a fan-club? can i be president?

you can’t handle teh truth, human…

a verrah norty night-out:

Mrs. W. has made me issue a WARNING that this video is, once again, NOT Grated – (it’s not cheddar, woman, but WUTeva…) and such behavior is not approved or condoned by the members and staff at SparkySpitfire Internationale, blah, blah, blah, but enjoy it anyway.

fanks to Nelayme for posting this thought-provoking and informative vid.

per usual, a Verrah Bizzy Birfday

Oh, hello. I didn’t see you there.  Are you one of the roadies? or a guest? Cuz roadies need to go in the back entrance. Guests, I’m afraid, will just has to be patient and wait out front behind teh red velvet ropes.  Sorry. We still has a lot of set up to do for my birfday. 

But, since you’re here (and since you got past the Bouncer, who I’m gonna have to talk to ’bout that), why don’t you come wif me to the tree fort to see all the fun we have planned. Watch out for the Caterers.  They still have a lot of ice statues to set up.  Oh! Be careful.  You don’t want to trip over teh cat niptini fountain.  Ah, here we go.  The DJ’s have arrived. 

(Sounds good, but mebbe a little more bass? fanks guys)

 

Okay, let’s see…we also has lots of good noms on hand.  My human sistah, Whozshe, just got back from NYC, where she picked up teh finest in treats at a fancy SoHo taxidermy shop (which, I fink, is French, for “Cat Deli”).   

would you like a bat wing? or a freeze-dried mousie?  Not cheap, that’s for sure, but we are a family of foodies, so we hate to skimp on teh finer fings in life.  Besides. It’s not evaday you turn 2.

Also, we have a great entertainment lineup.  I hate to spoil the surprise, but we were able to book a huge International A-lister. Let’s just say I was able to help him out of a jam wif teh INS.  

oh, look! there’s his limo now. omc, look at the size of his entourage! i better go.  Boy, a birfday is a lot work if you want it done right, but i also really want  this party to be special – a way to say FANKS to all my bloggie friends.  Looks like it will be another year o’ fun, thanks to you. 

Shout outs and Purrs to all my Furry Friends,

Sparky Spitfire

 FANKS! to DJ Larson for the scratching kitten vid and to Studio Vaayuu for teh Basket Kitteh Gagnam! 

the too quiet backyard

it is wif a heavy heart that i tell you the loss of my friend and neighbor, Longfellow, aka, Mr. Yappy.

yes, yes, he was really a “frenemy,” but I like to think we both enjoyed our little game.  he got to bark himself into a pretzel and i got to pretend i had no earfly idea what was going one.  i like to think that thoughts of killing me were the highlight of his day.  I hope so. 

The backyard is quiet today.  i have to say, i don’t like it that way.

i’m sorry, Longfellow. i never meant to tease you. well. yes. I guess I did. but only a little.  i wish we could have one more dash along the fence line and one more yaptastic session of barkosity.  you did that better than any dog.

purrs until we meet again.  your friend,

sparky spitfire  

Beware!

Et Tu, Felis? Oh, yeah. Us too. You best believe it.  

Kittehs! It is the Day to Beware! Today IS teh KittIDES of March!

That sneaky, double-crossing day when a certain Mr. Caesar scoffed at advice to stay home, preferable Under Teh Bed.  And look where it got him. One minute; calmly going about his Dictatorial Duties, ruling with his blissfully ignorant iron fist.  The next; WHAMMO! 60 of his best homies taking him out.  23 times.

I gotta say, I am a sucker for this kind of dastardly planning.  So in honor of teh day, will share wif you my upcoming plots and schemes to deal with my many Enemies of the State and the Repressive Regimes that try to keep Sparky Spitfire down.  But not for long my friends.  Not for long…

First up – I deal wif teh Goggie Next Door. I will start teh day by sauntering along the top of the fence line, close enuff to work Mr. Yaptastic into a lather of dog spit and bark-osity.  then, i will leap onto his trash cans and pretend to break my leg, or somefing.  when he lunges (as much as stubby little legs can lunge) for my throat, I shall bounce, effortlessly, off his fluffy head, knocking over all the trash cans.  Then, while he’s distracted by the opportunity to trash pick,  I will prance around his yard and  look for my missing cat nip mousie. I’m pretty sure I buried it in the sand box a while ago.  

Score: Sparky – 1 catnip mousie.  Mr. Yappy – 1 “bad dog! don’t eat the trash!” scolding

Next up – the Doors.  Why, on earf, would anyone build a house wif doors that shut on the wrong side of me?  Honestly.  It’s like a conspiracy. Today, I will scratch a Sparky sized hole in each and every door.  Kitchen cabinets too.  I’m pretty sure I figured out the portable circular saw.  pffffftttt. If Mr. Whatsisname can get it to works, so can I. 

Score: Sparky – Ultimate Unlimited Unrestricted Roaming Privileges.  Mr. Whatsisname – clean up.

Next – The Evil Squirrel Cabal.  Why, you little…I swear to COD I’m going to get you one of these days.  Look at them – screeching at me, the little fur pigeons.  I especially hate that one that moons me from the branch directly across from the bedroom window.  Hey! I can climb trees too, you know! Oh! No you didn’t! You didn’t just throw that nut at me, did you? you flea-bag gangsta, just you wait…dang. They move fast. 

Score: tie.

finally – the biggest Opressor of them all – Mrs.  Whatsername, Dictator Perpetuo.  Were you aware that I am no longer allowed outside at night? At all?  And that she sleeps soundly through all my polite and subtle hints that the party is just getting started at 3:00 am?  did you know? well.  there is only so much a kitteh can take.

That is why, tonight, I will sharpen my clawsies as I watch her closely…waiting for just the right moment – that interval of teh sleep cycle when she drifts off on a puffy cloud to dream land wif someone called Johnnie  (not, let me repeat, NOT Mr. Whatsisname) and then CRASH! Oh. I’m sorry.  Did you need that mirror?  well, mebbe not.  mebbe i did you a favor.  frankly, you are not aging quite as nicely as Mr. Deep, you knows. 21 Jump street is sooooooo last century, woman, and so are you. Oh! how’s that? you are tired of all my lip? fine. let me out.   

score: Sparky – 1 mighty blow for truth and justice.  Mrs. Whatsername: 1 cold sobering splash of reality

Okay, Kittehs! as you can see, I have another bizy day.  WHAT will you be doing today, my Co-Conspirators?  What eva it is, make sure it’s a good and fiendish.  Vive La Revolution!

Also – Come see what my friends at the Tabby Cat Club are planning to day! It’s sure to be dastardly…

Is this Love?

Is it? I sure teh heck hope not. 

Listen – I was zooming through the house last night; climbing bookshelves and shredding chair legs, you know, the usual low-impact cardio that keeps my engine running while I wait for some kindly teenager to march home and leave the barn door wide open for me to dash back outside- you know, a typical quiet evening, WHEN, to EVAone’s horror, Mrs. Whatsername, put down her Vodka Tonic and informed me that I “need a boyfriend.” That this would, somehow, help me “calm me teh frack down.”

Or somefing like that.  Hard to tell, what with all her slurring…but now I have to know – Is that true?  would Love make me dream dreamy dreams of stud muffin mancats? Would love make me go so whispy-eyed and soft focus that i forget to devour teh fishy or knock over the flowers?

Would Love put my Crazy Pants NRG to better use?

Cuz I have to admit, I do find this picture intriguing.  He is verrah handsome, isn’t he? Mr. Wide Collar, there, wif his older and wiser mancat reading glasses.  I’ll bet he was her Professor – Caterature or PawlySci, probably, and he wowed her wif his superior intellect and constant name-dropping of famous cats he’d met…

“really?’ she’d gush, “Lunch? at the White House? wif Socks?!’

Then he’d take a real interest in helping her broaden her horizons…he’d make vague promises of taking her on a “international conference” that really only ended up taking place in the dumpster behind teh library.  Then, after a few of these private “colloquiums,”  he suddenly wasn’t so interested in her “thesis” anymore. Suddenly became aloof; started grading a little harsher than was fair; suddenly became very difficult to corner. Like he was avoiding her vacant yellow-eyed stare or something.

But it was not like she was going to tell the Dean or the Administration or anything.  she just wanted one more night of love! just like they used to have, the two of them, together! Once more, she promised him, and then she’d gracefully bow out of his life.  So now she’s waiting for him to show up. Wif her pet piraña and teh sweet and dainty Derringer pistol she has tucked into her pretty little purse, specially for teh occassion.  

“Oh. He’ll come,” she tells herself.

Teh pictures she promised to send to his wife, of their night of “research” should do teh trick.

Now, see how wrong you are again, Mrs. W? As intriguing as Love and Boyfriends and Walking Fishies may be, I really am a little too bizzy for that kind of nonsense.  I have trees to climb. If Professor LeisureSuit wants to follow me up a tree, we can talk.  But i do plan to leave before things get too collegial.  and I get to eat teh flowers.

Good Luck, Blue Kitteh, where eva you are! Cod knows you will need it.  And fanks to imgur.com for the great photo!

inappropriate? who? me?

Kittehs! it’s Friday and all, so i went on Youtubey to get a jump on Caturday.  Mrs. W, I’ll have you know, was no help.  She kept saying “no. no. nope. not appropriate.” went on and on about how I was not being “family friendly” or “Grated.”  

Jeeze. What IS that woman’s problem? I mean, for all I know these Kittehs ARE my family. And, of course, I am always friendly.  36 FB friends can’t be wrong.  But, I will state, for teh record, that I am NOT and I have NEVA been Grated.  I am not a cheese, for heaven sakes.

anyway, teh lady in the song asks to see some lovely kittehs.  she gets her wish.  i bet you wanna see some kittehs too, right? Well, okay then. Wif out further ado:

fanks! to Mikkii Sanderson for posting the video and also to teh Lords of Acid for the, um, song.