(Not So) Wordless Wednesday

Steve MUST go. He’s a no-good, two-timing, double-crossing miscreant. I knew it the day I met him. I saw right through him and his “dumb” act. He may have everyone else snowed – especially Carol – but I KNOW. I’m onto him. And his stealing MY commercial right out from under me is the last straw. 

Ever since the letter from Eli Lilly came wanting to use him [and NOT me!] in their advertisements, he’s been strutting around the house making everyone poke his abs to see how hard they are. Flaunting his treachery without even a hint of shame. How dare he!

The response.

Last week my sister, Ethel, sent off a letter to Ms. Rice of Eli Lilly in response to Ms. Rice’s interest in working with Ethel to promote their product, Prozac. Today, the mail carrier delivered Ms. Rice’s response.

Dear Ethel,
I received your letter detailing a list of demands which must be met in order to work with you. While we think you would be an excellent fit to market our product, Prozac, to cats, I am afraid that we cannot meet your demands.

First, asking your moms to re-home your brother, Steve, is cruel, even by our standards. Second,

False advertising?

The other day I woke to find a message in my inbox from a human named Ms. Rice that works for a company called Eli Lilly. She said Eli Lilly makes a medication called Prozac and they want to expand their market by advertising the drug for use with cats and dogs.

I contacted Ms. Rice and told her that my brother, Walter, has taken Prozac for almost a year now with excellent results [i.e., he chases me a little less] and that I would be more than happy to provide a testimonial for them.

She informed me that they already have a dog lined up and are in need of a cat. Evidently they tried to secure Grumpy Cat [who is already working with Pfizer to promote Zoloft],

then Henri, the Existential Cat [who eschews antidepressants as

(Not So) Wordless Wednesday

Hello, this is The General. After playing with the idea of starting my own blog, I decided to stick with guest writing on Carol’s. Seeing how much time Carol devotes to maintaining her blog, I’m afraid a blog of my own would take too much time away from raiding the toy basket and gnawing on chewies. And now that summer’s almost here, I hope to spend more time outside.

Speaking of being outside, Eggnog recently asked me to help her unearth clothes from years past that she’d buried in the backyard. How that five-pound ball of fur buried all of those outfits by herself is beyond me – it must have taken her forever. Thanks to my upper body strength [Steve’s got nothing on me with his pathetic abs], I was able to dig up Eggnog’s clothes in no time. It was refreshing to have someone appreciate my digging skills.

Living in a house with a mom who is an archaeologist, one would expect that a digging dog would be a welcome addition. Maybe even a source of pride.

OG in the house.

Boy has it been crazy around here the past few weeks! I’ve hardly had time to play with my track ball, stalk bugs, or nap in the window, let alone blog.

With the help of our brother, The General (a born digger), Eggnog unearthed her wardrobe from her days as successful rap artist.

Since then she’s been schooling Steve on how to walk and talk like, well, an early-2000s rap artist. Let’s just say he’s not a natural.