Ways for Kittehs to Ruin Christmas!

Hello, reading-type Hoomins

 

Welcome to another lame version of Life in Rehab,

brought to you by The Feline Overlord Clowder.

I am BlackBerry, better known as BB,

The Grande Dame of the crew at 11 years of age.

And that's just counting THIS life.

You can tell I've entered the room by the puff of smoke 

and distinct scent of sulfur right before I retract my black leathery wings.

 I do not "belong" to The Redhead.

 My faraway glance of love belongs to The Large Bald One with Thumbs,

whom I allow her to borrow as long as she continues to open cans.

When this ceases to exist, so does she.

 

 I tolerate this ridiculous outfit and affront to my dignity yearly for one reason...

look below:

 I long ago realized The Redhead has no taste and will do anything for a laugh.

These boots are indeed paired with a hospital gown that makes

her look like she's being chased by two giant marshmellows.

I hear the hospital staff was in more stitches than her.

But while she was enjoying the view from her gurney on her way

to have her gall bladder

~which she refuses to bring home for us to eat~

removed, she asked us to pick up the slack and do the blog.

Judging from some of her previous useless content,

she should have asked a lot sooner.

This could have been a good blog.

Without further adieu, 

The Feline Overlord Clowder

proudly presents~

Ways for Kittehs to Ruin Christmas!

You Haz nice day, k?

Thanks, bai!