Thursday, 4 September 2008

With apologies to Joyce Kilmer.

I think that I shall never see
A human clever as a cat.
A cat whose hungry eyes will stare
At that sweet cheezburger sitting there.
A cat that watches for his chance
To steal that burger while you glance
At other kitteh over there
Who's hacking up a ball of hair.
Upon your carpet he has lain,
A knarly icky glob to stain.
Humans are just fools you see,
Can be distracted, meanwhile we...
Can haz cheezburger.

Om nom nom hey nonny nonny.

Sunday, 31 August 2008


Oh hai. In teh beginnin Ceiling Cat maded teh skiez An da Urfs, but he did not eated dem. Da Urfs no had shapez An haded dark face, An Ceiling Cat rode invisible bike over teh waterz. At start, no has lyte. An Ceiling Cat sayz, i can haz lite? An lite wuz.
An Basement Cat LOLed.

Monday, 28 April 2008

bill bissett

[for reference, bill bissett]

nd th cat's n my hed

but that's alright, n evrythng

cos maybe he's ded, n maybe he isnt
it's uncertn, see? with tht giger cntr n all

friggin Heisnbrg. I lrnd it n school, but it
didnt do me no good now, did it?

so, nyway, here's the cat deal.
He's lost, n the dark more or less,
lookin at th parchmnt
thinkn bout onions
n stuff
n then there's this big noise
sounds like Montreal on a Tuesday
after th Habs win
nd he scats
not scats like crap, but like outta here, man
leavin the darkness
leavin the parchmnt
leavin, always leavin
lik m leavin u now
not fr gud, just fr now

Monday, 10 March 2008


From: Lady Hypnos Pearly Pandora.
No:36 Old Shrewberry Street,
London England.

I am Lady Hypnos Pearly Pandora, suffering from cancerous ailment.I used to be married to Sir Rosjoy Goldentouch an English aristocat of very high breeding who is dead and resting peacefully. My husband was an able-bodied seaman all his life before he passed. Our life together as man and wife lasted for three minutes without offsprings. My husband died after a protracted illness in an accident he got from Africa while on humanitarian duties. He was shot while scavenging from dustbins, then cooked and eaten. My husband,while he was alive made a vow to uplift the down-trodden and the less-privileged individuals as he had passion for persons who can not help themselves due to physical disability or financial predicament.I can adduce this to the fact that he needed a Child from the marriage, which never came.

When my late husband was alive he deposited the sum of Twenty Million Pounds (20,000,000.00 Million Great Britain Pounds Sterling)which were derived from his vast estates and investment in capital market with his bank here in UK. Presently, this money is still with the Bank. Recently, my Doctor told me that I have limited days to live due to the cancerous problems I am suffering from. Which effect my grammer; syntax and speling.

Though what bothers me most is the Tennis Elbow that I have in addition to the cancer. With this hard reality that has befallen me, I have decided to donate this fund to you and want you to use this gift which comes from my husbands effort to fund the upkeep of widows, widowers, orphans, destitute, the down-trodden, physically challenged children, barren-women and persons who prove to be genuinely handicapped financially, such as people who are obliged to live Up North.

I took this decision because I do not have any child that will inherit this money and my husbands relatives are bourgeois and very wealthy individuals and I do not want my husbands hard earned money to be misused or invested into ill perceived ventures such as dolphin-flavoured catfood. I do not want this money to be misused hence the reason for taking this bold decision. I am not afraid of death hence I know where I am going. I do not need any telephone communication in this regard due to my deteriorating health and because of the presence of my husbands relatives around me. I do not want them to know about this development because i want the money used for the Less Previledged. Also, holding a telephone is quite tricky in my predicament.

My happiness is that I lived a life worthy of emulation. Please assure me that you will act just as I have stated herein. Hope to hear from you soon.You can contact me through my personal email address at: pandorafunds419@hotmail.scam

Thanking you in advance for everything,
Sincerely yours,
Lady Hypnos Pearly Pandora

Wednesday, 5 March 2008

Dungeon Cat

You find yourself in a large chamber dimly lit by flickering torches.
Passages lead off to the north and east.
A spiral staircase leads up into darkness.


Looking around, you see:
* A large, glittering emerald.
* A short, bronze sword inscribed with mysterious runes.
* A wooden box.
* A collection of small, coloured polyhedrons.
* A sheet of parchment.

You hear a meowing sound coming from the box.

Get box.

You pick up the wooden box. It shifts in your hands.

Open box.

You open the wooden box.
Inside the box, you see:
* A small, glowing lump of metal.
* A geiger counter.
* A vial marked "Poison".
* A small, black cat.

The cat leaps from the box and disappears up the spiral staircase.

Get parchment.

You pick up the sheet of parchment. It bears an inscription.

Read parchment.

R.I.P. Gary Gygax, co-creator of D&D.

Monday, 25 February 2008

King James Version

And so it was, that the days were accomplished, that she would be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and then a daughter, then two more sons and another daughter.

Verily I say unto you, the children she did clasp to her bosom, and did give suck, for unto this time had she awaited. But the Tom had forsaken her, and lo! she was wroth and exceedingly distressed.

Blessed be the kit who doth know his father, and his father's name. Unto him shall come much milk and kibble. But woe to the fatherless kit who comes not with mice to instruct the young and favor his spouse.

And when the time was passed, and the kits weaned from her bosom, then did the cat seek the Tom, for his place in their instruction was ordained by the prophets, but he came not, neither could she find him.

Monday, 28 January 2008

miss cat, beat poet

& then that cat cat flew outta my head and outta my crib & then he was gone leaving me with adam's rib 'cos it's soooooo like the way the artichokes ramble on and on but then mysteriously he was gone it was said that he came back but i never saw it happen so he's still gone and it's all whack

whatever the place is empty like blue orbits of the moon and when it happens like that it's the middle of june i can't find him no more so i went to the store and stored up more so sore my head's so sore thinking about that cat and his mat and where my head's at i wish and i wish that my thinking weren't flat

mister cat you're tiring me out i need a dish of trout to fill my belly out what you did when you left me last wednesday night it ain't right I'm contrite and my eyes in the light can't see anything anything anything new so what do I do and so man i flew from the door to the store and i can't buy no more this materialism is making me sore

so i say mister cat you making me ache give me a break you just come and you take so you better be back mister cat and that's that

Sunday, 13 January 2008

The Mass Spectrometrists Cat


The Mass Spectrometrists Cat

Sat on the Finnigan Mat

Thursday, 10 January 2008

Singleton chicklit

Thursday 10th Jan. Still single.

Was hoping to be writing about my new man, Tom, but the fucker decided to run off after our date last night.


Had so much fun (note to self: too much fun? Is this bad?) and felt like we really clicked. Disgracefully, let him shag me on our first date. Am dreadful old sleazy floozy.

Obviously was not hard enought to get, as once he'd got he legged it.

Did I give him my number? Can't remember. Damn, damn, damn.

Ha. Will ignore him if (when?) he calls, and pretend have many other gorgeous possible dates after me. That'll teach him. He will then keep calling me and professing undying love. Need to work on my sexy rejection voice for the first few calls.


Unless (horrible thought!) he calls round. FUCK! He might turn up on the doorstep, calling for me! I look like shit!

Need a serious grooming hair is a disgrace!

(Much later, much, much later)

Oh, what's the point?

Fuck it.

Where's those sardines?

Tuesday, 8 January 2008

Trashy Porn

She woke up in darkness, yawned and stretched. It was warm in here, but stifling in more ways than one. Pushing open the door, she stepped briefly into the glow of a streetlight and glanced around. What she needed, she decided, lay towards the less salubrious quarter of town.

Slinking along in the shadows, taking shortcuts through the back alleys, she followed her nose to the fishy smell of the docks. And there, swaggering off the gangplank of a trawler, powerful muscles rippling with every step, was just the fellow she was after.

"Hey, Tom," she called. They always answered to Tom. "Looking for a good time?"

His head jerked around as if he'd been punched on the jaw. "Well, hey there, Kitty," he smiled, showing a dazzling array of teeth. His gaze quickly travelled from her green eyes, taking in the sleekness of her waist before coming to rest on her firm thighs. "What did you have in mind?"

"Do I really need to answer that?"

Moments later, their bodies were locked together in a tangle of limbs, thrusting and grinding and that. "Boy, you don't waste any time, do you? You must have been on that boat a loooooooong time. Ah! Yes! Yes! Oooooooooooooohhhhhh! Baby, yes! etc."

A boot came flying past her ear. "Shut the fuck UP! Bloody cats!"

Before she could draw breath, Tom was gone, tail disappearing behind a packing crate.

"Call me!" she yowled hopefully, before heading back towards the bright lights of town.