From this title, it would be understandable if one were to draw the conclusion that the cheese has, at last, slipped all the way off Ms. Knitingale's cracker. And this is not impossible...Ms. Knitingale is forced to admit that said cheese may have been a bit precariously balanced to begin with. But no, this title refers to the things I rather imagine Ed, a highly vocal kitty, to be saying. Because I'm a little weird and I tend to anthropomorphize my critters, and because it's my blog and I can do all kinds of crazy stuff if I want to. Bwa-ha-ha-ha.....
Complete with red heel:
It is early morning--like, 5:30 early. Ed has eaten breakfast and is now following me around the kitchen, apparently with something terribly important to tell me.
Me: "Ed, what do you want? You already had breakfast."
Ed: "Well, I can't help noticing that you have a half pound of deli turkey in the fridge. And, you know, I'd really like to help you out with that."
Me: "Ed, you're not getting turkey. Give it up."
Ed: "No, seriously, it would be a help to you. You're never going to eat all that."
Me: "Look, I know you love turkey and all, but no. Here, try some of these cat treats."
Ed(incredulously): "CAT treats? Are you mad, Woman? You think a cat of my quality can be seduced by little nuggets of petrified cow snot and chicken lips? Please."
Me: "Chickens don't have lips, Ed. And it says right on the box that these are yummy and nutritious."
Ed (clearly affronted): "If they're so yummy, why don't you eat them and give me the turkey? I can't BELIEVE you would treat a faithful friend in this fashion."
Me: "Look, you're not getting the turkey. I'm putting some cat treats on the floor. You can eat them or not."
Ed: "Not. And a pox upon you for even asking."
Me: "Up to you. But quit whining about it."
(brief pause here)
Ed (urgently): "Lady! LADY! Gussie just ate all my cat treats! She didn't even leave me one!"
Me: "I thought you didn't want them."
Ed: "I do! I mean...I don't, of course. But I don't want her to have them!"
Me: "Sorry, Ed. You snooze, you lose. Suck it up, Big Guy."
Ed: "You know, I can't help but notice you have a half a pound of deli turkey in the fridge...."
Me: "Damnit, Ed--you're NOT getting turkey. Now quit bugging me."
Ed: "I noticed you have some ham in the fridge....."
Ed: "Hey, do that again! It makes that little thing in the back of your throat dance! Humans are just SO interesting!"
And so it goes. And then he has the nerve to look like this:
"Turkey? What turkey? No, of course I don't want any. That would be wrong of me. I'm perfectly happy with the cow snot I get given." (Please note the not-inconsiderable dent in the couch cushion which is precisely the shape of Ed's also not-inconsiderable ass.)
Hey, I finished the first crayon sock:
I even cast on for the second one and finished the ribbing last night while watching CSI (because, again, my life is such a fabulous whirl). I so want to be Katherine Willows. She's tough, she's smart, she knows how to pole dance (okay, so I don't really want to pole dance...and the folks at the strip clubs really don't want me to, either....but I'd love to be able to say that I could and be all casual and hot about it like she is), and she has a killer body.
And I'll bet her cat doesn't give her all that crap, either.