Random weirdness: violent candy

Torrones are sophisticated and hearty Italian candies made of nougat and almonds.

Here is a nice box of Italian torrones.

The individual candies are packaged in little decorated boxes. Aren't they pretty?

Here's a close-up of the front of one little box.

And here is the back of that box. Isn't that a nice Italian painting? No wait –WTF?

I mean, seriously WTF?

These candies are weird. Disturbing, violent, and weird. And yet eerily delicious.

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Quote of the day


Chris's mother was bragging about her cat, Quinque Quinque. Quinque Quinque could not get to his litter box so he defecated into the bathtub, to the delight of Chris's mother. "I was so proud of him!"

Chris replied, "That's better than Mr. Kitten. Today I caught him peeing into a pile of laundry."

And the quote from Chris's mom: 

"Having pets is like having a retarded child."

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Haiku: Togetherness


When you have a cat
       You don't have to be alone

When you go potty

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Haiku: Move, please

Woman: Excuse me.
Woman: Move. I need to pee.
Cat: Wait. I'm drinking.

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The story of Pepper, the psycho cat that acts like a crazy ex girlfriend

First I wasn't. Then I was.

In the beginning it was dark, so dark. I don't remember anything before the dark. Then a light came, a red glow, light filtered through blood. Motion, softness warmth. Then suddenly I was cold and still, lying on something hard, a bright light burning into my closed eyes, air filling my chest. Fear but also freedom. I drank. I slept. I returned to the void from which I'd come. And then I woke up. Over and over.

Now I stalk the gardens of The Lake. I hunt spiders and moths. The boy gives me food. He shares his sardines. I love him. His mother tells him not to touch me, but he does. He pets me. I love him. I love him. Pet me. Pet me! Pet me, never stop. He stops. I hate him. I scratch him. He bleeds. I love him. Why don't you pet me anymore? Why did you change my name? I like the name Pepper.

They stop giving me food. They give me water instead. I don't need water. Every house's backyard touches the lake. That's why they call this housing development The Lake. I like my water in a bowl, please, Mother. Not thrown. Why did they change my name? Is 'Stupid' a nickname?

I wish the boy would feed me. I wish the boy would pet me, but when I ask to be petted he plays with me instead. I don't like to play football. I don't like to be the ball.

I'm hungry.
I'm sweet.
I meow through the window
every time they eat.

They give in. The mother says my new name is Garbage Disposal.

Now I sit on my favorite rock and look out onto the lake. The wind makes the water ripple and the sun shines on the ripples and makes a blurry haze.

I am happy, and that is good.

They don't pet me anymore, and that is bad.

I would be nice to pet now.

Because I am so fat. Pin It Now!

The Cat Stroller Cometh

The Cat Stroller Cometh

Picture of a cat in a cat stroller. He doesn't look thrilled.
They sell these on Amazon

Mr. Kitten made a disgusted sound and pointedly ruffled the bedsheets as if he were burying the human lying in them. 

Twitch yawn looked around. "Dude, what's going on?"

"I am sending a message regarding our human’s laziness. She has been lying in bed with her iPad with Safari open to an Amazon page with cat strollers. For the last 16 hours."

"Hmm." Twitch sniffed the human's face and patted her eyelid."To be fair, she's been asleep for the last 14."

Mr. Kitten arched his back. "You mean she hasn't been looking at cat strollers all this time?" He narrowed his eyes at the sleeping human. "My message to her would be more pointed indeed were I not declawed."

"Yeah, well. Either way I don't think your message is getting through. She’s asleep like a rock." Twitch flopped back down and got comfortable. "For a while I thought she was dead. Can you snore and be dead at the same time?"

"If anyone could, Chris Hugh could," Kitten huffed.

"I woke her up a few times just to be sure she was okay. I'm kind of a hero that way. Plus I got myself some snuggles, cuddles and scritchins...So, what's your problem with sleeping and being lazy? You're a cat. Cat pride, remember? You need pride and I'm not lion. Get it? Lion, lyin'?" Twitch laughed, then yawned wide enough to show a fair portion of his alimentary canal. 

Mr. Kitten closed his eyes. "Puns are the lowest form of humor."

They see me strollin'...
"At least I have a sense of humor. What's got your fluffy knickers in a bunch?"

Kitten sighed and snuggled down next to the sleeping human."Oh, Twitch. It's just that I'm so excited about her taking us out for a walk in a new cat stroller. I wish she would hurry up and order it."

Twitch looked at him and nodded slowly. "Oh yeah. I'm excited about that too," he said, wondering at his friend's sudden love of the great outdoors. He snickered thinking about the time Kitten got locked outside. His fur was so puffed up with fear that the only way Chris recognized him was through the process of elimination, him being the only black, pissed-off cat with yellow eyes snarling outside the window that morning.

The two cats settled down and went to sleep dreaming about being pushed around like kings in a luxurious new hundred-dollar stroller.

* * *

48 hours later, the three of them arrived home from their very first walk.

Chris Hugh carefully closed the front door and opened the stroller.  Mr. Kitten bolted out and dashed under the bed. Twitch hopped down, cast a dirty look in Kitten's direction and began grooming himself. 

And Chris Hugh spent an hour cleaning cat pee out of the stroller.
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