How's the Brink of Sanity Working for Ya?

So last night I was reading the FBI website, and I have to wonder... do you suppose they keep track of all the people who visit the site? Like, on a potential terrorist list? See, I was just looking to see what the requirements might be to become a trained assassin. When I couldn't find that information, I decided to read up on becoming a crime scene photographer. I've always liked the idea of law enforcement like the FBI or the CIA. I love the idea of intelligence and interrogation and hostage negotiation. That being said, I spent a few moments last night staring at all of the law related jargon on the Academy website and then gave up and returned to Facebook. A much more promising platform for my insanity.

Riley is currently sitting on my bed, blissfully licking his ass, making sounds like a suction cup. Sunday evening when I got home from visiting my parents he was so excited to have me home that he rocketed around the house like a total spaz, howling like his furry little ass was on fire. He ran into my room, onto the bed, and around to the night stand that I conveniently lifted from one of the buildings I explored. It was suddenly like a sequence from a cartoon. He landed on the table and realized at the last second that there were magazines piled up on top and that he was slipping. Since he doesn't have front claws he tried desperately to gain traction with his back claws and wound up jackrabbit kicking my lamp. The lamp fell over, the shade fell off, the magazines toppled to the floor, and his giant noggin took out a bowl full of autumn leaves. The cat howled once more, threw himself onto the rug, and kept running. He made it around the corner in the hall and promptly fell ass over teakettle down the stairs.

Halloween Bites...And So Do I

The damage count from Hurricane Riley? One fish, one fish bowl, one Martha Stewart Glass, one glass picture frame, one lamp shade.

My version of payback? Riley's Halloween hat of purple horns. Doesn't he look happy? Just call him "LuciFUR" from now on.

When Riley Attacks

Hello My Name is Riley and I'm an Addict...

A few weekends ago I went home to visit my parents and forgot to close my bedroom door which was apparently a bad idea. I came home to find my trash can knocked over which is unusual because dumpster diving is one activity that Riley never indulges in, but then I realized that there was catnip scattered around the edge of the trash can and the bag was missing from my night stand. Oops. Of course I looked everywhere and there was no sign of the bag. Now fast forward to five minutes ago- I'm in the kitchen heating up Chinese food and when I come back in my room, Riley is rolling around on the floor. Rolling around in a giant MOUNTAIN of catnip. Then he got up on the bed, ran around a little so the bed was good and covered, then climbed into the laundry basket where he is now sitting, completely coked out of his mind. Do they have Narcotics Anonymous for cats?

RIP Monroe

@#*$ing cat killed my fish! That's right. Riley killed my fish. I came home after a less than relaxing weekend at my parents' house and was right in the middle of saying, "Let's see what kind of trouble you got in..." when I looked up and saw all the decorative rocks from Monroe's bowl scattered across the kitchen floor. Then I looked up to the counter and saw that, not only was the fishbowl in a million pieces, but Riley had also managed to take out one of my Martha Stewart drinking glasses at the same time. I ran to the sink where the majority of the fallout seemed to have landed and found my fish, dead, stiff as a board in the drain. @#*$ing cat...