Poll results and the Great Oil Spill

It occurs to me that it wasn't really smart of me to have so many options.

So, here are some more:

• I cancel out the options no one voted for and have a new poll.
• You all comment below telling me why I should use your specific idea.
• I have a poll for what to do about a poll.
• We pretend this never happened and do nothing.

So. . . what should I do?

In the meantime of me trying to write this post, we had an Incident.

Like most families do, we have a bottle of Canola oil in our kitchen (Yes, with a serving suggestion. Ick.) and it is made of plastic. When I see plastic, I think oh, plastic. When Perry sees plastic, he thinks CHEWABLE. I'll let you guess what happened at 11 p.m. two nights ago. We're still getting it out of stuff.

Paparazzi: Daisy

This works best if you have some Lady Gaga in the background. The song starts at 2:00 or so, so the whole first two minutes will NOT be a fitting background. (And yes, I have finally accepted Lady Gaga, even though she runs on the principle that people should wear less clothes and I run on the principle that people should wear MORE clothes. Sigh. . . .)
If we had some motivational quotes from the model, we could send this to a magazine.

Daisy Looks at Shoes

I don't know when Pet Day will be, but here's a Daisy story I hope you won't find tedious.

This may be utterly shocking to you, but someone likes my shoes. And by someone, I mean Daisy. And by likes, I mean "views as prey". The rest is pretty much literal.

Saturday morning, at approximately 5:14 AM, I awakened to a very irritating sound. [You must understand that with loads of homework and an overzealous Perry who wished to eat my carpet, I had had little sleep last week. So much that sometimes I slept in (gasp) ten minutes and thus couldn't edit my blog.] Hearing this, I turned over to see Daisy nuzzling my boots.

Me: Dai-syyyyyyyyy. Nooooooooooooooooo. (obviously tired)
Daisy: *jumps backwards and crouches behind scratching post*
Me: *falls back onto mattress, groaning*
Daisy: *leaps at my ballet flats*
Me: *sigh* Daiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiisy.
Daisy: *treadles ballet flat*
Me: Go awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.
Daisy: *gets bored and commences eating boot*
Me: *buries self in comforters*

How many cats like shoes? (Probably a lot more than we need to know.)

Bon Anniversaire à Scout. . . .

Martin Luther King, Jr. Day is Scout's birthday, and he is a big six-year-old!Noble-ness!!! Hahaha. . . .

Dog food with peanut butter slathered over a cheese rind, covered in Chicken and Rice baby food and more grated cheese on top. Delicious, right? Much better than Gastrointestinal Health Food.

I need more brownies, stat!

AGAIN I have forgotten the anniversary of this blog. The six-month one, I think.

Sob, sob, etc.

Let's have some points of interest.

1. You all know (hopefully) how I love love love the etiquette/food/English language/fashion area at the library. You also know (probably much more so) that I am a bad conversationalist. This has led me to read two conversation books, which were interesting but told me that at least 80% of what I say isn't worth a thing. Joy.
2. This book also informed me that people do not like hearing cat stories 24/7. I already knew this, but with a lot of people all we have in common is that they think my cats are cute. . .
   
3. . . . so I think that there should be a designated day of the week for me to monologue about the week's adventures involving Daisy and Perry. See Poll.
   
4. I think the only reason "Je t'aime, l'ete" is the most viewed page is because I can never remember what it is about. I assume that this happens to you all as well.
5. I made Ghirardelli brownies. Nom.
   
6. MY SIMS GAME IS BROKEN!!! (More on this later.)

Kitchen Crime. . . .

Allo Bloggees! Emma here, apologetic and lazy. I've broken out the ol' camera to bring to you live footage of the newest addition to a file we call "Daisy and Perry Victims." Please note the lovely light and authentically distressed wood (yup, I contributed). Let's take a closer look, shall we?
Isn't it gory? We presume that Daisy did the damage, as Perry was in a cage and the corpse was found in Laura's room. Of course, Daisy mustn't get all the limelight: I present to you Perry's food. Blandness, anyone? (This picture actually turned out really well. I flatter myself as much to say that it looks magazine-esque.)

Perry=Stitches out=Elated Vets

Perry got his stitches out. I assume that it must be very annoying to have someone ogle over their cat for two weeks and such, but now you won't hear about Perry until he catches some muffins.

Perry still smells like the perfume of the vets who coddled him. Seriously. Reminds you of the Daisy story, perhaps?

*I go back to search for Daisy story in order to link it and find I have not posted it.*

When we first got Daisy, we obviously had to take her to the vet. (I AM sure that you all remember Daisy's cuteness.) Upon us letting her out of the carrier, the vet scooped her up and took her to the back room where the other vets/assistants were, and yes, we could hear them coddling. For a while. (We have great vets.)

Off to buy sunglasses for mah kitties and me to hide our fame. :)