K DD has been staring in dismay at these “wine eggs” she bought from that guy at the bus station for HOURS but they haven’t hatched yet. She’s starting to lose her buzz, dammit! I told her maybe she should try stomping them but she just got indignant and accused me of trying to have an intervention. Don’t tell her but I’m secretly planning one anyway with my support group, “People Who Love Cats Who Love Booze More Than They Love People”. It’s going to be an absolute bloodbath. The last time we tried an intervention she was so wasted she thought it was a Kitty DrunkDrunk celebrity roast and just kept tenting her fingers and smiling and nodding as if our complaints about her horrible behavior were actually amusing, affectionate anecdotes.
I KNOW! And then when I try to explain how wine is really made she just looks at me pityingly like I’M the idiot! Everyone knows it comes from the Franzia tree. Duh.
Oh there is NOTHING better than K DD on bath salts. Picture a daddy longlegs with all but 4 of its legs pulled off trying to wriggle into a spandex unitard.
You know what goes great with wine eggs? Wine and eggs. Come on over for brunch! K DD is cooking her specialty, “watch the cat pass out in the omelette pan”.
K DD’s hypnotic charms are indeed mighty, M U M. How K DD and I love to listen for your little footsteps pitter-pattering across the comments page, curled up together with steaming mugs of absinthe! Thank god you keep coming back so we can keep refilling.
““A man who was fond of wine was offered some grapes at dessert after dinner. ‘Much obliged,’ said he, pushing the dish away from him, ‘but I am not in the habit of taking my wine in pills.’”
-Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, The Physiology of Taste, 1825
Oh how K DD pines for your historical nuggets! And by that she means the mummified martini olives she batted behind the sofa last time she was in the throes of the DTs!
You made MY daiquiri! And by daiquiri I mean glugging rum into a smoothie. And by smoothie I mean the dregs of the box wine mixed with a maraschino cherry I found stuck on the bottom of K DD’s filthy little pink paw pad.
Well there WAS that nasty rumor involving the late Master Moon and a paternity test, which mysteriously got “lost” in a “tub of baked beans” on the way to the lab, according to “authorities”. Kitty DrunkDrunk and he DO kind of have the same nose, though. Ahem.
Get the whatsie whhHAAA? Thanks! C C ! K DD and I are cavorting about in our best soiled muumus in delight! Don’t believe her when she tries to convince you that the strategically placed paisleys on hers is “scratch and sniff”. It’s a total lie.
Thanks for visiting my blog today. I’ve been reading a few of your last posts. They’re all hysterical. Thanks for finding me so I could read your posts 🙂
Right on, B F! Kitty DrunkDrunk originally thought the Bumble Files was a secret dossier on her happy hour activities, imagine our delight when it turned out to be you! What a relief!
It is borderline animal cruelty, I know! I can’t help myself, I’m just SO enjoying watching her sitting on that dish day after day, knitting little wine bottle cozies….
Hee hee – always so much fun just watching them and when they are passed out, tickle their little kitty witty paws. And the they bite, ooooh how we like it when they bite!
reader appreciation award alert:
‘Smell My Paw. The most excellent adventures of Kitty DrunkDrunk, a cat whose raw, unfettered hedonism outstrips my own. This is a cat I want to get embarrassingly drunk with. Morgue drunk.’
GUUUHH??! Whoa THANKS pal! Kitty DrunkDrunk is giddy with delight. And gin, of course. She’s feeling quite grand now and is parading around in nothing but a nasty old g-string left over from her stripper days with like, one smeary sequin still attached. Hooray!
Speaking as AnElephant and a Scot, what exactly is wrong with being a bit drunk a lot of the time? Or a lot drunk a bit of the time? Did Abraham Lincoln say that, or was it Bob Dylan (hic)?
Hear hear! K DD has yet to discover any actual proof that drunkenness is in any way detrimental to one’s well being. Although it IS hard to “discover” anything when all you do is lie face-down on the couch in your soiled bathrobe, occasionally fumbling for the remote. But still.
t
Smell My Paw 
Damn wine eggs!
I KNOW! And then when I try to explain how wine is really made she just looks at me pityingly like I’M the idiot! Everyone knows it comes from the Franzia tree. Duh.
Duh!!!!!!!!! I have one in my backyard. I know, you’re jealous.
Wine eggs are street legal, KDD! And so very portable!
When the Wine Egg Fairy comes and leaves chardonnay balls under your pillow, you GOTTA go for a walkabout! Thanks for the wisdom, Wheezy R!
better than kitty drunk drunk on bath salts…
Oh there is NOTHING better than K DD on bath salts. Picture a daddy longlegs with all but 4 of its legs pulled off trying to wriggle into a spandex unitard.
Wine eggs…
Bwahahahaha
You know what goes great with wine eggs? Wine and eggs. Come on over for brunch! K DD is cooking her specialty, “watch the cat pass out in the omelette pan”.
Why do I find myself reading your stuff over and over and over? Trying to find one little morsel of sense to it.
After the 6th passover…….I wonder why I keep coming back?
K DD’s hypnotic charms are indeed mighty, M U M. How K DD and I love to listen for your little footsteps pitter-pattering across the comments page, curled up together with steaming mugs of absinthe! Thank god you keep coming back so we can keep refilling.
““A man who was fond of wine was offered some grapes at dessert after dinner. ‘Much obliged,’ said he, pushing the dish away from him, ‘but I am not in the habit of taking my wine in pills.’”
-Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, The Physiology of Taste, 1825
Oh how K DD pines for your historical nuggets! And by that she means the mummified martini olives she batted behind the sofa last time she was in the throes of the DTs!
mmmmm….blood bath…I’ll be over shortly…
I’ll save you some plasma sangria! K DD is filling her rubber ducky-shaped flask!
She’s gonna wreak a terrible revenge – be careful!
I am already a-skaird! She has been leaving threatening messages spelled out in projectile vomit on the kitchen floor!
Oh dear!
hello Kitty, greetings from Knut and Oskar, and they say thanks for stopping by on Kind Art 🙂 You are beautiful and funny:) greetings from Paris
Oh! Thank you my dears! K DD can’t wait to come visit you in Paris so she can pass out in STYLE!!
HAHAHAHA this made my day.
You made MY daiquiri! And by daiquiri I mean glugging rum into a smoothie. And by smoothie I mean the dregs of the box wine mixed with a maraschino cherry I found stuck on the bottom of K DD’s filthy little pink paw pad.
She really is the Keith Moon of cats.
Well there WAS that nasty rumor involving the late Master Moon and a paternity test, which mysteriously got “lost” in a “tub of baked beans” on the way to the lab, according to “authorities”. Kitty DrunkDrunk and he DO kind of have the same nose, though. Ahem.
OMG! You are hilarious!! I’m so putting you on my blogroll.
Get the whatsie whhHAAA? Thanks! C C ! K DD and I are cavorting about in our best soiled muumus in delight! Don’t believe her when she tries to convince you that the strategically placed paisleys on hers is “scratch and sniff”. It’s a total lie.
LOL You’re an absolute riot!
Thanks for visiting my blog today. I’ve been reading a few of your last posts. They’re all hysterical. Thanks for finding me so I could read your posts 🙂
Right on, B F! Kitty DrunkDrunk originally thought the Bumble Files was a secret dossier on her happy hour activities, imagine our delight when it turned out to be you! What a relief!
For her sake inject them with wine??
It is borderline animal cruelty, I know! I can’t help myself, I’m just SO enjoying watching her sitting on that dish day after day, knitting little wine bottle cozies….
Hee hee – always so much fun just watching them and when they are passed out, tickle their little kitty witty paws. And the they bite, ooooh how we like it when they bite!
reader appreciation award alert:
‘Smell My Paw. The most excellent adventures of Kitty DrunkDrunk, a cat whose raw, unfettered hedonism outstrips my own. This is a cat I want to get embarrassingly drunk with. Morgue drunk.’
http://onlythetruest.wordpress.com/2012/08/22/appreciation-award/
GUUUHH??! Whoa THANKS pal! Kitty DrunkDrunk is giddy with delight. And gin, of course. She’s feeling quite grand now and is parading around in nothing but a nasty old g-string left over from her stripper days with like, one smeary sequin still attached. Hooray!
Speaking as AnElephant and a Scot, what exactly is wrong with being a bit drunk a lot of the time? Or a lot drunk a bit of the time? Did Abraham Lincoln say that, or was it Bob Dylan (hic)?
Hear hear! K DD has yet to discover any actual proof that drunkenness is in any way detrimental to one’s well being. Although it IS hard to “discover” anything when all you do is lie face-down on the couch in your soiled bathrobe, occasionally fumbling for the remote. But still.