huh. Is it that ring of muscle that they call the hymen that is supposed to stretch out? Yours just doesn’t stretch? Or something else? Because if it is, mine doesn’t stretch.

So, like, this ring. Can you explain?

And renovation shows. Renovations all day everyday. Good Lord, the renovations and the tiny houses and the homes that I don’t live in but get to see on TV. It’s an addiction.

THEY HAVE TINY HOUSES SHOWS AND I HATE IT WHEN THEY PLAY ANYTHING ELSE.

I love cats. I love their very very different personalities. I love their refusals to be touched. I want to snuggle them all. ALL.

BUT IT’S ALL SO CUTE

Basically. My mom tried to move her into picture range and she started meowing and I was like, “MOM. STOP. SHE’LL DO WHAT SHE WANTS. LEAVE IT.” And my mom just kind of laugh like, So the others are forcibly squished and held down and thrown around but she can do whatever whenever? And I simply say, Yes.

If any of them would cut me, it would be her. She will be the one to eat me if I die in the house and no one finds my body for a while. She is perfect and beautiful.

BOTH.

OH.MY GOSH. I NEED THAT HAT AND THAT CAT.

Just lightly set it on his head and slowly walk away without breathing. Then take the pictures as quietly as possible.

I believe I included it. I haven’t gotten them yet, they’ll be ready sometime next week. I checked and yes, I included it. It’s on the back with this message:

Those ears? Not his ears. The hat’s ears.

Basically, if I weren’t such a normally good mom, they would not have put up with the shit I pulled. But I’m VERY indulgent with them so they are indulgent with me. AND THEY ARE ADORABLE, THANK YOU. THEY KNOW IT, TOO.

LOL, that is perfect caption. Thank you. I am dying. I can’t stop laughing and my back is cramping.

So, my dad was the photographer and my mom was his assistant and I had shopped SPECIFICALLY for costumes for this photoshoot and forced my fantastic roommate to wear her red sweater and I had bought little clip on poinsettias to put on collars on the cats and ribbons and sweaters and all this shit. Also, I made those…

SO.PROUD. OF THE BOWTIE!!!! SO PROUD!! Neither of my cats are proud of their bowties. But they wear them for a while.

I framed it.

It is very hard because I, too, want to scoop them up and snuggle their heads all the time. But the girl, Lady Penelope, does not enjoying being scooped up. And she is a Lady from England and her wishes must be respected. Therefore I must simply squeal at her and admire from afar. And by afar I mean two inches from…

I DID PICS OF MY CATS, TOO! AND OF MY ROOMMATE AND I!! Here is one of them: