Thursday, 28 June 2007


Is that what happened to mother? Did she fly away? I thought she had angel wings but why would she use them to fly away from me? I thought I remember her saying she'd come back, so I've been trying to make angel wings too so I can fly away with her, but that bouncy mother didn't have any wings. I'm confused. Did mother have wings? Do I need wings?

Where's mother? You look like mother. Are you my mother?

Mother really can fly!

flying bunny gif

Wednesday, 27 June 2007

The conspiracy unfolds

OK. What is it with the humans and bells? I bet you it'll be tags next. The male is obsessed with tags. Sometimes, though, I wonder. "Captain" Jack keeps insisting that I've been "cheeped." I used to think he was just a bit weird but maybe he's Russian. Maybe he's laughing because I'm "chipped." I've heard of cats being chipped. Once, in the holding pens, they took me to a "vet". I fell mysteriously asleep and when I woke up there was a lump between my shoulder blades, right where I can't get it. Ever since then, the aliens have been tracking me. Even if I hide beneath a car and cover the transmitter in oil, they can still scan me. Betrayed I tell you and now the bells mean that I can't even get in and out of the catflap without cat of very little brain jumping on me for a game of "Punch Mr Desh." What did I do to deserve this?
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Monday, 25 June 2007


Mr Woman's gone and Mr Man's put the stix away. Nobody loves me! Mr Desh's bells are silent. All I can hear is the clack, clack, clack of Mr Man on the whirry thing.

Someone let me have stix! Please!
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Saturday, 23 June 2007

Home Alone

oooooooooooooooooooooooosadsadsad. Today, Mr Man and Mr Woman went out - and they stayed out all day! And then Mr Desh went out as well! I was left all on my own! ooooooooooooooononononononnonono no nono nono no no no ooo o o z oo z ooo zz ooo zzzzzzzzzzzzz oo zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

but then they came back! Mr Desh was still out though. He's a stealth cat. I couldn't find him anywhere. But he does love me, I know he does because while everyone was sleeping this afternoon, he brought a present from outside - a birdie! He knows I want to make a pair of angel kitty wings -

and he brought me a birdie! Mr Desh is great. He's really clever. So I tried to make birdie feathers into wings. It was really hard, though. I don't think it worked very well.

Mr Desh, can I have another one, please?

Friday, 22 June 2007


Stix! Gotta have stix. Stix up and down the stairs.
Stix! Stix!
Stix, Mr Man! Stix! need stix.
Can't settle til I've had stix.
Catz need stix.
I need stix.
Crunch and sticky and bitey and chasey!
need stix.
Tired now.
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My nemesis

Everywhere I go, I hear it. The endless, gruesome, high-pitched cheeping. Not a moment's peace. I ask you, what have I done to deserve it. Admittedly I ate his mate. And chicks. But what am I meant to do? I'm a formula one cat. I have fuel needs. It isn't easy being a plush stealth cat, you know. Least they didn't go to waste.

I suppose his gran was a bit lacking on the eating front but I did my best. His cousins had almost nothing on them. The in-laws were good though, I enjoyed them. You would think I would get a little gratitude, but no. Just the incessant cheeping. I had my eye on a good plump pigeon yesterday, got myself nicely into position and who should show up and make a racket?

Yes, you guessed it. Captain Jack. The sparrow that never shuts up. At this rate I'll have to resort to eating the oh-so-ironically named Wellbeloved nubbles that the humans seem to think passes for food fit for a stealth cat.
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Monday, 18 June 2007


Definitely not orange

Srealth cat

If I were orange I wouldn't blend so perfectly. I'm a stealth cat. I'm a stealth cat without a bib.
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Feeling funky

Every morning, Mr. Woman goes to the end of the hall and disappears out into the light and noise. I have to spend hours looking out for her and it makes my head feel funny. Mr. Desh always says not to worry because at least it isn't affecting anything important. That's a relief. Mr. Desh always knows what to say to make me feel better.
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Sunday, 17 June 2007


I wanna be a lolcat. Therez lodsa them on Flickr. This one makes me think of Mr. Desh.
Mr. Desh says there's loadsa alienz out dere and he's been collecting the silver balls so that he can make a helmet. Sometimes he stays beneath cars for hours and looks a bit disturbing. Then again, he hasn't been quite the same since Mr Man and Mr Woman started giving him the white pills. He hasn't cuffed me for ages and he is getting awful big.


The bib is history. I had to work at it but at least I got a good covering of cat oil in the process. I may be filthy but I'm gorgeous. Unlike that loser, Oscar.

Meals on wings, here I come. Ain't no stopping me now. Two magic pills a day. I've got an urge to hunt me some bears. Lotsa mighty fine eatin onna bear.

Friday, 15 June 2007

Super Desh!

My happy cat
Mr Desh has got a cape! Doesn't it make him look special! I love Mr. Desh even though he is a slavering cyclepath. I've never seen him ride a bike but Mr. Man calls him that so it must mean something.

The final indignity

Thursday, 14 June 2007

Cyclopean fears

You see the humans think that Ash is "kyoot." They're fooled by his harmless meeping, his pretending that he has forgotten how to use the cat flap and his love of shiny things but they're wrong.

He's a monster. See, the proof is in the photo - one single, staring eye. The eye of evil. The eye that gives me no peace. The eye of a fiend that whispers "catbib" into their ears while they sleep. I will not rest until the truth is revealed.

I have no faith in medicine

Says it all. Huh.

Tuesday, 12 June 2007


Two Vine Weevil, the grand high vizier grinned ominously as Sha-Dow took the cup. “You will not enjoy this but, rest assured, I will,” he cackled.

Sha-Dow held the foaming mug gingerly. He knew that the Vizier was up to something but the butterfly witch had warned him that if didn’t drink that he would not be able to complete his mission. He also knew that he must give Weevil no hint that he suspected the truth. Bravely, he said, “My mother always told me that the best medicine always tastes the worst.”

“Drink your medicine, then, and thank her for her wisdom.” Weevil spat out the last word derisively but Sha-Dow pretended not to notice. Instead he simply said “tails up” and downed it one.

The noxious liquid burned in his mouth. He felt his eyes water and it was all he could do to keep it down. He so badly wanted to be sick but with a tremendous force of will he kept it down.

“Any more where that came from?” Sha-Dow’s bravery cost him dear, coughs wracked his body and he felt himself sinking to his knees.

“What’s the matter little grey princeling?” The Vizier taunted him. “No strength in your legs? Feel like a little sleep?” He giggled like a giddy girl.

Sha-Dow could hardly keep his eyes open and the roaring in his ears all but drowned out the Vizier’s words. He must stay awake long enough. It all depended on him but did he have the strength? He was starting to black-out. The Vizier was saying something but he couldn’t hear! He could almost feel his old Sensei, Oran JeDesh, cuff him impatiently. JeDesh! The Vizier had mentioned JeDesh. Sha-Dow tried to concentrate.

“…your sensei won’t be able to save you now, not while he’s trapped in the well of…”.

Sha-Dow could not hold on any longer. He must remember what little he had heard. The well. JeDesh was down a well.

As the world went dark he tried to bite down on the potion hidden in his cheek. He was so weak, he could hardly move his mouth. He must! He must!

“What’s that little Sha-Dow? Trying to say something? Do you honestly think I didn’t know the Butterfly Witch’s plan?” The Vizier giggled as Sha-Dow breathed one, last time. Then, everything went black.

Monday, 11 June 2007

Pink Passion Mobile

I'm sending this from my secret lair. I've heard rumours that the mysterious Pink Home of Doom is on the move. Even Ash has scarpered. He may be a cat of remarkably little brain but he has occasional insights.

Last time the PHD came out I woke up later with stitching all over my chest and a whole bunch of pills with my name on them. Actually, I reckon the body art isn't so bad; it shows off my masculine chest. Quite tribal if I say so myself. And you should see my shoulders. I've got into weight training recently and even the fat ginger tarts are impressed.

I'm going to be BIG. BIG I tell you. BIG.

Ahem, sorry, got a little carried away there. I've been feeling a bit strange since the humans changed my pills. My grammar sense seems to be malfunctioning. Not even very interested in flying crunchies. Just want to pump iron. Wanna get physical. Wanna be so macho. Gonna grow me a tache and get some leather chaps. Pump it baby! Yeah! I'm a tiger!

Midday update: Ash just came running up to tell me that they've got me a cape. A cape? So I did some research. And now I'm depressed. They can't expect me to wear THAT thing down there. I tell you, someone's going to pay.


You know, I think these humans are on a long campaign of testing my self-esteem. They're doing this by inflicting any indignity they can come up with onto me. Any they're inventive, I'll give them that. Evidence:

1: after the first vet visit, I got a slave collar to wear. And a shaved bit on my leg.
2: after this, I was given pills to take.
3: then, after my itchy skin thing, and another vet visit, I ended up with another shaved patch, this time on my neck, and I ended up wearing a blue baby t-shirt which read "Babes Dig Me". I also had cream, which turned the remaning fur into stiff stubble.
4: then, as the itchiness didn't go away with this miracle treatment, and after developing a bit of a trout pout, I ended up with two sets of pills. And a re-shave on the neck. Oh, and a short wearing of the slave collar, for a bit of variety.

So, I take myself off outside from time to time and have a bit of a play with the birds to distract myself from these multiple indignities. And what happens? THIS, WHICH ARRIVED IN THE MAIL TODAY:

Friday, 8 June 2007

Wednesday, 6 June 2007

The latest horror

For the love of Darwin. The humans have me on pills, now. I tried to tell them, way back in the rescue centre. "I'm gorgeous", I told them, "but take me, and I'll kill all the birds in your neighbourhood and bleed you dry with unfeasibly huge vet bills." Fools. They went for me anyway. Mind you, Cat of Little Brain came too, so I guess they had the last laugh after all.

Now they are throwing pills down my neck, in the vain hope that it will cure my itchy skin. Actually, it does seem to be feeling somewhat better. But did I hear the female correctly? She said they were steroids. They are!

Ha! Looks like my near future may be big - very big - massive, in fact...

The solution

Mr. Man is being strange again. He's not been very happy with Mr. Desh recently and keeps muttering about catbibs and calling him a "slavering psychopath." I don't know what one of them is but it doesn't sound too good. Anyway, I spotted Mr. Man looking into his mind control machine (the whirry thing that controls his hands and keeps making him put me down when I jump up to try to save him) and he suddenly said "You reek Ash". Least that's what it sounded like. Rather rude really.

I tried to get a look at what it was that he saw but it didn't mean much to me. I had to keep covering my eyes in case I saw a rude word. Anyway, after that he started "surfing" for photos of "big fat orange cats".

I thought that was a photo of mother at first.

Mother. Where did she go? Must be brave. Mr. Desh is counting on me. Brave heart, little Ash.

Anyway, Mr. Man kept offering Deshar lots and lots of food. He even had a pack of waffer thin mints. Mr. Desh is doing his best to eat it all because Mr. Desh is strong and brave and hasn't eaten any meals on wings for minutes now. It is making him groan though and it makes me scared to go in the kitty litter afterwards.

By the way, Mr. Desh, what is a "bullpenis"?

Tuesday, 5 June 2007

Fighting crime

Ooh Mr. Desh, I heard the humans saying that you're going to get a cape. Won't that be neat? You can go out at night fighting crime and I'll be your loyal sidekick - Ash, the cat wonder.

I bet you're really looking forward to that.

Monday, 4 June 2007

Sunday, 3 June 2007

I'm a sparkly kitty!!


Add Glitter to your Photos

I am not ginger!

Great. Look what just turned up in the mail.


Dexter Jeebus has invited Deshar to join the Catster Group called Brilliant Orange Cats Unite!

Here is the group's welcome introduction:
Greetings! Everyone knows that Orange (Ginger, Red...) felines are a breed all their own....
Yippee? I'll have you know that I am a cinnamon and honey complexioned cat. I am not ginger. I am not red and I am most definitely not orange. Why on earth the humans signed me up to this Catster business, I don't know. It's not as if I don't have enough on my plate with the small grey cat of little brain following me everywhere. Now I've been enrolled into some sort of ginger clan.

I'm going to sit on the roof where there's no wifi, no Ash and no ginger cats. Just me and the sky. Actually, if I say so myself, I look rather fine up here. Perhaps I'll post a photo to the group. Just so I can explain why it is that honey and cinnamon is not at all like orange.

Mother can fly!

Friday, 1 June 2007

Come back Mr. Woman!

Where did she go? She's disappeared like my mother and now Mr. Man is keeping me hard at work, holding down the chairs, guarding the door, cleaning the dinner plates and I never even get a squeeze for it all. Not even a "that'll do, little Ash" nor a brief pat on the head. All the doors are closed and whenever I ask politely for just a little, tiny bit of food that noise the machine in his study makes just gets louder. It's as if he can't hear me. Perhaps he's in an alternate dimension in there. I tried pressing hard against the wall to see whether he could somehow sense my presence but to no avail.

I have noticed that he has some sort of strange growth in his ears. Ever since Mr. Woman went away, they've sprouted madly. That must be why Mr. Woman chops his ears with the clipper thing and now she's gone away. Oh no! Maybe he's going to die because the ear fungus is taking over him.
Mr. Man! Alarm!
Where's Deshar? He's on the roof and he can't hear me up there! Oh no! Why does Mr. Desh do that? He knows he can't hear me up there but he still goes up there. Mr. Desh would know what to do!
Mr. Desh!
Mr. Man!
Mr. Man's ears are dying!!
Help! The door's closed!!!
Mr. Man! Mr. Man!

I'm hungry now! All this work has worn me out. Perhaps if I just curl up outside this door here and try to sleep then, when I wake up, it will all have been a bad dream and Mr. Woman will be back with mother she'll save Mr. Man from the Ear Fungus and Deshar will come down from the roof and we'll all be together and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz