An Extremely Brief April Fool's Recap

A lot of different websites had various April Fool's pranks up yesterday. This one was my favorite. They really would make a fortune if this was possible.

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Hank For Senate

Just wanted to let you know that there is a cat running for the Senate in Virginia. That's right. A cat. His name's Hank. He even has a website. Hankforsenate.com. Yep. That's where we're at. I really don't know if this appalls me or if I'm totally in favor of it. I think it might be a little of both. I will cry if the cat wins, however. That would just show everyone just how far off the rails we've come if it gets to the point of electing felines to the Senate. Besides, would a cat really be any better than a person? How do we know he wouldn't just be another politician that tries to cover his s**t in the sand? Oh, wait. That's exactly what a cat does. Hmm....

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That's NOT Hitler!

I don't know if this is just one of the stupidest things that I've read in a while or if people are just getting stupider. I'm not sure which one it is because I'm having a hard time allowing myself to believe the validity of this article that I read in The Telegraph. Because if the article is true, then we as a people are completely doomed.

What we have is a cat. Well, a kitten to be more precise. The kitten was abandoned and ended up at the Wood Green animal shelter in someplace called Godmanchester. It's a cute kitten. But the shelter says that they're having a hard time finding a home for this particular animal. And considering that the shelter homes "five and a half thousand animals" every year, you'd think that finding a home for one kitten wouldn't be all that hard. That's where the stupidity comes in. They think that it's the kitten's "unusual" markings that are "putting people off". What markings, you ask? People think the kitten looks like Hitler. Behold!


Oh, for cryin' out loud. What?! That's right. Meet Kitler. (OK, the name cracks me up. Who would not want a cat named Kitler?! That's awesome! I might just name a cat that because it's funny. Kitler!) But I might be the only one who can see the awesomeness in all of this. Certainly, the morons who go to that particular shelter looking for an animal and pass over Kitler because of her markings are complete softheads. Besides, it doesn't REALLY look like Hitler! It just looks like it has a little moustache. Like Charlie Chaplin! Hitler really gave that style of facial hair a bad name.



And besides, it doesn't matter what the markings are, that doesn't mean the cat IS Hitler! THIS is Hitler! Behold!


There are SO many differences (and NONE of them are subtle) that I'm not even going to go into it. And I'm not saying that the shelter did the cat any favors by naming her Kitler, but I don't think it really matters. You have no idea how hard I am hoping that there is some other reason that this cat has not been adopted yet. Maybe it screeches uncontrollably at the sight of strangers. Maybe it smells like poo. Something. Anything! Anything other than people that think that it looks like freaking Hitler! See what I mean?! Doomed! We. Are. Doomed! Get 'em, kitty!

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Crazy Cat Lady Seeks Soulmate

This chick really wants a date. A soulmate, as she puts it. Let me just say that while she's cute and all, from what I can tell, she's pretty much destined to be alone with her zillions of cats that she will undoubtedly acquire. There are many types of crazy out there. Each one has a face. This type of crazy not only has a face, it has a video as well.

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Action Cat Theme Song

Does your cat need a theme song? What about some opening credits? You know, for the cat's non-existent TV show? Well, some guy has gone ahead and done just that. It doesn't hurt that his cat's name is Steve McQueen. It also doesn't hurt that the music is from the opening credits of MacGyver. It's amusing. And amusement never hurts.

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Best Picture On The Internet

According to the Internets, this is the best picture on the Internets. And while I can't totally agree with them, I'm finding it a little hard to outright disagree, you know what I mean? You will after careful consideration of what may actually be the best picture on the Internets. Behold!

See what I mean? Hard to know, really. Hard to know.

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Seven Years of the World's Cutest Kitten

Well, I think I lost a little bit of my soul today. Granted, I'm practically soulless as it is, but that's when you really notice that a little bit more of it has gone missing all of a sudden. Actually, this wasn't all of a sudden. No, there was a reason for this particular loss of soul. And it involved seventeen seconds and a little cat.

That's right. A little cat. A really cute, really little cat. (A little cat is also known as a kitten, by the way.) See, these folks posted this video on YouTube. It's titled, very simply "Surprised Kitten". And that's just what the video shows. It shows someone tickling the tiniest little kitten that you've ever seen. And when the person stop the tickling, the kitten throws all of it's paws back and it looks really, really surprised. It's quite adorable, I will admit. Behold! The cutest little cat that you'll see all day!

Aww. Wasn't that adorable? Of course it was! How many times did you watch it? Don't lie! I know it wasn't just once. I watched it three times before becoming despondent (more on that in a moment). The little tickling noise that the person (it sounds like it's a guy, but I'm not totally sure, but if it's a chick, I don't want to offend her by thinking that it's a guy because of those man hands in the video, so that's why I'm going with "person") is making is a bit annoying, but the cuteness of the kitten really cancels that out.

Here's the thing: I only clicked on this video because of two reasons. One, it was short. I have the attention span of a gnat and so something that was seventeen seconds long sounded right up my alley. But the real reason I clicked on it was the number of views that it had. At the writing of this post, that video, which was uploaded on October 13, 2009 (soooo....70 days ago) has been viewed a total of 13,005,536 times. Yes, that's million. Thirteen million times. Granted, that's not as many as Jill and Kevin's Wedding Entrance Dance which is currently clocking in at somewhere around 35 million (Good Lord..), but this cat didn't dance. All this cat did was look surprised. I think that had a lot to do with it. That dancing stuff, well, people like it.

But back to the loss of my soul. For some reason (and I do this on occasion) my mind snapped into math mode and I began calculating the time that has been spent watching that video of the little cat. I am well aware that time is relative and that there is no way that this figure that I came up with is indicative of the actual figure that it is. I get that. I'm not one of those people who takes statistics or figures and maniuplates what they are in order to meet their own needs or back up their own theories. Trust me when I say that is that last thing that I want to do. I think the majority of people are morons and that frightens me. Lord knows I really don't want that to be backed up by anything, got it? All right then.

13,005,536 views at 17 seconds per view comes out to 221,094,112 seconds. 221...million? Seconds? That comes out to be 3,684,902 minutes. (I rounded up from 3,684,901.86.) Now, I was a little hopeful at this point because 3.6 million minutes didn't sound as bad as 221 million seconds. Yes, I know that it's the same, but it just sounds better. Too bad it just all went downhill from there, though.

3,684,902 minutes is roughly 61,415 hours. Huh. That sounds like an awful lot of hours, doesn't it? Yep. That's because it is an awful lot of hours. It's also a lot of days, coming in at a total of 2559. Again, I rounded up from 2558.958, so don't send me emails telling me that I'm wrong. I'm not, but if you were thinking that I was, you're an ass.) And here's where it is truly frightening. 2559 days is 7.01 years. Watching. A. Cat.

Is this really what we should be doing with our time? I don't know, but it's not like we're going to stop any time soon. The thing is, that's just time that was spent watching that damn cat. Jill and Kevin's Wedding Entrance Dance was 5 minutes and 9 seconds long. Let's just round that down to five minutes for the sake of humanity, shall we? At 35 million views, that equates to 175,000,000 (that's million) minutes. 2,916,667 hours. 121,528 days. 332 years. Years. Three...how many? Three hundred and thirty two years worth of time spent watching Jill and Kevin and their friends boogie down the aisle toward wedded bliss to the song of a guy who beats up women. (That's not their fault, by the way, and they've raised a boatload of money for a charity that aims to prevent violence against women, so back off!)

I'm pretty sure that we should be doing something else, but I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what in the heck that should be. Oh, sure, curing cancer, healing the blind, those things come to mind, but there's only one problem with that. I don't know how to do those things! And I'm never going to know how to do those things. It's a little depressing, I realize that, but it's the truth. If you have cancer, don't turn to me for help because that would be a BIG mistake. I mean, if you want someone to hold your hand and tell you knock-knock jokes while you're having chemo, I'm your gal! Other than that, I'd look elsewhere.

But I'm more OK spending hundreds of years watching two people who are obviously in love and who are obviously having a great time on their wedding day than I am with spending seven years watching that little cat. Thus, the removal of part of my soul. ::: sigh ::: But dang it, that cat's cute. Let's watch it again!

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What in the Hell is Wrong With Reuters?

So, I'm flipping through the news online and I end up over there at Reuter's. Reuter's. Which bills itself as "...the world's leading source of intelligent information for businesses and professionals." They also claim to "...combine industry expertise with creative technology to deliver critical information to leading decision makers....powered by the world's most trusted news organization." Sounds pretty impressive, does it not? Not so fast.

So, the story that I had clicked on was titled "Car loses all four wheels on highway". Now, you can debate the newsworthiness of that all you'd like, but regardless of your conclusion, you'd still have to admit that it's interesting. All four wheels?! That's quite the feat! I'd say it's newsworthy. It's not worth leading off your newscast with or anything like that, but it could definitely make it's way into a news lineup, say, right before Britney Spears.

Apparently, what ended up happening was that the dumbasses who were in the car had changed the tired from the winter tires to the summer tires. They were in Switzerland, so with the drastic change in climate between those two seasons, one with a lot of snow and one with no snow, having two sets of tires and switching them out is pretty standard.

What's also pretty standard is that the correct type of nuts are used when mounting the new set of tires. And, according to a statement by the St. Gallen (that's in Switzerland) police, "When they then drove back on to the motorway, all of the wheels disconnected." Yes, I imagine that they would. Morons.

But what does any of that have to do with Reuter's? The picture that accompanied this brief tale of vehicular incompetence is where my annoyance with Reuter's began. Here's the smaller version. Behold!

Now, I realize that's a little hard to see, but that's kind of my point. Well, part of it, anyway. So when I saw that picture, I couldn't quite figure it out because it looked to me like there was a cat on top of that wheel. I read the story again and there was no mention of a cat AT ALL. Fortunately (or unfortunately, as I wanted to pound my head against a wall after I noticed that) I could click where it said "Enlarge" in order to do just that. Enlarge the photo. Hence the name. So I did. Behold!

That's when I realized that it is, indeed, a cat, yes a cat, a cat on a tire! And again, fortunately or not, this time there was a caption for the photo. It read: "A pet cat finds shelter on the wheel of a car which was temporarily abandoned by it owner in Karachi August 29, 1998." ::: blink::: ::: blink :::

Um, WTF?!?!

First of all, 1998?!?! You can't find a more recent picture of the wheel of a car than one from 1998?! Oh, wait. Let me rephrase that. You can't find a more recent picture of the wheel of a car than one from 1998...with a cat?!?! There were no photos of tires/wheels sans cats?!?! In the past eleven years?!?! The point of this story was that all of the wheels fell OFF! Right there, underneath that cat? That looks like wheel to me!

Second, I thought Karachi was an interesting name for a city or town in Switzerland. It didn't sound very Swiss. So I looked it up. IT'S IN PAKISTAN!! It wasn't even a cat on a tire in the right country!!

So Reuter's "the world's leading source of intelligent information for businesses and professionals" thinks that it's a good idea to include an eleven year old picture of a cat on a tire in Pakistan as the ONLY photo accompanying their story about a car that lost all four wheel on the highway in Switzerland?? They're the leading source?? Leading?! As in "others will follow"? THAT kind of leading?!

Leading us right off of a cliff from what I can tell. Maybe I'll start doing that. You know, just inserting random photos from decades earlier that have at least one thing to do with the story (as long as that thing is not the country that the story takes place in) but that also definitely include a cat. Maybe even change the name to "Random and Old Foreign Cats". Who knows? The possibilities are endless when you start delving in at this level of stupidity.

We're doomed. Doomed, I say.

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May The Four Ears Be With You

The Internet can accomplish a lot of things. It can take people who are hated locally and broadcast them to the world so that they can be hated globally. It can take a catchy, yet annoying, little tune and have it stuck in the heads of millions on a constant repetitive loop. It can take nothing more than an offhanded utterance of pure speculation on an obscure radio talk show in the Midwest to provoke the beginning of a chain email that will be circulated to every part of the planet before noon. The Internet can do all of those things and it can do them quite well. But the Internet can do one thing better than it can do all of those things put together. It can take a tale or a picture of an animal (usually an animal that does nothing more than just be an animal) and almost instantaneously, the Internet can turn that animal into a worldwide phenomenon. For no other reason than everyone feels the need to say, "Did you see the cat with four ears on the Internet?" To which others will naturally reply, "Wait. What?"

Meet Yoda. Yoda is a cat. Yoda is a cat with four ears. Yoda is an Internet superstar. Behold! A cat with four ears that everyone and their cousin knows about!

See, back in 2006, Ted and Valerie Rock found the four eared feline while watching a Bears game at a bar in Blue Island. For some unknown reason, a bunch of the bars patrons were passing around this little 8-week old kitten with four ears and calling it things such as "Devil Cat" and "Beelzebub". How charming. Fortunately for the cat with ears squared, the Rocks wanted to adopt him. More fortunate for the cat was that the owner of the bar agreed to let them adopt the cat. Up until then, the bar owner had kept the cat "in a cage atop the bar to amuse patrons". That according to the good folks over there at amNY. People at the bar must have been too drunk to realize that they had an Internet sensation just waiting to be born on their hands. How else could you just allow the cat to sit in a cage for drunken bar customer amusement? You couldn't. Morons.

The Rocks took the cat home and named him Yoda. I'm guessing that's because both of them have kind of pointy ears? I know that it's not because Yoda has four ears, because he doesn't. (Even if he did, what's anyone going to do about it? He's a Jedi Master, for cryin' out loud. He'd just light saber your ass into oblivion if you tried to put him in a cage atop a bar.) I thought I didn't like the name Yoda for a four eared cat (or any cat with any number of ears) until I learned that they were going to call the cat Barfly. Barfly (which, come on, looks a lot like just Barf. Your hear Barfly, you think Barf. You are Barfly, you do Barf. It's all quite simple.) only lasted for a day and then Yoda it was.

Not only can the Internet increase the popularity of a deformed, yet still adorable, animal, it can also increase the level of stupidity among those who book talk shows, those who watch talk shows and those who host talk shows. Yoda will be following in the footsteps of many now famous creatures before him (such as Princess Chunk, the 44-pound stray cat found wandering about one day) and appearing on the talk show circuit. "Good Morning America," "Fox News" and "The Tyra Banks Show" have all expressed interest at having Yoda, the four eared cat appear on their shows. It's unfortunate that they don't express interest in something having to do with news (well, except for Tyra. She gets a pass on this one. But only because she's not a "news" show, not because she thinks she's the next Oprah or anything. Please.) as opposed to parading out Feline DNA Gone Bad stories. "Good Morning America! Never mind the war in Iraq, we've got a cat with four freaking ears to talk endlessly about as if it were the most important thing ever!" Ugh.

But here's a head scratcher. The folks over there at The Daily Mail said, "If Batman had a cat, it would probably look something like this." And then there was a picture of Yoda the cat. If Batman had a cat? WTF, Daily Mail? So, a Bat Cat would have four ears be-caaauussee....? Do bats have four ears? Does Batman have four ears? Why would that be his cat? I don't get it.

And here's the other thing I don't get. Everyone keeps talking about the cat's hearing. Is his hearing normal? Is his hearing OK? Well, what would they expect his hearing to be like is what I want to know? I mean, if you have an extra set of ears, I don't imagine you'd think your hearing would be worse, would you? So do they want to know if he has super hearing? Like the Bionic Woman? I don't think the cat does, but how would you know? Actually, I can think of many experiments that could be implemented, (most of them involving an iPod, the theme from The Lion King and catnip) but it's probably just best left at believing his hearing is fine and he's not bionic.

(Ah, The Bionic Woman. I'm pretty sure I had a thing for Lindsay Wagner in the 1970s. I'm pretty sure I have a thing for Lindsay Wagner now. Just a second....yep. Still do! Sorry. I digress. Onward!)

And no inane Internet animal story would be complete without a ridiculous fact in the form of a quote. Valerie Rock said that Yoda is a totally normal cat with four ears. He's very affectionate and very sociable. All good to know, I guess. (Perhaps one would think a cat with four ears would have an attitude after being ridiculous by all of the bi-eared kitties in the neighborhood.) But then she throws in, "'But he does have an interesting obsession with bread - I can't leave bread on the counter for a moment." Huh? Bread? Are you sure you're feeding this cat?

So there you have it. Yoda, the real cat with four real ears who is really made-up phenomenon which will keep bazillions of Internet users and perusers entertained and thrilled for days on end. Then a 5 nosed cocker spaniel will pop up in Kansas and we'll forget all about ol' Yoda. (Internet users have a very short attention span. That and a need to constantly have deformed creatures dangled in front of them to mesmerize them like a shiny object. A simple bunch, just really needy is all.)

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Big Fat Cat Update

Stop the presses! I have an update on the owner of the BFC (Big Fat Cat) that was found waddling about the streets of New Jersey a few days ago and has since been making the rounds on the talk show circuit. (Yesterday, the BFC sat down the Regis & Kelly and tried to explain her situation. But then she realized that she was a cat and couldn't talk and thus, probably had no business being on a talk show to begin with. So she just sat there and looked fat. Really fat. Oh, my God, is that cat enormous.)

The owner has been found. It may or may not surprise you to learn that the owner of the BFC (nicknamed "Princess Chunk" by shelter workers who, apparently, couldn't think of anything better or that didn't include a royalty reference. Was the cat wearing a tiara when they found her? What's up with the 'Princess' moniker anyway?) is a 65 year old woman named Donna Oklatner. And if that didn't surprise you, I'll be that if you learned that the reason that the cat wasn't in her possession is because her house was foreclosed on. Ah, see? I was right. Surprise.

Yes, that is the reason given for why a BFC (which looks like it could be at least four cats in one, by the way) was on the loose without a collar. According to the fine folks over there at the New York Daily News, in her defense (and the beginning of her explanation), she said, "I would never abandon an animal. I gave it to a friend to give to a shelter. It's like giving babies to a hospital." Well, it's not exactly the same. Unless you've just expelled a 44-pound baby through your uterus and left it to wander about the streets on it's own. They're actually kind of different. Very. Very different.

Oklatner said that she fell behind on her mortgage payments, not because of buying food for the BFC, but because of credit card debt and medical bills. Uh-huh. You know, if I have a choice between paying part of my credit card bill or paying my mortgage, I'm going to choose the mortgage, hands down, probably every time. She didn't seem to look at it that way. Interesting choice.

She continued by saying, "After she was booted from her house, her husband ended up in a retirement home and she crashed with friends, keeping only her dog, Cody." Now, apparently the BFC has a normal sized brother, Puff. (And when I say "normal sized" I mean "sized like a cat and not a small bear") Oklatner manager to get a friend to take Puff, but surprisingly enough, the friend "couldn't" take the behemoth 44 pound BFC. Shocking, I know. But hey, she found a place for three of the four animals that she cared for. Cody, Puff and her husband all ended up with good homes.

So, since she couldn't find a place where she could shove the BFC in through the door, she "asked a friend to call the shelter" and say that she had found the BFC. Then the animal control officer came out and used a derrick (or something) to hoist the BFC into a dog carrier. And the next thing you know, the BFC's on Regis & Kitty Kelly. Good Lord, what a story.

I'm not sure that I buy the whole "my house was foreclosed on and so I had to get rid of my 44 pound cat by having a friend pretend to find her so that the overcrowded shelter will take the BFC" story. Wouldn't most people who were going to let someone hang at their place because they lost their house, prefer a cat over a dog? Granted, the dog looks like it could be an appetizer for the BFC. But in general. A dog over a cat? That almost never happens. Something is weird about the story and I'm sure that we'll find out about it in a few days. Probably after Dateline NBC does an investigative report into the BFC's metabolism and "life before the shelter". You know it's coming.

Actually the good people over yonder at the Courier Post Online reported on this story (as did every other publication online and in print did as well) and in their article, Oklander's story is just a little different in a few places. See, and things like this don't seem like they should be all that complicated. Makes you wonder why the two stories are different, doesn't it? (Of course it doesn't. That's because you and I totally know something is up with this broad and the rest of the whole BFC thing to begin wtih. We don't know what, but we know we're onto something.)

There is one other bit of information about the BFC that is rather important. The BFC's real name is "Powder". Not Princess Powder. Not The Duchess of Powder. Just Powder. Powder, it turns out, couldn't be a princess. Powder, it turns out, would have to be a prince. That's correct. The BFC is so B and so F that they incorrectly determined that it was a "she" due to the apparent absence of that which would have made it a "he". Powder is so freaking big that the forty four pounds of feline fat covered up the, uh, frontal lobe (if you will) to the point where it was like it wasn't even there. Wow.

So in just one week, the BFC went from having a home to living in a shelter, from being relatively unknown to appearing on talk shows and from being a female to being a male. Well, that's a busy week for any human, let alone a cat. Good luck, Powder Pounder.

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That Cat Won't Fit In The Hat

In New Jersey, a cat, (yes, a cat!), a cat was found walking around without a collar and it was taken to the local animal shelter. I'm sure you can guess that there has to be more to this story than just that. (Of course there is! I'm not mental.) And there is more. A lot more. Like 44 pounds more. Correct. The cat weighs 44 pounds. Behold! The 44 pound cat!

Holy cats (oh, pun ab-so-lutely intended). OK, that is a BFC (Big Fat Cat) if I have ever seen one. The head is so disproportionate to the rest of the body that it just looks ridiculous. It's like if someone got their Garanimals tags all mixed up and put the cat with the cow and ended up with the catcow. (That, of course, provided that you actually could tag animal body parts in a Garanimal like fashion. And I really don't think that's a good idea. I mean, my God, look at the cat! SO many things could go wrong with a system like that. It's probably best just to leave the animals how they are and not do ANY mixing and matching. Ever. But I digress.)


The workers at the animal shelter have nicknamed the cat "Princess Chunk", which is just about the stupidest name that they could have thought up. I'm not saying I could do much better, but I would definitely leave the implied royalty out of it. "Princess"? Why not "The Queen of Unlean"? "The Duchess of Muchess"? "Mama Cass"? So many better names that could have been chosen.

The BFC's owner has until Saturday to reclaim her. Those at the shelter, being masters of the obvious, believe that the BFC "is a domestic cat who escaped from her home or was abandoned by her owner." Really?! A "domestic cat", eh? Are you sure that she's not some wild feline from an open African range? Maybe a big-boned ocelot? And she's not a saber toothed tiger or something like that? For reals? Wow. It's a good thing they cleared that up for us. A "domestic cat." Brilliant.

If, barring the unforeseen unlikelihood that her owners do NOT notice her missing, and they haven't shown up by Saturday, the BFC is up for grabs! Or up for forklifting, as I don't think grabbing would be very effective. In the meantime, the shelter is going to speak to a veterinarian about putting the BFC on a diet. According to Deborah Wright, a volunteer at the animal shelter and another master of the obvious, "Chunk's diet consists of dry and wet cat food." Uh-huh. As opposed to what else?! NO kidding! Geez. In other news, the sun? Still hot. Water? Still wet. Back to you.

And although the BFC is huge, she's not the fattest cat on record. No, those folks over at Guinness who used to keep track of animal oddities say that the largest tabby on record, who lived in Australia and died during the 1980s, weighed 46 pounds, 15 ounces. Guinness does not keep track of animal world records any more out of fears that people would intentionally be doing things to their animals in order to get a world record. (That sort of logic leads me to the natural conclusion that someone was caught doing something just like that. Probably feeding Fido a big tub of lard three times a day with steroid injections in between.) So the BFC can get to be as B of an FC as she wants, there won't be any world records waiting for her at the end of that meal. Or something like that. But here's where things start to get a little weird.

Now, if you were a BFC and you had to wait around for days for your owners to show up and cart you off back home, you'd need a way to kill some time, right? Given as how the shelter workers seem intent on putting the BFC on a diet, it's not like she can spend her days constantly eating (which would seem to be how she must have been spending her days, and probably a few nights, before arriving at the shelter). So the BFC needs a new gig to keep her busy until then. So, tomorrow, she'll fill that gap by going on Regis and Kelly and then Friday she'll hit the set of Good Morning America and then the Today show. Wait. What?

Correct. The BFC is making the rounds on the morning talk shows. Can the BFC talk as well as eat?! I don't think so! Whose freaking idea was this?! And what if the BFC's owners show up to claim her. "I'm sorry folks. The BFC is caramelizing a creme brulee with Rachel Ray on "Ellen". Can you come back later? Oh, but not too soon. She's having dinner with Oprah and Gayle." We are a sad and all too easily entertained society. :::sigh:::

Although the shelter workers are the masters of the obvious and have stated their theories on how the BFC came to be "lost", they don't understand how it could happen at all. Professed the same Deborah Wright, "I'm about to put a leash on her and walk her. She could pass for a dog! I mean, how do you lose a 44-pound cat?" And I agree with that statement, but I think there's a fairly simple explanation for what happened.

The BFC ate her owners. Hopefully, the shelter workers and whoever books cats on talk shows are next.

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