The Zeus Excuse

Bleh

2007-08-30T04:51:00.001-07:00

After last night, I don't think the human pet will be letting me on the computer anytime soon. I chewed through a shoe, puked on the bed, and then puked the length of the hallway to show her I meant business about this blog. I was merely trying to point out to her to let me back online, but I think my plan of protest backfired.

What happened to you?

2007-08-20T04:58:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

I know, I know. It's been more than a week since an update, and I'm sure some of you have been wondering what happened to me. Well, life has been more than busy on this end. With the beginning of the school year and housecleaning, as well as a few meetings here and there, the human pet has issued a lock down on the computer. I'm lucky that I even got to the keyboard this morning!

Isis and I are doing well so have no worries. We promise we will write again soon, but as always, keep in mind we're at the whims of our pet. Clearly, we need to revisit who is in charge here.

Flea Games, Chapter 12: The Novice

2007-08-11T00:00:00.000-07:00

Previous Chapter(s):

Stealth is the key to any successful scouting mission, and there are several main points in achieving this skill. Maintaining a limited amount of noise and attempting to remain down-wind so one's scent does not alert the enemy can save a scout's hide. Also, rushing through the job is not recommended. A scout's best ally is the terrain, and she should always try to use the landscape to her advantage, never silhouetting herself as her enemy might potentially spot her.

All of these would have been wonderful tips for Isis to know prior to her mission.

The microwave clock ticked by ever so slowly as Isis sat and watched the minutes linger. Nine minutes had passed, and it had been excruciating for her. She had scratched her ears, stretched, gotten up to swat at her own tail, and had even reached for leftover milk jug rings under the refrigerator; however, none of these tactics had really made the time go any faster for her.

When the tenth digitally blue minute had ticked, Isis bounded for the garage, screaming in a loud voice, "I'ma scoutin' now, bitches!"

Had she been able to see the look on her brother's face, she might have realized her mistake in announcing her oncoming arrival to the garage.

Bursting through the pet door, Isis leaped into the darkness of the garage. The heat was practically stifling, but she did not let this bother her. There was work to be done, important work that only she could do. It was her one chance to prove to her brother that she was indeed just as cunning as he was.

Isis padded softly across the warm concrete and headed for the washer and dryer located in the left-hand corner. She leapt up on top of the washer and circled a few times to make it appear as though she were settling down for a nap. After bathing her front paws a few times and rubbing the sides of her face, she laid her head upon her front legs and closed her eyes. If all went well, whatever was inside the garage would believe her to be sleeping, and she could discover the truth behind the sneeze that so intrigued her brother.

Time seemed to slow down exponentially as soon as her lids had closed. What had seemed like such a brilliant plan was soon to be Isis' downfall as her natural instincts took over. Her breathing slowed, her eyes fluttered, and soon, her whiskers swayed back and forth as her soft snores purred from her.

"No...worries," she whispered half to herself as she came closer to deep sleep. "The monsters will believe...this...for sure..."

The last thing Isis heard before she fell asleep was the softest pitter-patter as over one million feet marched across the concrete straight for her.

Thursday Thirteen, Edition #37

2007-08-09T01:09:00.000-07:00

Thirteen Ways For Me
To Make Money For My Human Pet

1. I could organize a feline harem, rounding up the strays that prowl my neighborhood, and putting them to work on the street corners.

2. I could sell my sister, Isis, off to the highest bidder.

3. I could shave my fur and put it up for auction on eBay.

4. I could set up my own store via Cafe Press and sell Zeus Excuse memorabilia.

5. I could write a novel.

6. I could replicate crop circles in my litter, take photos, and sell them off to the public.

7. I could join the circus as The Amazing Snoring Zeus: Snores so loud, they shake the very fabric of your being!

8. I could tour again with my lounge singer act: Zelvis.

9. I could work as an English interpreter for The Feline Theocracy.

10. I could have my sister work at a local bakery to knead dough with her claws instead of kneading holes in my throne.

11. I could open up an exterminator business for local homes. Bugs don't stand a chance!

12. I could enter the National Spelling Bee and clean house!

13. I could stand at street intersections, with rags in paw, wiping the windshields of cars passing by for donations. I'm sure the very fact that I am willing to get wet for my pet will be more than enough for money to flow.

Quit monkeying around!

2007-08-08T00:23:00.001-07:00

Within India, there exists a coexistence and a conflict between the Hindus and Muslims. Identity is no longer determined by the various social groups one may belong to such as gender or race but rather, simply by which religion a person practices. Perhaps the problem is one of liberal versus extremist, but nonetheless, the focus of the prejudice and animosity is a matter of faith for most people.

Imagine my surprise then, dear friends, when I saw the following:

Upon watching this, I couldn't help but hear Tina Turner singing in my head, "What's love got to do, got to do with it?"

And really: What does love got to do with it?

Did anyone ask these two monkeys if they were seriously committed to one another?

Did anyone ask them if they were alright in becoming spokesprimates for the entire Hindu-Muslim conflict?

Did someone inform them of their obligations and responsibilities as religious diplomats and agents of peace?

Clearly, though, the more important issues were taken care of first: calls to Cover Girl for the inside scoop as to which long-lasting, cream-based eyeshadows were appropriate for this time of year and research with Bride Magazine as to the latest monkey couture wedding dresses.

Humans, humans, humans...

When will you get it through your thick skulls that just because two monkeys get married doesn't mean their poop suddenly stops getting thrown at you the very next day?

And what exactly would that mean for the already troubled Hindu-Muslim relations?

Nothing but more crap.

Flea Games, Chapter 11: Sister Scout

2007-08-04T22:58:00.001-07:00

Previous Chapter(s):

After dinner had finished, Zeus lumbered over to the living room to lay down upon his throne: the green patterned slip-covered sofa. His belly now full, he let his mind return to the mysterious sneeze and pondered the possibility that there might be trouble afoot within his domain. Releasing a yawn and licking his front paws casually, he considered what his next course of action should be.

As Isis walked by the sofa to stretch out on her back underneath the mosaic coffee table, he said to her, "I believe you should go on a scouting mission, Isis."

Isis' eyes grew wide, and her ears perked as she turned her attention to Zeus. "A scouting mission? It sounds...dangerous!"

Zeus nodded. "It is, but we need more information. I am sure it is nothing you could not handle. I'd do it myself, but one should wait four hours after eating and drinking to perform scouting missions."

Isis looked at him curiously. "I ate too," she said questioningly.

"You have a smaller stomach. Therefore, it's only ten minutes," he explained.

"Oh, that makes sense," she said as she nodded. Zeus smiled softly. Manipulating his sister was his finest art form.

He then began instructing her: "Stay low and hidden. Make no noise. Keep your eyes and ears alert. You'll have to report back to me everything you observe so I hope you have a good memory. Can you do that?"

Isis sat at attention and brought the tip of her tail to her forehead as she lifted her chin, stating, "Yes SIR!"

Zeus nodded, holding back his laughter. "Good. Wait ten minutes and then make your way to the garage."

If Isis did even a somewhat decent job, he would have a better idea of what he was up against. Granted, he could have gone into the garage himself, but what creature, big or small, would suspect anything malicious or deviant from his deranged sister? No one ever took crazies seriously.

Adjustment

2007-08-03T12:25:00.000-07:00

Change is inevitable.
Change is unavoidable.
Change is irrevocable.
Change is undeniable.

The House now empty,
Save for three.
Open space to run,
To be carefree.

Change is forceful.
Change is powerful.
Change is hopeful.
Change is truthful.

Noises never heard,
now quite apparent.
Darkness descends,
the feeling abhorrent.

Change is instructional.
Change is causal.
Change is informational.
Change is final.

Uncomfortable newness,
the unfamiliar familiar.
Rooms once known
now bend and falter.

Change is revealing.
Change is compelling.
Change is inducing.
Change is telling.

Each day will be brighter,
the rain will pass.
Portend events:
all smiles, lass.

The seventh Pussycat Doll unleashed

2007-08-02T00:07:00.000-07:00

I know you like me. (I know you like me.)
I know you do. (I know you do.)
Thats why whenever I come around, that cat's all over you.
And I know you pet me. (I know you pet me.)
It's easy to see (It's easy to see.)
And in the back of your mind
I know you should be home with me.

[Chorus]
Dont cha wish your kitty was hot like me?
Dont cha wish your kitty was a freak like me?
Dont cha, dont cha
Dont cha wish your kitty was raw like me?
Dont cha wish your kitty was fun like me?
Dont cha, dont cha

Fight the feeling (Fight the feeling.)
Leave it alone. (Leave it alone.)
Cause if it ain't love
It just aint enough to bring me to a happy home
Let's keep it friendly. (Let's keep it friendly.)
You have to play fair .(you have to play fair.)
See, I dont care,
But I know your other cat won't wanna share.

[Chorus]
Dont cha wish your kitty was hot like me?
Dont cha wish your kitty was a freak like me?
Dont cha, dont cha , baby
Dont cha wish your kitty was raw like me?
Dont cha wish your kitty was fun like me?
Dont cha, dont cha

I know I'm on your mind
I know we'll have a good time
I'm your friend
I'm furry
And I'm fine
I aint lying
Look at me,
you aint blind

See, I know she loves you. (I know she loves you.)
I understand. (I understand.)
I'd probably be just as crazy about you
If you were my human.
Maybe next lifetime (maybe next lifetime)
Possibly (possibly)
Until then, Oh friend your secret is safe with me.

[Chorus]
Dont cha wish your kitty was hot like me?
Dont cha wish your kitty was a freak like me?
Dont cha, dont cha
Dont cha wish your kitty was raw like me?
Dont cha wish your kitty was fun like me?
Dont cha, dont cha

Kruise kontrol

2007-07-31T11:15:00.000-07:00

Dear felines and human pets,

Heed this warning:

Don't f*** with the homo sapien known as Tim Kruise.

(I'd write his real name, but I am fearful of the repercussions!).

(And if you don't know what to fill in for the *'s up above, simply use the word 'mess'!)

This cat has Hollywood, and everyone around him for that matter, under his mighty thumb. The latest scandal involved two men attempting to extort one million dollars from Kruise for his wedding photos. Apparently, Kruise has connections to the FBI since reports say he contacted them to discover who was behind this conspiracy.

Connections to the FBI?

Am I the only feline who finds that almost absurd?

I wonder how the conversation went...

Kruise: "Yes, I need to speak to one of your agents immediately!"

FBI Operator: "Hello, and thank you for calling the Federal Bureau of Investigations. Due to high call volume, your call will be answered in the order in which it was received. Please stay on the line, and a customer service representative will be with you shortly. Thank you."

Kruise: "Screw that! I'm Tim Kruise! I get what I want when I want it!"

FBI Operator: "...Unless your name is Tim Kruise, in which case, please enter the secret Kruise code to overwrite this message."

Kruise: "Let's see...that would be M-I-4...so 6-4-4..."

FBI Operator: "Thank you, Mr. Kruise. We are now directing you to Thom Mrozek's office."

I wish I had a private line to the FBI for when litter hit the fan. It must be nice to not have to wait for justice: Having to navigate the long trails of paperwork, jumping across red tape and through hoops just to have someone pay attention to your pleas. It must also be hugely comforting to the American public that while murderers, rapists, and child molesters run free, the FBI is hard at work on this case.

I know that makes me feel better sleeping at night!

A great big purr to the following...

2007-07-30T00:21:00.000-07:00

The following people deserve a round of thanks for helping make my first Blogathon a tremendous success:

Andrew Odlum: Thanks for being a terrific monitor and keeping me inspired when times were tough!

The Meezers: Thank you for being so supportive and encouraging! Every comment you left kept me going!

Beau, The Cat Realm, Simba, and others: Thank you for leaving so many questions! I don't know that I could have come up with ideas to post had it not been for you!

Pablo and Sparky Duck: Thank you for coming by in the early hours and cheering me on!

KC, Hot(M)BC, and Morgen: Thank you for spreading the word and bringing people and kitties to the blog!

Craaky: Thank you for continually texting my human pet so she could keep me awake! Let's not forget the great Waterboy clips either!

And finally...

Thank you to all of my sponsors!

Your giving nature helped make this event what it was, and I could not be happier to have had your support. I could not have done this without you, and so for opening your pockets and giving from the heart, I thank you!

Zeus has left the computer...

2007-07-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

Our grand total raised for Blogathon '07:

My first Blogathon has come and gone, and I can honestly say that I have never been so proud of both myself and my readers / sponsors. I learned a lot from this experience, and I hope that next year, I can do even better. So many fantastic bloggers out there with terrific ideas...have no fear! I took notes!

I have so many people that I would love to thank, but right now, you'll have to excuse me because I am too tired to remember everyone. It would kill me to skip over someone inadvertently. Expect many heartfelt thanks when I wake up!

And seeing as though I had promised my pet her hoodie from Blogathon headquarters, I have placed my order. The pet deserves it for allowing me the use of her computer for 24 hours. I know that was hard for her.

So in short, I believe the following sums up Blogathon '07 for me:

10 cans of Diet Coke..........$5.00
McDonald's for the pet..........$6.79
Purina One for me..........$13.00
48 posts..........Free
Having the chance to make a difference..........priceless

Flea Games, Chapter 10: Assembling the troops

2007-07-29T07:30:00.000-07:00

Previous Chapter(s):

Harbali walked up to the crowd which still vibrated of excitement and anticipation. Unsure of what to say, he uttered, "Can I have everyone's attention please?" The crowd continued talking and milling about, not even noticing his request. Taking a deep breath, Harbali boomed, "CAN I HAVE EVERYONE'S ATTENTION PLEASE?"

Had there been a record player, the needle would have slipped off of the edge as the sound came to a screeching halt. All feelers were directed towards him as the fleas gave him their undivided attention.

"Thank you," said Harbali sheepishly. "Tomorrow, as you well know, is our assault on the ginger and silver infidels. Ramzi would like to know how many of you are in for the fight."

Feelers skittishly raised as the fleas whispered and muttered amongst themselves. An uneasiness seemed to sweep through the crowd. After some moments, a voice in the back was heard over the ruckus: "Why do you need our help?"

"Well," responded Harbali, "it's not an assault if it's only two fleas."

Another voice then shouted, "If it's not an assault, then what is it?"

"I believe it's diplomatic relations at that point," answered a flea from the front.

"There is nothing diplomatic about this," cried Harbali. "We're talking about war!"

From the back again: "We're going to war?"

"Oh for the love of Flallah," sighed Harbali. "Yes," he raised his voice, "we're going to war with the infidels!"

"No one said anything about war," came the shout from somewhere in the middle of the gathering.

Harbali's voice brimmed with agitation: "What did you think Ramzi meant when he said 'jihad'?"

His question was met with more mutterings and whisperings. Harbali hadn't thought it was going to be this difficult to get his brothers to form the troops. Throwing his legs into the air, he screamed: "LOOK! You're all coming! That's it! I can't believe this!"

A collective gasp hit Harbali followed by silence from crowd. A few moments later, someone said, "Well, why didn't you just say so?"

Harbali sighed again. No one had told him leading was so difficult.

Expect more of the story to come in the days ahead!

Time is almost up to get your donations in for The HSUS! Click here to sponsor my efforts!

Flea Games, Chapter 9: Expectations

2007-07-29T07:00:00.000-07:00

Previous Chapter(s):

As the final cheers died down in the crowd, Ramzi pulled Harbali aside and asked, "Is everything ready for tomorrow?"

Harbali, if he had an eyebrow, would have raised it right then in a questioning manner.

"I'm not sure what you mean, my friend," he said. If there was something that he had been responsible for, he had been unaware. Quickly, Harbali considered the past few days and his conversations with Ramzi and tried to remember some tidbit of significance that he might have forgotten.

Ramzi's face scoured as he said, "Bah! I can't believe you! We have to gather the troops! We have to lay out our maps of this accursed house! We have to devise a plan for entry! We have to prepare our weapons! I can't believe you hadn't done any of this!"

In a small voice, Harbali replied, "Well, I would have if you had but told me to do so, my friend."

"Oh bah!" Ramzi let out an exasperated sigh. "What kind of soldier are you? Must I tell you everything!"

Harbali hung his head. Ramzi's disapproval was more than he could bear. "I will get the troops together, my friend. I will do so right now."

"Good," affirmed Ramzi. "See that you do, and let me know how many strong we are when you are finished."

Harbali sulked deeply as Ramzi took off for his private quarters. With his shoulders low and his feelers limp, he turned and walked off towards the remaining crowd of fleas.

A third fundraiser update!

2007-07-29T06:30:00.000-07:00

If you're just waking up, then you need to read this update! I am finally able to see the light at the end of the Blogathon tunnel! With less than two hours to go, we have raised:

A huge PURR to all of our sponsors! We could not have done this without you!

For those who are considering to sponsor: All of your donations are helping the terrific folks at The Humane Society of the United States! It's not too late to make a contribution to this organization! There is no minimum or maximum amount, and Blogathon accepts all types of currencies.

Click here to get those final green papers in to be counted!

Flea Games, Chapter 8: Meeting at the food bowl

2007-07-29T06:00:00.000-07:00

Previous Chapter(s):

The human pet bent down to rub Zeus' and Isis' heads. "I missed you two," she said with a smile. She walked into the kitchen, placing her purse on the counter, and looked at the empty plastic blue food bowl at her feet. "I guess this is why you two ran out so quickly," she chuckled. "You're out of food."

As the human pet opened the door to the pantry to grab the Purina One bag, Zeus sat by the food bowl patiently. Isis slinked up beside him and asked, "So you didn't find anything in the garage?"

With her question, Zeus remembered the itsy sneeze, and his mind began to ponder the possibilities. He let out a sigh, observing the human pet measure out his food, and hung his head.

"What is it?" asked Isis.

"It just sounded like...,"

"Sounded like what?" Isis inched closer to Zeus and peered into his eyes.

"A sneeze," replied Zeus.

Isis raised an eyebrow: "A sneeze?"

"A sneeze."

"Very curious if it were a sneeze, but then I wouldn't be surprised considering dust mites could be allergic to dust and what a horrible life that would be if they were," stated Isis as if such foolhardiness were actually fact.

Typically, Zeus would have ignored his sister's inane ramblings, but as she mentioned dust mites, he began to devise a new theory. Saying more to himself than to Isis, Zeus mused, "What if we have new visitors in the garage?"

"That's just silliness," said Isis with a shrug of her shoulders. "Don't critters normally call in advance to let you know they are coming?"

Zeus sighed again. "Shut up, Isis." The human pet had poured the food, and once again, Zeus' thoughts were diverted to his stomach where hunger raged a war of its own.

Lover? No, I'm a fighter!

2007-07-29T05:30:00.000-07:00

Dear Zeus,

A question for you: I'm a bit of a fighter, and I'd like to know, what's the scariest fight you've ever been in? Do you fight with Isis?

Pablo

Dear Pablo,

Do I fight with Isis?

Is the sky blue?

Is the grass green?

Are the Pittsburgh Steelers the best football team of all time? (And considering you're Australian, I mean American football!)

OF COURSE, I fight with my sister! Isn't that what brothers and sisters do?

The worst fight we ever got into, though, has to be when Isis first arrived at my previous residency: The Apartment. When Isis was a kitten, she did not recognize my authority, and she would constantly get in front of me at the food bowl. Granted, she was unbelievably small, fitting into the palm of my human pet's hand, but that did not stop her from bullying her way to the very brim of the bowl.

I tried to be patient. Honest, I did, but sometimes, you just have to put your paw down.

And I did.

Right on her.

I pinned her to the tile floor and held her there, listening to her mewings for mercy. She clawed at my leg and bit at my paw, but I did not release her. The human pet came rushing over, yelling at me, screaming, "Zeus! What in the hell do you think you are doing? You're going to kill her!"

Kill her? No.

Warn her? Yes.

Apparently, though, I've needed to warn Isis now 1,617 times to let me eat first. She's one of those cats that believes she can move a brick wall with her nose if given enough time. What more can I say?

As to the scariest fight I ever had, that question is easy. Paws down, it has to be my fight with the Roo of Kung-Fu, Cangura. The match was otherwise known as The Brawl in the Fall. I honestly thought that I was fighting for my life. Don't be fooled by that innocent kangaroo face of her's! She's an all-out bitch!

Have a question for Zeus, Isis, or Blackie? Leave it in the comments! By doing so, you will be supporting our blogging efforts for the next 2 hours!

Want to make a donation to The HSUS? Click here!

Flea Games, Chapter 7: The revolutionary

2007-07-29T05:00:00.000-07:00

Previous Chapter(s):

A few days after Harbali had been with Flarul Flislam, he had met the charismatic and electrifying Ramzi. He was unlike any other flea Harbali had met. He considered drinking the blood of hosts to be destroying the temple bestowed to each and every flea by Flallah. He also did not condone the act of consuming feces left by the host as this too was a desecration of the most holy possession one had. The only thing Ramzi would eat were leftover bits of vegetable matter, and these he would harvest from the Black Mountain (otherwise known as the garbage can), returning with a bounty each and every time.

"One must be careful to keep one's self pure from the infidels' persuasions," he would tell Harbali upon his return.

It had been Ramzi who had taught Harbali about the ginger and silver infidels and their mistress, The Gigantess.

One day, The Gigantess had entered into the garage, carrying soft cotton human relics in her hands. She had begun to operate a strange whirring device that filled with water, completely oblivious to the nation under her feet. Ramzi had instructed Harbali from a safe distance in the caves as they both observed her: "If you feel the vibrations of The Gigantess approach, run to the Red Rock Caves. Do not think twice for you will die for your hesitation. Her step has been known to kill hundreds of our kind for she is both cruel and relentless."

And when the ginger infidel had first appeared to make marks in the Oceanless Beach (otherwise known as the litterbox), it had been Ramzi once again to enlighten Harbali: "He is the enemy, Harbali. He is filled with decadence and corruption. Look how he enslaves The Gigantess to clean after his waste. Only a pompous and arrogant fool would command another to do such a horrid act."

So taken with Ramzi was Harbali that he did not require much convincing to join Ramzi in his jihad against the ginger infidel. Ramzi had only to suggest that a holy war was quite necessary under their current conditions: "If we do not rise up against the infidels, our oppression will only continue. The Red Rock Caves cannot hold us forever. Our destinies lay in glorified jihad against the infidels for death in the way of Flallah is our highest aspiration!"

Ramzi's fervor was contagious, and news quickly spread throughout the caves as fleas communed with one another. As more fleas rallied to follow, Harbali stood beside his friend in pride, content in knowing he was second-in-command. Ramzi's revolution would be unlike anything the fleas had ever known, and Harbali mused that this was how his name would be remembered throughout flistory.

You'll never think of tampons the same way again

2007-07-29T04:30:00.000-07:00

Dear Zeus,

Where do you think Isis' obsession with tampons comes from?

The Cat Realm

Dear Cat Realm,

The easiest (and most sexist answer) would be because she is female. However, since I know much more is expected of me in terms of reasoning, I would have to offer this theory:

The cotton of the tampon represents the comforting womb from which Isis was born. The cardboard applicator represents the protective lining of her mother, that which she burst through to come into this world. The string, following this logic, is the umbilical cord.

Using Freudian logic, one can then deduce that Isis has a deep loathing towards her mother for birthing her into this world. Hence, she takes out her destructive nature on the tampons, trying to expand the womb from whence she came. It is why she is so obsessed with it for she is continuously trying to return to it.

Overall, though, I think it might be safe to just say because she's female.

Have a question for Zeus, Isis, or Blackie? Leave it in the comments! By doing so, you will be supporting our blogging efforts for the next 3 hours!

Want to make a donation to The HSUS? Click here!

Flea Games, Chapter 6: Flallah's mercy

2007-07-29T04:00:00.000-07:00

Previous Chapter(s):

Harbali covered his tube with both of his front feet as Ramzi froze in terror.

Had the ginger infidel heard him sneeze?

Would their secret location be discovered?

The fleas huddled tightly together, mostly out of desperation, as the ginger infidel came closer to the Red Rock Caves. Not a breath was released as they sensed his approach. They could feel his stare upon the human relics, imagining his furry countenance to appear cold and heartless.

The fact that the fleas had no eyes to witness the infidel only added to the heightened sense of heart-wrenching anxiety.

Time seemed to stop as the fleas waited for either death or Flallah's mercy.

As if in answer to their most private prayers, the ginger infidel turned away from them and left the confines of their sanctuary. In unison, the fleas released a collective sigh of relief, but soon after, all feelers were directed towards Harbali.

"You could have ruined us all, Harbali!"

"We could have died!"

"Praise Flallah for saving us from Harbali's misdeed!"

Harbali hung his head in shame. He had not meant to sneeze, but the dust from the Red Rock Caves was overwhelming. His allergic weakness had chosen the wrong time to come forth, and it nearly cost him, not only his own life, but the lives of his brotherhood.

"I am deeply sorry, my brothers. I could not help myself," Harbali uttered in remorse.

Ramzi laid a comforting foot on Harbali's shoulder and said, "No worries, my friend. Flallah has a plan for us all, and in this plan, you were meant to sneeze. Perhaps it was Flallah working through you to send a message to the ginger infidel that he should sleep with one eye open this evening for tomorrow, his world changes forever!"

With that, a clamoring "Ayah!" rang through the air as the fleas cheered. Raising his voice even louder, Ramzi continued: "Yes, tomorrow, the ginger infidel shall know the pain of a million fallen fleas! He shall beg for mercy, but none shall come!"

Once more, a collective "Ayah!" boomed, and while the fleas celebrated the coming dawn, Harbali could not help but wonder if the ginger infidel suspected they were coming for him.

And this is why cats should not drink and dial...

2007-07-29T03:30:00.000-07:00

[Ring! Ring!]

Zeus: Pick up the PHONE!

[Ring! Ring!]

Zeus: Godammit, why are you not picking up the PHONE!

[Ring! Ring!]

Zeus: [Sobbing becomes evident] I can't do this damn Blogathon without you! Pick - up - the - PHONE!

[Ring! Ring!]

Zeus: I LOVE YOU! Talk to Meee!

Isis: [Tired and groggy] He-, hello?

Zeus: Oh. My. GAWD.

Isis: Zeus? Is this you?

Zeus: I just...drunk dialed...my sister.

Isis: Wow. You're so never living this one down.

[CLICK!]

Want to make a donation to The HSUS? Click here!

Who's getting drunk dialed at 3 in the morning?

2007-07-29T03:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Zeus,

So my Mom wants to know: What are cats really thinking of at 3 in the morning????

Tara

Dear Tara,

Such a fitting question considering the time! Let's see: What am I thinking of right now? For starters, I am wondering just how much more caffeine I can pump into my itsy-bity body. I know I said I was not going to consume any of the stuff, but it seemed inevitable once one o'clock in the morning reared its ugly head.

I am also wondering whether or not Lindsay Lohan is ever going to get her act together. How many more times do we need to see this female homo sapien in the news? Doesn't anyone offer to smack her? I think someone should have done a Blogathon for that charity: The Smack Lindsay Lohan Fund. I'd have definitely sponsored that.

Another thought on my mind is whether or not I could win The Singing Bee. I think Joey Fatone is a fantastic character, and I would certainly enjoy hamming it up on stage with him. I do have some singing experience, after all! Surely, I stand a chance.

Maybe it's time to make some drunk dials. Granted, the last time I picked up the phone while tanked, I ended up in hot water, but hey: You only live once!

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My favorite wild animal

2007-07-29T02:20:00.000-07:00

It's the WILD game, direct from Blogathon '07 headquarters! Directions for the game are simple: Post a photo or some rendition of your favorite wild animal. This game was cake as far as I was concerned since the answer seemed so clear:

Deep in the urban landscape, amongst cold steel and paint layered with asbestos, lives an awesome creature so terrifying that even The Discovery Channel is considering scrapping their Shark Week for a week in her honor!

Without further ado, may I present...

MY HUMAN PET!

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Introducing the first nonmammalian feline

2007-07-29T02:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Blackie,

What's it like to be from a litter of Squillions???

Beau

Are you serious, Beau?

I have brothers and sisters?

Holy freakin' cow!!!

I can't say I actually remember being 'born'. I recall being 'molded' more than anything, and this has led me to believe that I may actually be the first nonmammalian feline in existence. My lack of hair, reproductive capabilities, and absence of food intake are all clear signs of this status.

Do you know if there's some sort of prestigious scientific award for me? Zeus says there is which is why he does not let me out of the house. I was just curious.

BLACKIE

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Flea Games, Chapter 5: The smallest of sneezes

2007-07-29T01:30:00.000-07:00

Previous Chapter(s):

From the hallway, sitting in front of the pet door, Isis whispered, "Do you see anything?"

Zeus walked gently across the cold, cement floor of the garage and let his eyes adjust to the dim light. Though he had first heard the chanting when he entered, he heard nothing now. That did not mean, however, that the room was completely empty.

It meant that whatever it was had simply decided to hide.

Turning to his left, he examined the stack of cardboard boxes lined along the wall. Some still had items from his previous residency while others lay empty on their sides, their flaps in the air. He decided it was best to take a closer look and pawed at the first few boxes he came across, knocking them over as he did so.

"Zeus?"

"Shh!" He poked his head inside a few of the boxes, but found only dust and an occasional spider. After the fifth box, his curiosity satisfied, he decided to examine the washer and dryer located on the back wall. He began making his way in that direction when the tiniest high-pitched sound reached his ears:

"Achoooooo!"

Zeus came to a complete stop and tilted his head. Was that...a sneeze?

"Isis, did you just sneeze?" Though he knew better, he still thought it to be logical not to jump to any conclusions.

"No."

Zeus turned around and made his way to the front of the garage. The diminutive sound had definitely come from that area, but where? Cleaning supplies and tools stood in front of him, but no good ever came from messing with those items. Certainly nothing could live in that poisonous garbage.

He only but briefly glanced at the bricks immediately to this right.

"I could have sworn I heard..."

"Zeus? Isis? Where are you? I'm home!"

Isis cried, "It's the Mama!"

The human pet had come home from her daily adventure, and of course, he had to greet her. So strange, this pygmy sneeze. He knew he had to find the source of it, but as he passed through the pet door to return to the hallway, he looked upon his pet, and with her smile, all thoughts of the curious sneeze left his mind.

Caboose, chartreuse, deduce, footloose, juice, produce, seduce

2007-07-29T01:00:00.000-07:00

The latest Blogathon game asked participants to tell how or why they chose their blogs' names.

Considering this is a source of amusement (and private pain) for me, I decided to enter. For all of my worldly intelligence, my accolades, and my bittersweet wit, I could not for the life of me be more saddened at how I arrived at my blog's name.

You see, I had been stumped myself, and I had asked my human pet to assist me in thinking of a clever and unusual name for my blog. She went immediately to a free online rhyming dictionary and entered my name into the rhyme generator. As the words popped up, she said each of those words with my name, alternating which word came first.

When she hit the word, "excuse", you would have thought she had struck gold.

"That's it! It'll be called 'The Zeus Excuse'!"

Sigh...

At least it wasn't called Deuce Zeus, Goose the Zeus, or Vamoose Zeus!

See if I ever ask her for help again...

My only comfort comes in the form of a web generator:

HowManyOfMe.com

There are
0
people with my name
in the U.S.A.

How many have your name?

At least no one else has to suffer this humiliation.

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