So the cat is a bit ummm young, so is used to crap like Twitter to flap my tongue, but over at News From Nowhere, Alan stirred everyone up with this postcard affair. So after Betsy pleaded for the address to bush number three, I decided to peek my head up and see what I could see. Then the switch took place and now in two places you can see my face.
So you can see my bush with a crack, sorry doesn’t include a rack, gutter talk there, not that you care. But as I was saying you can see bush number three and all that surrounds me over at My Five Men, where I even show a bird or ten. Although one is in the shitter, I think I scared him out so now he’s quite bitter. But that’s what he gets for leaving a mess on the seat or on the floor where I put my feet. Ok enough about that, as if you want to see the postcard by the cat, go over there, if you’re a prude it might ruffle your hair.
But what did the cat get in exchange, here at my open range, ha I wish, maybe one day I’ll have a pond with fish, that I can eat, if the Face it Facts reaches its 100,000 ad feat. Damn there I go again, nope wrong it wasn’t a hen. As the cat gets shown off in style, although if it housed my past poo that be kind of vile. Hopefully Betsy had a clean can in mind, when she drew my behind. So here is the postcard I received in the mail yesterday, Alan aren’t you glad everyone has decided to play?
Now wasn’t that picture of the cat so cute, and the rhyme was just a hoot. Plus she has such nice handwriting as well, mine is pretty scary, which if you go look, you’ll be able to tell. Heck I could be lazy and didn't even need to retype what she wrote, all and all giving this postcard a big thumbs up rhyme time vote. So once again I give My Five Men a toot, Alan for treating twitter like a newt and me for just being me always here for one and all to see. Even if she did stuff me in a Pringle can, good thing I’m not a six foot tall man.
So to the full Pringle cans that Pat eats and the empty ones that he stores for the treats, that Cassie and I, live in the litter sometimes smelling like something did die and the full ones that house our past movements from the other end, what a nice post card from a friend. Now I will stop all this nice shhh, umm crap and say my usual last lap. So stay off the bush number three grass or I’ll chase you down with my little rhyming ass.
Later all, have a nice fall.