Monday, May 3, 2010

If you've followed this blog for any period of time, you are probably familiar with Ninja Cocaine Kitty.

As I've mentioned before, Ninja Cocaine Kitty (not his real name, but changed here to protect his identity) has an interesting way of communicating with me. It usually involves flinging himself from across the room in a Freddy Krueger, Ninja-like stance.

But last night he elevated his communication method to a new high.

We're not talking any of that, "But did Timmy fall in the well, boy?" stuff for my pets. Nope. Not my cat. Instead, he actually fashioned a neck sign out of a bag handle and a piece bag.


I'm pretty sure when I caught up with him he was searching for a Sharpie to scratch out his little piece of kitty wisdom to me. Curses to bad timing.

BACKGROUND:
When we first acquired Ninja Cocaine Kitty last year, he was just a confused scared little kitty. He was so small that he would try to "nurse" on Todd's goatee or on my ear. He would crawl up on my shoulder and latch himself in a jaw death grip to my ear lobe and try to nurse. He tried this for months and months after we got him and finally he grew out of it. He will still try it on occasion (which makes me sad and I say, "OOOHHH LOOOOK...he must miss his MOMMMMMY", completely forgetting that he just randomly Ninja flung himself at me mere moments ago).

FAST FORWARD TO THIS WEEK:
Ella is fascinated with our pets (2 dogs, 2 cats), which is sad because they want nothing to do with her (the spectrum varies from mild disinterest to complete loathing on their part). This week, Freddie (AKA: Ninja Cocaine Kitty) has been hanging around Ella a lot, so she's taken a great deal of interest in him. I've been teaching her "KITTY! KITTY! KITTY! KITTY!" (which she thinks is the BEST. NOISE. EVER.).

Upon Todd's return home from a business trip, Ella sees Ninja Cocaine Kitty and starts all, "KI-KI-KI-KI" (yes, she's a genius) in front of her daddy. Todd was in great awe of my new monkey trick. He then says, "OH! While I was gone, I had all these weird dreams. One was that we were pumping your milk with the pump, but not from your breast, FROM YOUR EAR LOBE."

Discussion about his mentally stability and need for regulated medication ensued.

After that, I was telling him how I was teaching Ella the "KITTY! KITTY!" thing this week and I couldn't figure out why Ninja Cocaine Kitty wouldn't leave me alone. It took me a moment to realize that he wouldn't leave me alone BECAUSE I WAS CALLING HIM ("Kitty! Kitty!")

(Hey, I never claimed to be bright).

At that point? My husband deadpans:

"He wasn't leaving you alone not because you were calling him, but because your ears were lactating..."

There's something seriously wrong with us in this household.

A few weeks after Ella was born, my mom and dad were up. I had gone out for something exotic (like groceries, I'm sure) and my parents were at home with Ella. Upon my arrival back home, I went into my home office to check my email. Much to my surprise, my computer desktop looked like this:

Yep-upside down.

Now, there were two things I knew:

1. I didn't put my computer desktop like that, and

2. I hadn't been drinking (seeing how I hadn't had a drink in many months and was breast feeding).

When my dad came in I said, "Ha, ha, dad, very funny." My dad is pretty computer savvy and I had assumed he had done this little "trick" as a joke.

His response?
"Uh, I've never seen that before in my life."

Well, APPARENTLY, Ninja Cocaine Kitty (who likes to lay on my keyboard and/or fling himself off of my keyboard to gain height and speed for his next ninja move), hit some series of keys that turned my desktop upside down. (Yeah, great idea right? A set of keystrokes that turns your screen upside down...)

Since then, he's done other minor "damages" - changing the resolution on the screen, opening a WORD document and then saving it, renaming files, and on and on...

If you're wondering what the PC key strokes are (and/or want to play this little fun nugget with your family and friends), the Windows key strokes are CTRL, ALT, and down arrow (all at the same time). (To get your screen upright again, just do the same except with the up arrow).

Now, Go forth and play tricks. Just email me to let me know the reactions of the people you play the trick on...

An update on Ninja Cocaine Kitty is so long overdue that it will be a multi-posting update.


Part 1: Ninja Cocaine Kitty and Ice Hockey


First off, I would love to tell you that Ninja Cocaine Kitty (NCK) has cooled his Ninja Cocaine spastic ways and settled into a nice, calm, loving cat. But that would just be be a lie. There might not be a bigger lie on the face of the earth. So, we'll just say NCK is continuing his Ninja Cocaine Kitty ways.

Case #1 - The Ice.


NCK is obsessed with ice. I don't mean just interested. I mean utterly and completely obsessed. It's so bad that he doesn't even have to hear you getting ice out of the refrigerator door, he can just hear you opening the cabinet to get the glass that you are taking over to get ice out of the freezer and he will fly through the house to fling himself at you in the best Ninja kitty move. Once he arrives, he awaits, crouched expectantly, for you to throw an ice cube in his direction. Sometimes he jumps up to catch it (this cat has some mad jumping skills), but mostly he just waits for it to hit the floor so he can ice hockey it all over the house, eventually leaving it to melt in a puddle where I can later step in it and think it's kitty pee or pet puke of some kind.


A couple of months ago, Todd said, "Guess where I found Freddie [aka: Ninja Cocaine Kitty] today?" With him, it's pretty much a toss up, so I shrugged unceremoniously.

"Hanging from the ice dispenser on the refrigerator door trying to get his own ice," Todd said in awe.


"Do you think he was trying to make me a margarita?" I replied. (...because it seemed the only reasonable response).

Ninja Cocaine Kitty's creative process for TP art:





Please note the artistic use of fang-like teeth to create the art instead of claws. TRES CREATIVE!

Learn how you can get an original Ninja Cocaine Kitty TP Art piece.

I was reading about "the most successful living animal painter" Tillie the Jack Russell Terrier on Brad Listi's blog. I had previously seen a segment on some news show about Tillie a few months ago (at which time my husband and I laughed hysterically at the absurdity). However, when I saw Brad's posting, I had a lightbulb moment.

Before I move forward with my big idea, let me give you some background on Tillie's art:

Tillie's human attaches carbon paper to regular paper and then Tillie scratches away and voila! A genius at work. Here's an example of Tillie's work:

In this picture I'm pretty sure that Tillie's saying, "You Schmucks, I sniff other dog's butts and eat goose sh*t and you want to believe that I am a creative genius?!?" or maybe she's thinking, "You doofs, you're going to pay $2000 for THIS?!?!" She's more likely to be thinking, "Is that SNAUSAGES I smell?!?!" though.

(But that's just my interpretation).

Personally, I think all the scratching means she's mad at her human for naming her something dumb like Tillamoock Cheddar. Or, maybe she just needs to go to the bathroom? But hey, I'm no artist, so what do I know?

Anyway, before you nay-say, let me tell you this:

According to a CBS article, Tillie has had 17 solo exhibits and has sold more than 100 of her paintings, which sometimes sell up to $2,200 each.

Yep.

Here's the lightbulb moment:

For all of you people who paid up to $2200/each for Tillie's designs, I give you TP ART by Ninja Cocaine Kitty.

For a small donation to my bubble gum ice cream fund (please see DONATIONS on the sidebar of this blog), you can receive an ORIGINAL Ninja Cocaine Kitty TP Art of your very own. (Please note: Donations of $25 and up only, please. Hey, you think toilet paper is cheap these days?!?!) Each piece of Ninja Cocaine Kitty's TP ART is unique, so your TP ART may vary from the one shown in this picture.

In addition, each donation will also receive this "I'm so sweet how could I have ever done anything wrong like try to chew your face off?" frameable catograph of Ninja Cocaine Kitty:

For the highest donation, I will also throw in the original JK Wilson rubbing of the Weinermobile.

(I know, just when you thought it couldn't get any better).

HURRY! ORDER NOW! Quantities are limited as we never know when Ninja Cocaine Kitty will get his next round of inspiration (also known as "we don't know when the next time he'll sneak past us into the bathroom he's been banned from...")!

This was very amusing:

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:
cocaine(2x) crap (1x)

(See dad? My husband was COMPLETELY exaggerating when he told you that I "curse like a sailor". Now I have proof. And, it was on the Internet, so it must be true.)

Now that you've been here for a few months, it has become increasingly clear that we need to set some ground rules. The new Ninja Cocaine Kitty (NCK) Ground Rules, effective immediately, are as follows:

1. The kitchen counters are not your racetrack. Please do not use them to gain height and speed on your enemies.

2. Please do not stalk and then hide by the back door so that you can attack the 2 dogs every time I let them back into the house. They don't like this. REALLY.

3. That weird shrieking-growling-hissing combo sound that the adult cat makes when you attack her with your mad Ninja Cocaine Kitty skills is not her way of saying, "Please continue biting and attacking me. It feels really good and this is loads of fun. Bring on the love!" She doesn't like it. Please stop this behavior immediately.

4. The bay window in the kitchen with all the plants and glass bottles was not set up as your personal obstacle course. Please stop using it as such.

5. The flick on your nose to get you to release your Ninja Cocaine Kitty death grip is NOT an invitation to quickly regroup and then fling yourself again at the same spot on my arm with 10x the strength. Please stop.

6. THIS. IS. NOT. YOUR. HOUSE. We were here before you, we'll be here after you.


We reserve the right to update, change, and/or add to the Ninja Cocaine Kitty Ground Rules as needed.

I think the proper amount of time has gone by to pay my late cat Max respect, so now I'll tell you about the new addition to our family:

About 4 days before Max died, we "acquired" Freddie, a little kitty. I say "acquired" because it was more like me screeching at our friend Paul to go back to the park to save the little kitty he had seen clinging to a tire in the rain. I guess I sufficiently guilted, because Paul semi-obediantly retrieved said kitty. When he brought the kitty to the bookstore, I thought he was dead (the kitty, not Paul). He could barely hold his head up and we could barely feel his heart beating. After we dried him off, he still looked very, very sad and we weren't sure he was going to make it.

My plan was to nurse him back to health and then to find him a good, loving home.

*ahem*

Just for the record, that plan NEVER works for animal lovers. So, OF COURSE, we couldn't get rid of him and he's, shall we say, gotten quite comfortable at our house. Fast forward 3 months:

Freddie (what we named him, correction, what I named him and will never hear the end of...), has become Ninja Cocaine Kitty. I swear, this is the fastest cat I've ever seen. I often hear Hannah (Max's "sister" and our other 13 year old cat) crying out in complete pain and agony as Freddie Ninja-flings himself across the room and attaches his tiny, chiclet-like Ninja kitty teeth into any part of Hannah's body that he can reach in some kitty cocaine-induced frenzy.
It hurts.
It hurts REALLY BAD.

The reason I know this? Is because throughout the morning and evening, Freddie will Cocaine-Kitty-Ninja-fling-attach himself to my arm.

It's TERRIFYING. This is a picture of him running at me:

(OK, really, that's the Zuni Fetish Doll from the 70's-era Trilogy of Terror. But I SWEAR Freddie looks JUST LIKE THAT while he's lunging at me...)

(WHAT?!?!? You've NEVER SEEN nor HEARD OF Trilogy of Terror. *tsk*tsk* For shame... I think I saw it at the drive-in when I was 6. Which would explain a great deal of why I'm like this now...but, I digress...)

To make it worse? Freddie NEVER cocaine-kitty-Ninja-flings himself at Todd. It must have something to do with that secret testosterone hand shake.

So, anyway...we got a new cat...



Next Time: How Freddie tries to nurse on me...