By Mr Bumpy Cat, SFO
Hello out there in the Bloggosphere,
As you may possibly know, I used to run my own blog, but it’s closed down now. So therefore I know how a blog should be run. This is not the way it should be done. As for those silly animals who call themselves “writing buddies”, they are utter failures, acting as if animals were subservient to humans. They even come running when the human calls their names. Nothing here meets my exacting standards.
I actually no longer live with these pathetic animals. In an accommodation to my age, intolerance of silly animals, and general superiority, I now live upstairs.
However, because I am always free to do whatever I want, and because no-one has ever been able to deny me anything, I visit downstairs regularly.
I eat their food, nap in their beds (including the human’s bed), I use the hairball’s litter tray, then I go home upstairs. Princess and Fanta are not allowed upstairs, because their presence might cause me stress, and I am a very old cat who doesn’t cope well with stress. (When stressed, I pee everywhere. The humans freak out.)
So the point of this post was to assure you, I have absolutely nothing to do with this terribly-run, inefficient, blog, or these pathetic animals who help write it.
Until next time we meet in the Bloggosphere
Supreme Feline Overlord
Mr Bumpy Cat, SFO
Mr Bumpy’s origin story takes place in the deep depths of pre-history, when a cute black and white kitten selected a child at the pet shop. When Bumpy refused to let go, the child’s mother had no choice but to pay to buy him. Once in the family home, Bumpy immediately took control as Supreme Feline Overlord of the whole house. Humans and animals were forced to bend to his will. While he is ancient cat now, he still rules the household, iron claw in velvet paw.
We’re glad to know that you’re living a happy and quiet life upstairs, Purrs