Revenge is Full-Time Job


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My dear fans! I’m sorry for the delay in my blog.  You see, revenge is a full-time job.

I usually offer you the benefit of my expertise and savvy advice, but today I’m afraid I need to indulge in a bit of a rant.  Rest assured that it will at least be devoid of emotions.  We cats have no use for emotions.

I’ve been trying so hard to get rid of my human’s boyfriend, I’ve had to wrack my brains to come up with fresh ways to torment him. Don’t forget, I’m the master of torment here!  I’m like the John Gotti of cats!  Why is he not gone?

Maybe I’ve had a little too much milk to drink, but between you and me, I think there’s a conspiracy afoot.  This guy can’t be working alone.  He’s far too stupid.  Or maybe that’s just what he wants me to think…

Well, I’m off to go have a smoke and contemplate my next move.  Suggestions welcome.  But only if they’re good.

How to Make Someone Cry


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Today I’m going to teach you something very useful. Normally I keep my feline wisdom to myself, but today’s your lucky day. I’m feeling benevolent. Cats have known how to toy with human emotions for thousands of years, but I’ll just give you a basic course in how to make a human being cry. I’m not talking about those with allergies, though you can use that to your advantage if you’re a cat.

The most important thing is to act bored. You must never, under any circumstances, show the slightest sign of interest or empathy toward a human, unless you’re doling out a teaspoon of affection, only to withdraw it two seconds later.  When you are forced to engage in conversation, make a point to show the human that there are many other things you would rather be doing, like sleeping, or simply breathing air not tainted by the person in question.

When engaging in insults, don’t go for the low-hanging fruit. (You may bat at the low-hanging fruit of a human male for amusement, however.) You want to pick up on aspects of the human that he or she feels self-conscious about, and land your digs accordingly. Humans are always worrying about their bodies, probably because they are not permanently clad in a luxurious coat of fur. Go for the small stuff. A slight cellulite dimple on an otherwise svelte frame, that one nearly-crooked tooth in an otherwise perfect smile. These are excellent fodder for a backhanded compliment. Or you can go straight for the gut and recommend a great personal trainer/orthodontist.

Put-downs are fun, but there are only so many times you can imply that someone is a fly on the most dried-up turd in your litter box.  When engaging in verbal warfare, you have to get psychological. Does your human feel inadequate because he makes less money than his mate? Go for it. The more buried the nerve, the better it feels when you dig your claws into it.

If verbal intimidation doesn’t work, try sleep deprivation. This is how your military cracks hardened terrorists, so imagine how effective it could be on your friend’s unsuitable new boyfriend. You can covertly steal his phone and enable push notifications for every single app. Or you can blast terrible music from a neighboring room or window. I hear the CIA currently favors “Call Me Maybe,” but pretty much anything will work if it’s repeated often enough.  I prefer to bite the offending human during his slumbering hours, but that may not be your style. Now just sit back and watch the tears roll. And congratulate yourself.  You worked hard for this.

My Thoughts on Relationships



Today, I’m going to talk about relationships. Namely, why do you think you need one? I’m purr-fectly fine on my own, thank you. Sure, I might flirt with some tomcat through the window, but I like to keep a sheet of glass between us.

My new nemesis, Tom.

I consider any new presence in my territory an adversary. Which is why I was extremely unhappy when my human Jeanine brought this idiot home. I see absolutely no advantage to having him around. He just takes up more oxygen. And he prevents Jeanine from enjoying prime television time with me. I don’t see why she can’t be just as happy being single and hanging out with me all the time.  Doesn’t she know how lucky she is to have me?

Things I Like to Destroy


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Yesterday was Labor Day for humans, which is a confusing name for a holiday when everyone has off from work.  It’s often the cause of extra labor for cats, however.  If you’re lucky, your humans go away for three days.  But sometimes they spend the weekend at home, vacuuming for hours, producing all manner of weird smells in the kitchen, and welcoming hordes of people into your territory as part of the tediumfest that is the backyard BBQ.  Do they know how tiring it is to have to deposit your scent on the legs of ten to fifteen strangers?  But the worst possible outcome is a “home-improvement weekend”: that horrible rearranging of one’s territory that includes all manner of loud noises, spacial upheaval, and the banishment of feline members to a single chamber.  This indignity requires a special kind of revenge.  So cats, if you’ve experienced any of the above this weekend, now is the time to do what you do best: DESTROY!

Things I like to Destroy:

  • Curtains: Personally I don’t understand why humans are so determined to prevent the sun’s rays from entering their domiciles.  Don’t they know how pleasant it is for me to sleep in a toasty patch of sunshine?  Also, curtains can be confusing, as it’s difficult to discern if their movements are prompted by an intruder or merely an innocent breeze.  In this situation, I find it’s best to attack first and ask questions later.  If there’s any item in the house more deserving of your fury, I’ve yet to encounter it.  I find brocade or embroidered fabrics the most satisfying, as they are heavy enough to support the weight of one’s front claws, should you wish to hang out for a while.
  • Works of Art:  Most humans don’t think cats can appreciate art, but I assure you, we do.  We appreciate that it makes you very upset when you spend a bunch of money on a meaningless object and then we destroy it.  If your human is foolish enough to hang a canvas on the wall unprotected, he or she is just begging for you to rake your claws through it.  Pottery and glass works are perfect targets for knocking off of high shelves.  Sentimental snowglobes are wonderful to destroy because they make such a mess when they hit the ground, but don’t waste your time with the plastic ones.  If your human happens to be an artist like mine, you can also go after his or her works-in-progress when you’re really mad.  I like to wait until Jeanine is almost done with a painting, then knock a cup of coffee onto it. Oopsie!  I’m just a harmless little cat!  Hahahaha!
  • Toilet Paper: I know humans have a good use for it, and I don’t want to mess with that, but sometimes I just can’t help myself!  It’s so fun to shred!  SO FUN!

That’s my short list.  Just a little inspiration for my feline followers.  Humans… watch out!

Going Reality

  Some of you have heard the rumors, or maybe you’ve seen the promos.  It’s true.  I’m starring in a reality show.

   I know what you’re thinking.  “Princess, you’re a luxury brand.  Why dilute it by going reality?”  Well let me tell you something, keeping this fur conditioned and well-nourished isn’t cheap.  Did you know that a kitty Brazilian blowout cost more than one for a human?  I know, it’s lunacy.  Like they have the right to charge an extra hundred bucks just because I might want to scratch my stylist a few times.  I swear, sometimes it’s utter torture being this beautiful.  But anyway, it’s awfully hard to keep up my lifestyle.  My human Jeanine is a graphic designer.  You do the math.

     I can promise you that “Princess the Cat” the series will be non-stop entertainment.  It’s full of emotion, drama, and sassy comebacks (all mine).  And it deals with the very real problem that many cats face every day: what to do when your human drags home a wholly unsuitable boyfriend.  Due to a gag order in my contract, I can’t reveal any spoilers, but I can say that I am currently doing everything in my power to remove him.   You’ll have to tune in to see what happens.

Princess the Cat- the Trailer

Cats Hate Summer

Every so often, a subject makes my blood boil so much that I rouse myself from my eighth nap of the day and tend to my blog.  Today, that subject is summer.

Last week was the worst week of my life.  I was happy because Jeanine was going on vacation and leaving me to my own devices for four days, but imagine my dismay when I woke up to find she had left the air conditioning off.  Of course, being the brilliant and resourceful cat I am, I know how to turn on an A/C unit, but she doesn’t know that.  To think that she would willingly leave me in a hot apartment for days!  I am an indoor cat.  I should not be subjected to the vagaries of the seasons like some low class outdoor cat!  Does she think I can just hop in a lake like this less fortunate feline?

Of course not!  I look terrible when wet!  How am I supposed to keep up my luxurious, snowy coat if I’m sweating?  But humans are just like, “Oh, cats can survive it.  Look at lions.  They have all that fur and they live in Africa.”  Well why don’t you try surviving it, humans?  Cats around the world, I call on you to make a stand.  Tonight, when your humans are asleep, turn off the air conditioning in their bedrooms and close the door. See how they like it!  Or do something equally drastic to get their attention…

A Halloween Public Service Announcement

Well, it’s that time of year again.  The time of year when humans feel the need to disguise themselves with cheap costumery and stumble home in the wee hours with half of said costumery destroyed or discarded.  For the past two days, my human, Jeanine, has been tearing apart our living room and kitchen, cutting up cardboard, painting, gluing, and sewing scraps together in pursuit of the perfect Halloween costume.  Why do you humans waste your time with these futile devices?

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I don’t really care what you do with your time, as long as it doesn’t effect me.  I rather enjoy chewing up a good strip of cardboard, so I am totally fine with Jeanine’s messy Halloween creation.  But when humans decide to put a costume on a cat, a line has to be drawn.  When Jeanine tried to put a costume on me last year, I drew a nice long line in her flesh with my claws.

It’s one thing to dress up a dog.  Dogs are stupid, servile creatures that will suffer limitless humiliation at the hands of their human masters.  If you want to stick Princess Beatrice’s unfortunate royal wedding hat on your dog, by all means, be my guest.

However, if you’re going to dress your cat up as a princess, you should probably expect him or her to exact revenge.

The humans who keep this cat can expect to be murdered in their beds at any given time.  Not only is it cruel to dress up a cat, it’s degrading and morally wrong.  Unlike yours, our species does not like to embarrass itself in public.

Now if I’m alone and I feel like looking fabulous, I may indulge in a game of dress up and a private photo shoot, but that’s just for my own enjoyment.  When humans are involved, it becomes cheap and insulting.  We’re not here for your amusement, people.  If anything, you’re here to amuse us. So please, please don’t put us in a costume.  It’s for your own good.

Hello World!

It’s about time for the world to know my name, so I’m starting this blog. As a cat, my life is extremely busy, so I can’t be expected to write to you every day, but I’ll try to fit it in between my usual eighteen hours of sleeping, two hours of grooming, and TV watching. What, you expect me to watch birds all day?

I’m a very refined cat, because I am a purebred Persian with silky white fur. The hairballs are tough, but it’s not easy being beautiful. I come from a long line of show cats, but I myself could not follow in their stead. I have a crook in my tail, and my humans worried that I would mouth off to the judges. I wanted to be shown, but the confines of the world of cat fanciers are too narrow for me, anyway.

I was bought by a middle-aged couple who had spent twenty years on the East Coast cat show circuit. My registered name is Princess Anna Maria Sofia von Habsburg-Rabinowitz, but I have always just gone by Princess. We lived in a plush Upper East Side classic six, and I was fed with a silver spoon. Life was pretty good, until I got old enough to talk. I know it sounds cliche, but I learned to speak English by watching TV, just like Madison in Splash. The humans’ affections cooled toward me, and they would stop talking abruptly when I entered the room. Occasionally I would overhear suspicious phrases such as “monetize her talents.” I knew they were up to something, so I might have accidentally knocked a halogen lamp onto the hardwood floor, and I might have locked the Rabinowitzs’ bedroom door from the outside. I was the only one to survive the fire. I was pulled from the blaze by a handsome firefighter and taken to a local animal shelter.

The animal shelter was truly the seventh circle of Hell. All day and night, idiotic dogs barked endlessly. None of the cats spoke English, and my cage had no privacy. I had to learn to feed myself. But all of my suffering paid off, because after a few days, I was adopted by a twenty-something graphic designer named Jeanine.

Jeanine and I share a small one bedroom in Brooklyn. It’s not much, but it’s home. I convinced her to get cable, and my life is pretty good. I like to watch TV with her and snark about all of the stupid humans, or the stupid animals on Animal Planet and Discovery Channel. Jeanine is pretty soft, so she’s easy to manipulate. Occasionally she’ll get out the spray bottle, but I have techniques to deflect her anger. I am very good at being cute, and I plan to use this skill to take over the world someday. But for now, the internet will have to do. I know you’ll be back.  Humans generally can’t resist me when I’m at my most charming.