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2004-10-20 @ 1:52 p.m.
light catty reading material

So I was laying on the couch watching TV last night. I think I was watching the Ken and Barbie dolls on "Fear Factor" drinking maggot and ground stink-bug milkshakes or something. It was high drama all right. Blonde girls trying to control their gag reflexes, while trying not to pop out of their bikini tank tops.

And it was the same thing as every week. Them saying: "I'm more than a blonde girl. I'm really tough." Tough? As compared to what? A Valley Girl shopping at the mall? I really think there may be a subliminal message going on there. I haven't figured out what it is yet, but when I do, you'll be the first to know. I promise.

Of course the guys aren't much better. They are usually either muscle heads with big mouths, or muscle heads with big mouths. Not much variation there. Once in a while they'll throw in some geeky guy who wants to prove something, by claiming victory over these obnoxious muscle heads who probably slammed them into lockers when they were freshmen in high school. But by and large, its the kick-ass girl bartender from Boston or the obnoxious bodybuilder from Muleass, Georgia who always seem to win. And I'm happy for them. They deserve it. They deserve it, if for nothing else, than just eating stinkbug cocktails or anything involving spiders.

But I was watching "Fear Factor" last night and I looked down at my coffee table and there is my kitty, Guard Cat reading. I swear to God! Now this is not unusual. She reads alot. Books like "The Kittens of Eastwick" by John Updike, "Lady Catterley's Lover" by D.H. Lawrence and "The Tao of Cat" by Benjamin Hoff. But I guess tonight, she was taking a little break from the more intellectual fare she usually reads. Because when I looked over, she was reading, "More Dates from Hell"

Whoops. How did she get ahold of MY book? Bad kitty. But she did appear to be enjoying it. Even laughing out loud. So maybe she likes humor. Maybe I'll even let her read some Wittykitty diary entries. Well, on the other hand, in light of my recent tear stained efforts, maybe not.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty