Bored? Weary?

Has crapping on the floor lost its anarchic edge?

Try something new! It's easy! It's fun! It makes GSE cry!

Just follow these simple instructions:

1. Crap in the tray.
2. On exiting the tray, jump briskly, landing with all your considerable weight on the edge of the tray.
3. Get out of the way sharpish.
4. Watch the tray tip, catapulting litter and poo in a graceful arc yards across the room.

Best done at night.

Further oppressed by the catriarchy

We've settled on a compromise - they can come into the bedroom after 6.30am. This morning a squabble broke out about who got to go under the covers first and they started fighting next to my head. I got kicked in the face.

The whole point of cats rather than men is that that sort of thing isn't supposed to happen any more.

A mathematical problem

Persons A, B and C share a kingsized bed.

Person A is 5'6" tall and weighs about 132lbs.
Person B is 16" long and weighs about 11lb.
Person C is 15" long and weighs about 9lbs.
Person A paid for the bed and deals with all the laundry associated with the bed.
Person C randomly attacks persons A and B if they move suddenly in the dark.

Person A seems to end up with less than 20% of the available bed space.

How much space in the bed should person A get and why? Please show workings and any assumptions.

Settling in

The cats have finally made themselves right at home. Do I need to spell it out? No, didn't think so. At least this time, I've known to go for the ultra cheap, ultra easy to clean acrylic carpet rather than the expensive, fancy wool one.

Not that the carpets been laid yet and it's not easy to wash underlay...

In which I am apparently not allowed a social life

Marsha Klein came round for a drink this evening. During the course of the evening Rosa a) crapped on my lap and b) bit Marsha. Someone, I'm not sure who (although it wasn't Marsha or I) crapped on the hall carpet.

Gah. God knows what will happen if I ever get a boyfriend.

3.30am

I have insomnia thanks to partying neighbours and I think that bringing the cats into the bedroom may help me get back to sleep.

The fantasy: the cats curl up on the bed, purr and we all drop off to sleep in a cuddly heap.

The reality: Mits starts a noisy pedicure with much slurping and smacking of the lips. Rosa attacks Mits, attacks me, bites me, climbs into the wastepaper bin, drags out a plastic bag and starts eating it (with much slurping and smacking of the lips), jumps from the bedside cabinet to the chest of drawers and back again repeatedly, shifting the glass top of the bedside cabinet closer and closer to my head until I realise, befuddled, that if she does this again I risk being beheaded. She stops for a bit, attacks me again, returns to the bin. I readjust the glass top.

At 5.30 I decide to get up and turn off the alarm clock. Immediately everyone quietens down, I drop off and we all oversleep severely.

This is why the cats sleep in the kitchen normally.

New flat, same routine 2

BLOODY CATS.

You asked CB. Firing from both guns. First time I've ever had to disinfect the underside of the litter tray too.

Speechless

She just tried to crap on my lap...

An apology

Rosa writes: We're sorry that we haven't posted much recently but we're very busy. In addition to our regular and strenuous routine of crapping all over the kitchen floor, Mits has ripped some beading off a Georgian mahogany cupboard (with her own bare paws), one of us (not saying who) has eaten one of our feather toys and then sicked it all down the front of GSE's television and we've aided GSE's recovery from food poisoning by stamping all over her when she was trying to recover in bed, killing her feet every time she moved and using her duvet covered body as fortifications as we continue our wrestling training.