I know it's so not cool to blog about one's cats, especially with photos, but when you see something like this, there's nothing you can do but grab a camera and throw that shit up on the internet.
Because this is surely the oddest combination of items my apartment's tub has ever been host to:
That's Phineus, on the right, and on the left one of the two beach chairs I salvaged from a trash pile last night. A trash pile twenty feet from my front door. In a sort of 'Hey, it's okay you'll be spending twelve hours on the Public Theater's sidewalk on Thursday - here are some free beach chairs so you're comfy' from God. The chairs are in perfectly serviceable condition, but were Dir Tee, so they each got a little quality time with the Clorox spray and the rinsing and scrubbing. And, for the stripey chair, a little love from Phineus, too. Must keep the chair company while it dries. On Sunday he took a serious nap in the wet tub. While Meg was probably off doing something retarded, like this:
Or she was making a stupid face, like this:
Or reminding Phineus that even though he's the smart one, she's really really skinny:
And he's not:
But they still love each other anyway.
Maybe because she reminds him that he's smart, and he reminds her that he's skinny.
And then he looks at me like, "What the fuck?" while she looks off, all "Please, why the touching?" And I say to him, "What's your problem, fatty? You're the one who sleeps in the wet tub."
But then he'll have something sassy to say about me blogging imaginary conversations between me and my cats late at night, so I don't think I want to start that fight.