Oh. My. Mouses.
Of all the nerve.
I can't BELIEVE she did that.
I know, I know... I know what you're thinkin'. You're thinkin', what has the peep done now?
Well to be honest, on ANY OTHER given day, your question would be totally valid.
Any other day? Heck, what am I sayin'? Any other time of day is more like it, 'cause let me tell you somethin', the peep does moused-up stuff, multiple times, EVERY day of the week. I know. I live with her, you see.
But in this particular case, it is not the peep with whom I am annoyed.
Did I say annoyed? I MEANT to say, bothered. And insulted. And even a little... Hmmm... Angry, I do believe.
So this is what happened to me this past week:
Those of you who follow me on Facebook might be aware of the thoughtless, hurtful, and nasty comment someone left on my fan page. It was awful. It made both the peep and me feel really, really horrible, so...
So I replied to said comment, tellin' this person how what she said was not helpful in the least. How it could serve no purpose but to make my peeps feel sad.
And then, in a second comment...
I corrected her grammar.
Oh, I'm not apologising for that. Oh no sirree. It had to be done, you see, because her grammar was atrocious, to say the least. Bad enough to get her a six by nine foot cell in Grammar Jail, for sure.
But then I had second thoughts. I wondered if maybe I should simply delete the comment and ban the woman from my fan page. That way, neither I nor the peep would ever have to deal with her again, AND she wouldn't be embarrassed by havin' had her grammar corrected by a cat. 'Cause some peeps take offence to that.
So I went back to the post, and do you know what I found?
NOTHIN'. Nothin' at all.
So of course, I figured she had seen the errors of her ways, and taken her comment down.
But then, I found out through a pal, the comment was still there for all to see. All but ME.
Do you know what she had done?
SHE. HAD. BLOCKED. ME.
That's right, my friends. She had blocked ME, Seville the Cat.
Of all the lousy, good-for-nothin', Poopy Panty PeePs.
I had been robbed. ROBBED, I tell you. Robbed of the opportunity to block that cruel and heartless peep. There I was, all set to block her, ONLY TO DISCOVER she had blocked ME!
So I dug in my claws, and...
Yeah, yeah... Sorry 'bout that, Peepers. I know I was sittin' on your lap at the time, but I had to dig my claws into SOMETHIN'.
So anyway, I have her name, rank, and serial...
Okay, so maybe I don't. Maybe all I actually have is her name, but if she ever comes back, she had best watch out for a certain marmalade cat.
'Cause we marmies, we don't get mad.
We marmalade cats don't get mad at all.
Instead, we much prefer...
To get even.