When it comes to personal hygiene, I've got this stuff down pat.
Hmmm... Scratch that.
When it comes to PURRsonal hygiene, I've got this stuff down pat.
And why is that?
Because I am a cat.
Heeheeheeheehee... Apparently I'm also a poet, although honestly, I didn't even know it.
Actually, I kinda did.
But back to this stuff about hygiene.
The other day I was up on the bathroom vanity knockin' stuff down - you know, just for the fun of it - when I came across some really stinky stuff.
FYI, if you knock an open jar of stinky stuff down, you end up with a really stinky floor.
So anyway, the next thing I knew, there was white coloured goo all over the bathroom floor. It was everywhere. And when I say everywhere, I LITERALLY MEAN, EVERYWHERE.
Well the peep, bein' a peep, discovered the mess and cried, "Seville! What have you done?"
I, of course, nonchalantly looked about the room. I looked up at the ceiling, then down at the floor. Then back up at the ceiling once more. After my mandatory two minutes of ignoring the peep, I asked, "You were sayin'?"
Well by that time the peep was moppin' up the floor with a rag. Or maybe it was a face cloth. Same thing, really. Whatever.
I mean, if the peep were a cat like me, she wouldn't be needing stinky ol' jars of flower-smellin' cream. She wouldn't be needin' face cloths, either. 'Cause as a cat, I use spit on my very own tongue, and by golly gosh, I get the job done.
But the peep...
When it comes right down to it, she's really just a peep.
And oh my mouses, YOU SHOULD SEE the stack of rose this, and jasmine that, and citrus - EWWW... - whatchamacallits she has. She has more STUFF than Imelda Marcos has shoes. She has more STUFF than a centipede has feet. She has more STUFF than a... Well actually, a centipede does have a whole lot of feet, so maybe... Nah, she has more stuff than a cat like me can count on my four feet. I mean, paws. Whatever.
HOWEVER, she does NOT have more STUFF than a cat like me can knock down.
As for me? Do I have creams and lotions and soaps and things comin' out of my ears? No sirree. Like I said before, just spit is all I need. Spit. PLAIN OL' SPIT. Just... Spit.
And that reminds me. Do any of you cats out there know what happens when one attempts to apply said spit to a peep's face? Any of you have experience with that? 'Cause I've tried it and... Uh..
Well let me just say, the peep's reaction was not the reaction I had anticipated. There were no thank-yous involved. Not an ounce of gratitude at all. In fact...
In fact, what I have discovered is, such acts of kindness on my part cause peeps to use even MORE of their stinky ol' stupid bathroom stuff.
Not to mention a whole lot of HBO words.
Although not nearly as many as when they find you knockin' their stinky jars and bottles of floral stinky stuff down.
Did I say spit? I might have meant drool.