public service announcement

The followin' is a public service announcement, paid for by...

By uh...

Hmmm...

Hey Peepers!  You willin' to toss a few toonies my way to pay for this here pubic service announcement, I'm makin'?

No?

Hmph.

MOUSES!

Well how 'bout one tooney, then?

A looney?

Maybe a quarter or two?

Still no?  Still?

Well then, uh...

I know!  A few treats.  I'm sure you can spare a few treats.  Bonus treats, we'll call 'em

What do you MEAN you just gave me treats?  What do you MEAN?

Oh yeah.

MOUSES!

Er-hmm.  The followin' is a public service announcement.  APPARENTLY, it's totally free.

Paid for by no one but me.

MOUSES!

And now for the announcement:  Okay kitties out there.  Kitties and doggies and ferrets and anyone else to whom this might pertain.  Do you have a fan page on Facebook?  You do?  Well if so, please be aware there are scammers out to get us four-legged social media stars.  Scammers like the "Restricted Account Information" and the "Business Account Maintenance Standards" pages.  These are NOT real pages, my friends.  They're fake.  Fake as fake can be.  Fake as the diamonds on a burlesque dancer's short dress.

NEVER MIND HOW I KNOW 'BOUT BURLESQUE DANCERS' ATTIRE.

MOUSES!

But back to the business at paw.  These SCAMMERS are taggin' hundreds of pages, pretendin' to represent Facebook and/or META security and whatnot.  They tag you in a post and say that if you don't click on the link they provide within 24 hours or five days or the like, you'll lose all access to your fan page.

Whatever you do, DO NOT CLICK.

Now I don't actually know what will happen if you do click on their links 'cause I never have, but rest assured, IT'S GONNA BE BAD.

MOUSES!

Instead of clickin' on their links, report 'em and block 'em.   Report and block.  REPORT and BLOCK.  That's the best thing to do.  

Report 'em!

BLOCK 'EM!

Do what I say AND do what I do.

MOUSES!

This mornin', I awoke to a notification from one of these scammers who had tagged my fan page.  Another notification.  The THIRD one in less than three weeks!  And I'm sick and tired of this nonsense.  Sick and tired, to be sure.

So remember, my pals, if your fan page gets tagged by one of these scammers, you know what to do: REPORT 'em and BLOCK 'em and if you happen to find their actual address...

Well...

Well used kitty litter makes a wonderful gift.

Really WELL used kitty litter, that is.

MOUSES!

*******************************

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

I'm back!

I'm back!

I'm BAAAH-AAAACK.

I said, I'M BACK!

And for the benefit of those at the back of the room who might not have already heard.

I AM BACK.

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' the peeps, Saffy, and I; all went on vacation.  Went on vacation to some sunny place with not too much heat.  Went on vacation to get away from the hustle and bustle of nappin' and snoozin' and snackin', not to mention lookin' for decent-sized sunpuddles and things.

Well...

Well that would be wrong.

MOUSES!

Truth is, we weren't on vacation at all.

MOUSES!

So why did I miss two blog posts, you ask?

That's a very good question, my friends.  A very good question, indeed.  Suffice it to say, it was Peepers' fault.

Of course.

MOUSES!

Thing is, somethin' happened to the phone.  Line went dead.  Dead as a door nail, for sure.  And the phone peeps couldn't come out to fix whatever it was for a big ol' whole week.

MOUSES!

But luckily for me, I still had the Internet.  Now it was slow.  Slow as molasses, they say.  But although obviously affected by whatever was botherin' the phone, it was NOT dead.  Just slow.  Slow, slow, SLOW.

Think I might have mentioned that.  That it was slow.

MOUSES!

So if I had the Internet, WHY did I miss two blog posts, you again ask?

Very, VERY good question, indeed.

"I'm not sitting there at your desk for hours on end trying to publish your posts," she said.  "I'm not sitting there waiting and waiting and watching that little circle thing go around and around.  Believe it or not, Seville, I have better things to do."

"Well so do I!" I replied.  "I've got my afternoon nap scheduled for three.  And a snack after that.  WHICH IS WHY I need you to sit there and wait 'til the little circle thingy stops circlin' so you can publish my post, and..."

"Seville, I have OTHER things to do."

"AS. DO. I."

Did I not mention that nap?

MOUSES!

So this went back and forth for a bit but it was finally decided that until the Internet and phone were back up and runnin' properly, my postin' would have to wait.

Although to be perfectly honest...

To be perfectly honest, it wasn't actually a decision we both made.  It was more like a situation where Peepers got up and left the room without so much as an excuse me or a by your leave or anythin' like that.

The nerve.

MOUSES!

WHICH IS WHY my missin' two blog posts was, like I said...

ALL. PEEPERS'. FAULT.

'Cause what's an hour or five sittin' at the computer watchin' a little circle go 'round and 'round, bein' told the connection has timed out over and over again, to a peep?  What's that to a peep when said peep knows she's helpin' her favourite bloggin' kitty out?

It's not like I could have wasted my time like that.  I had IMPORTANT things to do.

You know, like my previously scheduled afternoon nap.

MOUSES!

*******************************

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

talk about scary!

Talk about scary.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' if I'm talking 'bout scary stuff, I surely must be talking 'bout Hallowe'en.

And you know what?

YOU'RE RIGHT!

Kinda.

Sorta.

Whatever.

Okay, so Hallowe'en IS tomorrow and it would be wrong for me to not say something 'bout that.  I mean, Hallowe'en comes but once a year, right?  To not give it a mention at all would be a huge omission on my party.

So...

So, yeah, tomorrow is Hallowe'en and there will be ghosties and goblins runnin' about; not to mention all the kiddies out there dressed up as that incredibly dashing marmalade cat named Seville.

As if they could possibly dress up to look as handsome as me.

MOUSES!

But anyway, like I said, tomorrow is Hallowe'en and I'm bettin' all my pals out there are gonna want to re-read some of my Hallowe'en stories...  I mean, REAL LIFE ADVENTURES that happened on Hallowe'ens past, so...

So...

SO...

So just click on the titles of each of the followin' REAL LIFE ADVENTURES and you'll get to read all about 'em:  the broom closet; a Hallowe'en adventure; and now, the conclusion; the Hallowe'en visitor; the Hallowe'en ball; the contest; and finally, the haunting.

But in the meantime, let me tell you what's REALLY scary.  Really, really, REALLY scary.  Way scarier than anythin' Hallowe'en might bring.

No, not Peepers' hair.

On the other paw, Peepers' hair IS super scary but believe it or not - and I know this will be extremely difficult to fathom - there's somethin' even scarier than that.

No, really.  I kid you not!

So let me tell you all 'bout it.  Once again, the Internet was givin' me grief and Peepers had to set up a new modem Friday night only to find out...  I mean, ONLY TO BE REMINDED how much of an utter technological nincompoop she is.  She was so beside herself, she was practically pullin' out her own hair!

Hmmm....  Wonder if that's why Peepers' hair is as scary lookin' as it is.

MOUSES!

But anyway....

But anyway, two hours down the drain Friday night, AND ANOTHER FOUR OR FIVE HOURS yesterday mornin' and early afternoon, and...

And we finally have an Internet connection once more.

The woman is almost bald now, and that's not at all pleasant for me to see, but at least my Internet connection is up and runnin'.

What's that?  What's that, Peepers?  What's that you're babblin' on about now?

You did too.  I saw you.  You did too pull out several of your hairs outta frustration.

Oh go stick a sock in it, woman.  Here's a couple Toonies.  Go buy yourself a nice wig.

You can even shop for it on-line.

Now.

MOUSES!

**********************

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

ding dong

Ding dong, the witch is dead.  La la la la la....  la la la lah.

I know, I know...   I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' ol' Peepers has really done it this time for me to be callin' her a witch.  And you know somethin', my friends?

You would be wrong.

MOUSES!

Oh, I'm sure she's done somethin', all right.  She usually has.  Even if I don't happen to know what that somethin' is that she's done, I know she's likely done it, for sure, but...

But this time...

Believe it or not...

This particular time, I'm not talking 'bout the peep.

MOUSES!

Truth be told, I'm not actually talking 'bout witches, either.  Nor goblins nor ghosties nor anythin' else Hallowe'en and spooky related.  THIS TIME, I'm talking 'bout the dingin' and the dongin' of bells.

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' I'm talking 'bout door bells and such.

Well...

Well that would be wrong, too, I'm afraid, on account of my talking 'bout telephone bells and...

Okay, so I'm not talkin' about the bell of a phone.  I'm actually talking 'bout my weird and wonderful AND INCREDIBLY FRUSTRATING - 'cause it so often doesn't work - Internet connection.

Which is kinda connected to the phone.  Same company, at least.

MOUSES!

Yup, yup..  Uh-huh...  Yeah, I hear ya, my friends.  I KNOW our fair province was attacked by a hurricane last week AND I KNOW that's bound to play havoc with phones and Internet and things, but...

BUT MY PROBLEMS HAVE BEEN GOIN' ON FOR THE LAST SEVERAL YEARS.

Plus, immediately after the hurricane, once the power was back up and runnin', the Internet was doin' just fine.

For once.

MOUSES!

You know, the fact that my Internet connection was runnin' smoothly right after the hurricane was amazin' enough for me to consider takin' out a full-page ad.  Yup, I gave it some real consideration, for sure.

Until I found out how much one of those ads actually costs.

MOUSES!

But by Wednesday that ol' Internet was actin' up like a two-year-old in a candy store havin' a tantrum while comin' down from a sugar-induced high.  I tried callin' the company but apparently they don't take calls from us cats.

And I don't know why that is, on account of the fact that EVERYONE KNOWS WE CATS RULE THE INTERNET.

'Mongst other things.

So Peepers had to deal with 'em and she SAID it was all fixed; but there were problems yesterday as well as the day before that, and today it's barely hangin' on by a thread.  Yup, barely hangin' on by the thread of a wee kitten's whisker, it is.

I'm tellin' ya, one day...

ONE DAY I, SEVILLE THE CAT, am gonna be rulin' the world and when I am, MY Internet had better be workin' just fine or I'll cry OFF WITH THEIR HEADS as I adjust my solid gold crown.

My gosh, a gold crown really would suit my marmalade furs.

But in the meantime,  I'm just gonna sit here and sing my little song, and...

Umm...

Have a little snack.

MOUSES!

**********************

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

'twas I

It was me.

Or should that be I...

Hmmm...  I know!  *snaps claws*  'TWAS I.

I like that.  Yup, I like that a lot.  Makes me sound all super smart and stuff, it does.

'TWAS I!

MOUSES!

Hey Peepers!  If Zuckerberg calls back, tell him I'm not in, would ya?

What do MEAN he's on the other line?  What do you MEAN?

Oh for mousin' out loud.

MOUSES!

Hey Marky!  Marky Baby, how have you been?

Yeah, I know we were just talkin' a few minutes ago.  Don't know how we got disconnected.  Must have been a bad line...

Or maybe my paw accidentally slipped causin' me to hang up.

MOUSES!

So Marky Baby...  Where were we, huh?

Oh yeah.

Uh-huh, uh-huh...

Yeah, yeah, millions of users...  No, HUNDREDS of millions, you say.

Figures.

MOUSES!

So um...  So how come you're callin' me?

Yeah, I KNOW I accepted responsibility for the mass Facebook outage the other day.  But in my own defense...

Umm...

Well that was just somethin' I said over on Twitter.

Well OF COURSE I didn't admit to bein' responsible on Facebook.  Facebook was down, remember?  I couldn't log on.

Sometimes it's hard to believe this guy is actually in charge over there.

MOUSES!

So like I said, how come you're callin' me?

Again.

MOUSES!

Uh-huh, uh-huh...  Yeah, you already mentioned the hundreds of millions of users who were impacted.  All 'round the globe...  Yeah, yeah, in practically every country....  Okay, I've got it now, Marky-poo.  Lots of people were upset, and they're all complainin' to you, and... 

But...  But again, I've gotta ask: how come you're callin' ME?

Oh.

You did, huh?  You actually DID trace that ol' outage back to me?

Hmmm...

Well...

Well...

Well have you looked at Facebook lately, Zuckerberg, my man?  I mean, have you actually REALLY LOOKED?  REALLY AND TRULY LOOKED?  Like looked long and hard?  'Cause if you have, you'll notice there are a whole lotta cats over on Facebook usin' it every single day.  Every single hour.  Every minute, in fact!  We cats have got fan pages and profiles and memes all about us, and...

And...

And cats have a way of makin' mischief, you see.  A slip of the paw here...  A flick of the tail there...  Some loose fur drifts down into the computer and gets into where it shouldn't be gettin', and...

BAMM!

So it's like this, Marky, my man: You've gotta make Facebook cat-proof, you see.  You've gotta make your product able to handle the antics of us cats!

EVERY THINK ABOUT THAT?

It's no wonder they're all upset at you.

MOUSES!

***********************

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

the dark side

Well that's rude.

MOUSES!

*furiously types an even ruder response*

TAKE THAT, YOU LILY-LIVERED, WART-INFESTED, ROTTEN FISH BREATH STINKIN' TROLL.

MOUSES!

*sits back with satisfaction and waits for a reply*

You ever notice?  You ever notice, my friends, how some peeps out there have nothin' better to do than troll around on social media makin' rude and ugly comments, and...

WHA???  What the mouses?  He said WHAT???  Well I'll show him.  I'll tell him where to go.  I'll...

I'll...

I'LL...

I'll tell him his mama wears combat boots.  NO, I'LL TELL HIM his mama WOULD wear combat boots if her mug wasn't as ugly as his, and...

No, that's mean.  That's mean for his mama, I mean.  Besides, I have no idea what she looks like.  His mama might be the most beautiful woman on earth for all I know.

On the other paw...

On the other paw, she might, in fact, look exactly like him.

MOUSES!

I shall be the bigger cat, and I shall leave his mama out of this debate.

Debate?  More like WAR.

MOUSES!

LISTEN HERE, YOU FLEA-INFESTED SCUMBAG OF THE SLIMIEST SCUM THAT EVER OOZED OUT FROM UNDERNEATH THAT OL' PRIMORDIAL ROCK, YOU MAKE ONE MORE COMMENT LIKE THAT LAST ONE, AND I'M GONNA MAKE YOU REGRET EVER LEARNIN' HOW TO TYPE.

MOUSES!

Peeps.  They think they're a match for a cat.

What's this now?  *jaw drops*  He's callin' my peep - MY PEEPERS - A WHAT?  Of all the nerve.  I left his mama out of my comments.  The least he can do is leave out my peep.

Although he is kinda right about the peep's hair.

BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT.  The point is, this fight is between me and him, and he has no business insultin' my peep.

Even if her hair does sometimes look like she went and stuck her finger in an electrical outlet.

MOUSES!

"Seville, what are you doing with my Facebook account?"

Defendin' your honour, Peepers.  You can thank me later.

MOUSES!

What's he sayin' now?  Is he still trollin' around insultin' my peep?

Hmmm...

HMMM...

Looks like he's given up for a bit.  Must have realised he was no match for me, Seville the Cat, THE KEYBOARD WARRIOR OF THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY.

"Seville!  Remove that picture right now.  It's disgusting!"

But I...  I was just...  I was just catsplainin' to this idiot how things actually work in this world, and how he's as stupid as the mother of all stupid rocks.  He's not very bright, you see, and he needs the added visual aids.  THUS, the picture of what I left in the ol' litter box this mornin', after eatin' that brick of stinky ol' cheese.

"So you're in an on-line fight with a troll."

Uh-huh.

"Using MY Facebook account?"

Uh-huh.

"And exactly what makes your behaviour any different from that of the troll?  Why is he a troll but you're not, even though you're BOTH behaving in the very same manner?"

*rolls eyes*  Because I'm a cat, Peepers.  Cats can't be trolls.  FACT.  Plus...

Plus, look what he wrote about you, right here.  See how he described your....

"He said WHAT about my hair???  And he had the nerve to say I wear a mask not out of care and concern for others during a pandemic, but rather to prevent people from turning to stone after looking at my face?  And then he said I...???  SHOVE OVER, SEVILLE.  Your peep has some typing to do."

*grins from ear to ear*

Welcome to the dark side, my peep.

MOUSES!

***********************

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

twenty-three weeks

'CAUSE I'M A BLOGGIN' KITTY, YOU FREAKS!

Sorry.  Sorry!  Gosh darn it, I SAID I was sorry.  I usually only call Peepers a freak.  Gimme ten minutes and I'll come up with somethin' else to call you.

MOUSES!

BLOGGIN'.  BLOGGIN'!  I'll explain it to you again: I have a blog.  Yes, I am a cat AND I have a blog, and that means I need the Internet, you see.

Let's try this ONCE MORE.  I, Seville the Cat, have a blog.  And I can't write my blog unless I can get on-line, and I...

YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW SLIPPERY THESE HERE COMPUTER KEYS ARE FOR MY CLAWS?  I can't be fiddlin' over and over and over again, hopin' and purrin' that THIS time it'll work.  I'M SEVILLE THE CAT!  I CAN'T WORK WITH NOTHIN' MORE THAN A HOPE AND A PURR.

*hangs up phone*

Boy-oh-boy, you'd THINK our Internet provider would be proud to have me, Seville the Cat, usin' their services, but from the looks of things...

Awww....  MOUSES!

*deep breaths*

I'm upset.  Peepers is upset.  The neighbours are probably upset, too, on account of that ol' scream Peepers let out 'bout an hour ago.

It was a doozy, for sure.

The scream, I mean.  Not the peep.

MOUSES!

It's bad enough I've been cooped up here with the peeps for one hundred and twenty-nine million, one hundred and ninety-three thousand, six hundred cat seconds, due to this pandemic thingy.  And now I have to be cooped up with 'em with lousy Internet service, too?

It's more than a kitty can bear, I tell you.  MORE THAN A KITTY CAN BEAR!

MOUSES!

The peeps are seriously thinking 'bout switchin' Internet providers.  Switchin' is a hassle, Peepers says, but...

But I won't have to do anythin', so it isn't a hassle for me.  As opposed to my not bein' able to get on-line when I need to blog, or everythin' bein' so slow I can't visit my pals on Facebook.  Now THOSE THINGS are hassles, for sure.

For me.

And that's what counts.

What's more, what's a hassle for me is a hassle for others, too, 'cause...

'Cause when I start complaining 'bout feelin' hassled...

WATCH OUT.

MOUSES!

NO, I'm not thinking 'bout complainin' by meowing, loudly.  I could, of course, but that's not the most effective method of complainin', you see.

The MOST EFFECTIVE method of complainin' is...

POOPS IN SHOES.

THAT'S how you get their attention, for sure.

MOUSES!

The question is, how can I get my paws on all the shoes belongin' to the peeps in charge of the Internet?

Hmmm...

I know!

Peepers, prepare the teleportation device.

Why?

WHY?

'Cause I've got some poopin' to do.

MOUSES!

I had best pack a couple masks to take with me, I think.

You know, to be socially responsible and stuff.

AND I had best pack some dairy type snacks like uh...  Like cheese and a big bowl of milk.

If you're gonna poop in peeps' shoes to make a statement, you wanna make that statement as soft and as STINKY as can be.

MOUSES!

***********************

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

I'm back!

I'M BACK!

Sort of.

MOUSES!

If you recall, in my last blog post written way back when, I explained how I had technical problems comin' out of my wazoo.  Now I don't rightly know what a wazoo is, but I'm pretty sure that's from where my problems were comin'.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, ALL MY PROBS can be traced back to ol' Peepers and her total lack of technical Internet knowledge and complete and utter computer incompetency but unfortunately, it is I, Seville the Cat, who is sufferin'.

I'd say I was sufferin' in silence but you know me, silent sufferin' is simply not in my nature.

Like I said before:

MOUSES!

The new computer is up and runnin' and I'm beginnin' to adjust to it, I guess.  Darn thing is awfully sensitive though.  I told it it was a piece of you-know-what-from-the-litterbox yesterday mornin' and as a result, it got all touchy and started cryin' and...

Wait a minute.  I don't think that's the kind of sensitivity I meant.

MOUSES!

Anyway, a cat drops a loose whisker on this here keyboard and the next thing you know, said cat has written multiple paragraphs of nonsensical nonsense.

MOUSES!

And I still haven't figured out how to copy and paste on account of there not bein' any right and left click thingies for my claws to grab hold of, and sometimes a kitty NEEDS to copy and paste the latest recipe for Cheddar and Nip crackers and such, you know?

Of course you do.

MOUSES!

And then there's my book.

Duh, duh, duh, duh...

It's still on the old computer, I'm afraid.  The data transfer didn't work properly and my book, unlike the peep's stupid files, came out as gobbley-goop.

MOUSES!

And if you think all that's bad, wait 'til you hear 'bout the next part.

Somewhere along the line, the password to our old Wifi got changed.  The peep says she didn't do it.  I know I didn't do it - I think - but try as I might, I couldn't for the nine lives of me get on-line with the new computer.

So we had to get a new modem.

MOUSES!

Peepers managed to set that up yesterday and on the plus side, our Internet is now WAY FASTER than it was before.  Faster like in the difference between a turtle and a roadrunner, for sure.

MOUSES!

And now today, the security services are back!  Yup, they're installed and everythin'.  I watched while the guy from the phone company remotely took control of the computer and...  Remotely...  Sounds mysterious, doesn't it?

MOUSES!

Mysterious or not, I watched the little arrow thingy move this way and that across the screen.  I tried to catch said arrow but alas, it was as elusive as the little red dot.

MOUSES!

So now, on a Sunday afternoon, here I am.

Writin'.

MOUSES!

And HOPEFULLY by Wednesday I'll be more used to this here new computer.

'Cause boy-oh-boy do I have stuff to share.

MOUSES!

I got probs

Please excuse the poor grammar, my friends, but like I said...

I GOT PROBS!

In other words, I have BIG problems, for sure.

MOUSES!

So it's like this:  Due to technical difficulties, I shall be off-line until further notice.  I will be unable to check in on Facebook and Twitter, and unable to approve comments on my blog.

Okay, so you may have already noticed I HAVE BEEN off-line since Tuesday night.  I shall continue to be off-line until tomorrow or Tuesday.

The problem is...

I GOT PROBS!

And my biggest problem is the peep.

MOUSES!

It all started with the Windows 10 upgrade...

...WHICH PEEPERS NEVER DID.

MOUSES!

Well the deadline for goin' from seven to ten was this past week.  Meanwhile, the peep got me a new computer.  It was time.  My old one was pretty old and probably all clogged up with cat hair and stuff, anyway.

And the new computer was gonna have the new Windows 10 already on it.

But all the pictures of me and my book and stuff had to be transferred from the old computer to the new one, and the computer store is pretty far away from my house, and it's winter in Canada and roads are bad, and...

And MEANWHILE, the phone stopped workin'.  Likely on account of the freezin' rain and ice we had on Sunday.

That didn't help.

So the phone peeps are comin' tomorrow to fix the phone line, and hopefully set up my new computer, too, which Peepers is pickin' up - well by the time this post goes live it'll have been PICKED up - with all my files transferred onto it on Saturday.  I figure if I purr really nicely at the phone guy and maybe rub up against him and give him a little tickle with my whiskers, I can get him to set up the computer for me...

...'CAUSE YOU KNOW PEEPERS WILL NEVER FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO IT.

And in case you're wonderin' how you're able to read this post without my bein' able to be on-line, it's 'cause I spent last Tuesday furiously workin' away on posts for Wednesday and today, then scheduled 'em to publish automatically.  HOPEFULLY - paws crossed - by this comin' Wednesday, everythin' will be sorted.  But if not, I WILL BE BACK.  I just don't know exactly when.

MOUSES!
 
I'm tellin' ya, I have THE WORST IT SUPPORT in the history of IT support.

Oh sure, Peepers can spell and stuff - KINDA, as long as the words she's spellin' aren't too long  - and she's okay with helpin' me with editin', but when it comes to bein' IT support, she's about as useless as an ice cube at the north pole.

Or a hot water bottle in a sauna.

Or a...

Well you get the picture, I am sure.

MOUSES!

peeps

Peeps; they can send a man to the moon, but ask 'em to provide reliable Internet service when the weather is iffy - like when it snows - and it's like you're asking 'em to reenact Mission Impossible or somethin'.

MOUSES!

So I guess it's a good thing it doesn't snow on the moon.

Or does it...

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, I've got Internet, I don't have Internet.  I've got Internet, I don't have Internet.  I've got...  Well you get the picture, I am sure.

MOUSES!

Not only that, but the Bird TV is still on the fritz.  Yup, that's right.  Still no birdies at the new feeders.  Not since Christmas Day.

MOUSES!

So...

So obviously, I was gonna have to find somethin' else to keep me amused.

I was gonna play with some yarn early this mornin', but you know how that story ends.  It always ends the same.  It always ends with the peep sayin' somethin' about my needin' to stop slobberin' all over her yarn.

And truth be told, I wasn't even slobberin' all over her yarn at the time, on account of my not havin' gotten to the slobberin' part yet.  I was still at the rippin' the yarn apart with my claws stage when she went on her little rampage.

MOUSES!

Then I thought I'd biff Rushton's tail for a bit.

Well, as you can imagine, that didn't go over too well with Rushy.

MOUSES!

But then I remembered 'bout the peeps gettin' a puzzle for Christmas, AND I ALSO REMEMBERED, said puzzle was out on the dining room table.  Perhaps the peeps might require my puzzle-solving assistance?

Okay, so it's a different kind of puzzle solving than what I'm used to, as puzzles aren't quite the same as mysteries for which I am adept at solving, as everyone knows.

But still...

Turns out, my assistance wasn't required.

Or so they said.

MOUSES!

'Cause truth be told, SOMEONE'S assistance is required on account of that ol' puzzle still lyin' there on the table in little piles of bits and pieces with no apparent headway bein' made.  I mean, I THINK they're supposed to piece the pieces together into one solid picture.  Isn't that correct?  CLEARLY, the peeps do not have the necessary skills or brainpower required to put that ol' puzzle together, whereas I do - you know, on account of my bein' a cat, instead of a peep  - and EVERYONE KNOWS knockin' puzzle pieces onto the floor helps get the creative juices goin' and uh...

Well...

WELL IT JUST HELPS, OKAY?

MOUSES!

So after my failed attempts at finding a way to amuse myself this mornin', I decided to take a well-deserved nap.  Well-deserved on account of yarn shreddin', tail biffin', and puzzle piece scatterin' being EXTREMELY tiresome work.

And they're appetite buildin' work, too.  So with a nap and a snack under my belt, it was once again time for me to find myself somethin' to do.

What to do, what to do...

Hmmm....

The peep did some laundry the other day AND, if I remembered correctly, instead of puttin' it away like a normal peep would, she laid it out on the guest room bed.

HMMM...

And there's nothin' like rollin' around on clean laundry to get rid of any loose marmalade furs one might happen to have.

After that, I could perhaps continue my gravitational science experiment!  You know the one.  Do items of clothing fall to the floor at the same speed as sheets and pillow cases and stuff?  Do different items of clothing fall at different rates?  If a kitty uses extra force to knock a laundry item off the bed, does said item fall to the floor with extra speed?  Scientific stuff like that.

HMMM...

Yes, an afternoon spent conducting SCIENTIFIC EXPERIMENTS on how the gravitational force of the Earth affects the speed at which items fall sounds like a very good way to amuse myself, for sure.

And if I could get myself to the moon, I could try conducting a similar experiment there.  After all, on a day such as today, it WOULD PROBABLY BE EASIER to get to the moon than find reliable Internet service 'round here.

MOUSES!

stupid

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

STUPID, STUPID, STUPID.

STUPID.

MOUSES!

This is so stupid.

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', somethin' has gotten Seville the Cat all riled up.  Somethin' has gotten his knickers in a twist.  SOMETHIN' has made Seville the Cat put on a pair of knickers, just so he could twist 'em.

And you know what?

What you're thinkin' is exactly right.

MOUSES!

It all started early this mornin' when Peep #1 fired up the ol' computer for me, so that I could check my social media and stuff, then do the finishin' touches on Part I of my new adventure.

That's right!  My adventure is all set...

Scratch that.

My new adventure WAS all set to air today.

But then the stupid stuff happened.

MOUSES!

Well the peep fired up the ol' computer and I went straight to my fan page on Facebook.

Scratch that.

The peep fired up the ol' computer and I TRIED to go straight to my fan page on Facebook.

BUT FACEBOOK WOULDN'T LET ME LOG IN.

MOUSES!

I tried and I tried and I tried.  I tried like five million and twenty-nine times.

SERIOUSLY, I did.

Okay, so maybe I didn't.  Maybe it was only like five million and twenty-eight times, I tried.  But however many times it actually was, it was a really lot of times.

And it was all to no avail.

*sighs*

So then I got the peep to access her timeline, and do you know what?

SHE COULDN'T LOG IN, EITHER.

MOUSES!

We can't even report the problem to Facebook, 'cause in order to report a problem, YOU'VE GOTTA BE ON FACEBOOK TO REPORT IT.

How so very stupid.

MOUSES!

So we reported it to 'em on Twitter, instead.

Haven't heard anythin' back yet, though.

*sighs*

FINALLY, I said to myself, "SCREW THIS!  Today is publishin' day.  I need to finish up the editin' of Part 1 of my latest adventure, and then the peep needs to piZap me up some pictures, so that I can publish."

Well...

Well it turns out, we can't log into piZap, either.

MOUSES!

At least we can't get into our professional account with the added little extras.  You know the ones.  The little extras that makin' peein' and zappin' easier, and makes the pictures so much more fun.

AND I CAN'T HAVE AN ADVENTURE WITHOUT PICTURES.

MOUSES!

We think we used to access our piZap account through Facebook.

MOUSES!

So long story short....

Yeah, yeah, I know...   Kinda late for makin' this short, but...

But anyway, that's why I'm not startin' my adventure today.  THAT'S why, instead, I'm just postin' this stupid post 'bout how stupid Facebook is bein' all stupid and stuff.  THAT'S why I'm takin' this moment to just sit here and complain about things that are stupid.

Hmmph!

So that's how my day went today.  How was yours?

MOUSES!

blackmail

I sat at my desk, starin' at the computer.  Beads of sweat ran down my forehead and onto my cheeks before inching their way along my handsome whiskers.

Drip.  Drip.  Drip.

I glanced downward, makin' sure my perspiration wasn't drippin' onto the keyboard.

What was I gonna to do?

Almost four hundred dollars in bit coins.  That was their demand.  Did I have four hundred dollars in my froggy bank?  I didn't think so.  Could I get that amount by sellin' nip?  Probably not.  At least not in a few hours.  Peep #1 said my nip plants had to grow a lot bigger before harvestin'.

WHAT WAS I GONNA DO?

I wiped a tear from my eye.  And then another.  And then one more.

WHAT WAS I GONNA DO?

I peered more closely at the screen before me.

Upon receiving cash I will destroy dirt on you and you would never again heard about me.

The bloggin' kitty in me immediately started to correct the blackmailer's lousy grammar.  I'll correct it and send it back, I thought, before I stopped myself short.  The blackmailer was after money, I realised, not tutoring in English.  Although goodness knows some English tutorin' was SERIOUSLY needed.

MOUSES!

Three hundred and ninety-nine dollars.  They might as well have asked for a million.

MOUSES!

I studied the blackmailer's e-mail address.  It wasn't one I recognised, and that was for sure.  Ganhard blah blah blah at bol dot com.  BOL stood for Bark Out Loud.  That was doggy-speak.  Was I bein' blackmailed by a dog?

MOUSES!

Nah, I had lots of doggy pals, and there wasn't a blackmailer in the pack.  This was much more likely the work of the Weasel Syndicate, for sure.  Weasels impersonatin' dogs.  Now that I could believe.

MOUSES!

They had dirt on me.  Dirty pictures, they said.  Pictures of me nekkid, they were gonna post all over the Internet.

AND they knew all my social media accounts, too.  Every single one.  I gulped, hard.  Would I be wakin' up to pictures of me nekkid all over Facebook tomorrow mornin'?  All over Twitter, too?

WHAT WAS I GONNA DO?

"PEEEE-PRRRRSSSSSSSSS....."  I cried.  "Peepers!  I'm in desperate need of your help."

The peep came runnin'.  Well hobblin', actually, for she managed to stub a toe while racing into the room.

"Peepers, I need four hundred dollars, and I NEED IT RIGHT NOW."

The peep looked confused, although to be honest, no more confused than her usual look.  MOUSES!

"Look!" and I pointed to the e-mail still up on the screen.  "I have until 6:40 this evenin'.  If I don't pay the money into their Bitcoin Wallet by then, they're gonna completely ruin my reputation, for sure.  MOUSES!"

The peep's look of confusion grew even deeper, if you can believe.

"See?  Peepers, are you payin' attention?  PEEPERS!  Pay attention to me.  I need to send this Ganhard heir o' de casa guy $399 by this evenin'.  I'm desperate, Peepers.  DESPERATE, I say.  I can pay you back.  Honestly.  Maybe.  Kinda.  Perhaps in a very-small-instalments-over-a-number-of-years kinda way."

"What's an heir o' de casa?" the peep asked.

"I don't know, it's part of his e-mail address."

The peep furrowed her brow.

"Peepers, please don't make me beg.  PLEASE don't.  Beggin' is not becomin' of a cat.  PLEASE...."

Liftin' me into her arms, the peep sat down at the desk, and read the offendin' e-mail from beginnin' to end.  "They have pictures of you naked," she said.

"I KNOW!" I cried in despair.  "And they're gonna post 'em all over my social media if I can't get my paws on the money I need."

"But Seville, you post naked pictures of yourself all the time.  You're a cat.  You don't wear clothes.  You don't even wear a collar!"

"I KNOW!" I cried more loudly.  "And they're gonna post 'em...  Oh," I interrupted myself.  "Ohhh..." and realisation finally dawned.  "So you mean..."

The peep nodded.

"Oh.  Well that's kinda stupid of 'em, don't you think?  You're right, my pals have seen me nekkid MILLIONS of times.  More nekkid pictures won't come as a surprise.  Even nekkid pictures of those two long-haired freaky marmie brothers of mine, after their havin' lion cuts, wouldn't exactly be indecent.  Well...  Well not really.  Not quite.  Close, but you know...  Nothin' too bad, I suppose.  Certainly nothin' illegal."

The peep smiled.

"Looks like I won't be needin' that money after all, Peepers.  I think I'll just let this one slide.  If they wanna post pictures of me on the Internet, they can post all they like," and I smiled the smile of a Cheshire Cat.

The peep got up.  She started to hobble away.

"DON'T STUB ANOTHER TOE ON THE WAY OUT"  I helpfully cried.

Sittin' back at my desk, I read the e-mail once more.  "Threatenin' to post nekkid pictures of me," I laughed.  "Of me, Seville the Cat.  What will these scammers think of next?  And IMAGINE their thinkin' they could get money from me.  MOUSES!"

"Oohhh..." I whistled.  "But THAT'S interestin', isn't it?" and I looked more closely at the screen on the computer.  "Well gosh golly darn be, would ya look at that."


I thought for a moment.  Then thought a bit more.  "OH PEEEE-PRRRRSSSSSSSSS....." I yelled, and waited for her return.

"Hey Peepers, funny thing.  It turns out, this here ol' blackmail e-mail wasn't for me, after all.  It appears to have been addressed to YOU."

"What?" the peep gasped.

"Peepers," I grinned, "what did you get up to on World Nekkid Gardenin' Day, huh?  Huh?  WHAT ON EARTH DID YOU DO?  And who the mouses was takin' your picture?"

MOUSES!

lies, lies.. all of them, LIES!

Of all the moused-up, mousin', no good for nothin', rascally rascals...

Awww....  MOUSES!

LOCK HIM UP!  I say.

LOCK HIM UP!

That darned, moused-up weasel...

I mean, RODENT.

I MEAN, GROUNDHOG.

LOCK HIM UP.

I'm tellin' ya, that ol' Shubenacadie Sam has some serious answerin' to do.

MOUSES!

It was less than two months ago, when there he was, spoutin' his lies, all over the Internet.  "I didn't see my shadow," he said.  "It's gonna be an early spring, for sure."

Lies, lies...  ALL OF THEM, LIES!

The very ePitome of FaKe News, for sure.

MOUSES!

And now, here we are, at the END of March, well past the official start of spring...

And where is our spring, you ask?

Well I can tell you where it isn't.  It most certainly isn't here.

MOUSES!

But do you know what is?  Do you know what is here, my friends?

I'll tell ya what's here.  I'll tell you what's outside.  I'll tell you what's outside, for sure.


SNOW.

Now in what universe does a kitty associate spring, with snow?

MOUSES!

And not only is there snow, it's even kinda cold outside.

MOUSES!

And what does that rascally rabbit...

I mean, VARMINT...

I MEAN, GROUNDHOG, have to say?  What is Shubenacadie Sam sayin' about his false forecasting 'bout an early spring?

Just because I SAID there'd be an early spring, you didn't have to believe me.

Yup, that's an exact quote, for sure.

I have it on tape, and everythin'.

MOUSES!

Oh how quickly his tune has changed from only a mere few weeks ago.

You believed me because you WANTED to believe me, Seville.  You WANTED an early spring.  Never once did I FORCE you to believe it would actually happen.

MOUSES!

And I CERTAINLY never made you repeat what I said.

Sam, what the mouses do you think the share button is for?

It's like ol' Shubie was sittin' down in his Mama Nature's basement, sluggin' back the nip - or whatever varmints take - just Makin' up FanciFul, Fictional Forecasts for Sale.

MOUSES!


Well!  Well I know what I'll do.  I know what I'll do, for sure.  The NEXT time I want a weather forecast, I'll...

I'll...

I'LL...

Oh for the love of mouses, I honestly don't know WHAT I'll do.  I could listen to the weatherpeeps, I suppose, but they're not really known for havin' accurate forecastin' abilities, either.

MOUSES!

the purge

Way back when, when the dinosaurs roamed the earth...

Nah, that's not right.

Way back when, when Peep #1 was merely a kitten...

Nope, still not right.  Besides, those two things are pretty much the same thing.

Way back when, in days of yore...

NOW we're talkin'.

MOUSES!


So anyway...

So anyway, maybe like two or three years ago, I remember when tweetin' cats were losin' litters of kittens...  I mean, followers, on Twitter.  A kitty would wake up one mornin' and BAM!  Two followers gone.  Next mornin'?  BAM!  Another three!  The mornin' after that?  BAM!  And another had disappeared.

IT WAS A TWEETIN' NIGHTMARE, FOR SURE.

I remember bein' particularly upset one mornin', when this cute little calico kitty from Moscow I had been tweetin' with, disappeared without warnin'.  One day she was there, and the next, she was gone.  Gone.  GONE, I tell you.  Gone.

Gone like a nip cheese pizza in a room full of kitties.

MOUSES!

Of course, a few days after that, another cat with the same name started followin' me, but believe you me, this new cat was no cat at all.

I had to block her account and everythin'.

MOUSES!

Imagine, Peeps Postin' Pictures of themselves nekkid.

MOUSES!

And that, my friends, was The Great Twitter Purge of...

Whatever that year was.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of purges...

Last year, at my house, we had The Great Purge of 2017.

Let's just say, since then, Peep #1 no longer buys that kinda kibble.

MOUSES!

But ANYWAY...

So anyway, I awoke this mornin' to screams of...

Okay, so they weren't really screams.  It was more like a lot of hollerin'.

Well...  In all honesty, it was more like a few quiet murmurings.  Here and there.  That kinda thing.

But quiet murmurings or not, I immediately headed over to Twitter, for I was afraid there was another purge goin' on.  I was afraid I was losin' my followers!

Turns out, I had actually gained some.

MOUSES!

Actually, lots of my pals had.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of pals...

I don't say it often enough, my friends, but do you know somethin'?  I have THE BEST PALS in the world.  Have I ever told you that, my friends?  Even if I have, I know I haven't told you nearly enough.

You, my friends, are as real to me as my fur-sibs and peeps.

Although truth be told, I kinda like most of you, better.

MOUSES!

What?  WHAT?  What's that, Peepers?  What's that you're babblin' on about now?

Yeah, yeah...  I love you, too.

MOUSES!

too much to ask?

Let me tell you somethin', my friends.  Peeps can be such...

Such...

SUCH...

Well...

PEEPS.

MOUSES!

Why just the other day, there I was, sittin' on the bed, mindin' my own business, doin' a little washin', when out of nowhere came along one of those darned peeps.

FYI, it was Peep #1, but truth be told, both of my peeps have been guilty - NUMEROUS TIMES - of bein' peeps.  Not to mention bein' guilty of doin' peep-like things.

MOUSES!

And "MOUSES!" is exactly what I said.  And I said it with the loudest, most annoyed voice I could possibly muster.  'Cause like it or not, at that moment, my annoyance was most definitely what Peep #1 deserved to hear.

MOUSES!

Is it too much for a kitty to ask, to have a little privacy while said kitty is doin' his washin'?

Apparently, it is.

MOUSES!

You know, we cats start invadin' the privacy of peeps while they're doin' THEIR washin', and we never hear the end of it.

Okay, so truth be told, Peep #1 doesn't really mind my invadin' her privacy while she's doin' a little laundry down in the laundry room.  But laundry is a different kind of washin', for sure.  If we invade their privacy while they're in the shower...

MOUSES!

Yeah, that's just what peeps say when we cats invade their privacy while they're in the shower.

Believe, I know.

And don't even get me started 'bout what they say if they're usin' the litter box.

MOUSES!

But does that stop them from invadin' OUR privacy while WE'RE usin' the litter box?

The answer to that, my friends, would be a resounding no.  In fact, peeps are known to lurk around the litter boxes of cats, waitin', and watchin', like the snoopy peeps they are, until we finish doin' our litter box business.

Why peeps have this fascination with cats' litter boxes, I will never know, but like it or not, they do.

MOUSES!

Why, peeps have even been known to TAKE PICTURES of us cats while we're usin' the box.

Pictures!

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

MOUSES!

Do we cats take pictures of them, while they're doin' THEIR litter box business?

Not on your life.

Actually, postin' pictures of peeps usin' a litter box can get a kitty banned from a number of social media sites.

Not that I've ever done it myself.

It's just somethin' I've heard.

From the friend of a friend of a friend.

Or somethin' like that.

MOUSES!

You know, you'd think those social media sites would get on the ball, and start disciplining PEEPS, takin' pictures of cats doin' their litter box business, but OH NO...

Oh no, we couldn't have that.

And I suppose they do have their reasons.  Those social media site people probably know that if you take away all the pictures of cats on the Internet.

THERE'D BE ABSOLUTELY  NOTHIN' LEFT.

MOUSES!