put a period on it

What?  WHAT?  What's all this about? MOUSES!

Apparently, Professor Lyon has a few problems with my use of run-on sentences in my latest assignment for Kitty Lit. 101. MOUSES!

Next thing I know, he'll be complaining about my use of the word mouses, too. MOUSES!

What's a kitty to do?

I know...   Say mouses.  MOUSES!

Humph.

Listen to what he wrote.  "Put a period on it and take a breath."  Can you believe it? MOU...  You know, mouses.

Looks like I'm going to have to explain to Professor Lyon that it's not fair for him to complain about my use of run-on sentences when he never once complained about Nissy using them in the past.  Nissy used to use them all the time.  Why, they were Nissy's trademark!  MOUSES!

Just because I sometimes write really long sentences containing lots of stuff about, well, there's no other way to put it but lots of other stuff although, when you think about it, all said stuff almost always refers to my original thought or point even though I have to admit, there are times when those references might be considered by some, perhaps, maybe, to be a little indirect and possibly vague but still...  MOUSES!

And if he's that desperate to take a breath, he can always do so during one of the many commas. It's not like I don't use commas when I'm writing, you know.

Put a period on it and take a breath.  Of all the nerve.

How about putting a sock in it, Professor Lyon.  MOUSES!

And speaking of socks, have you ever noticed that peeps complain about missing them a lot?  I mean, complain about the socks being missing.  They're not missing the socks.  Well in a way they are missing the socks but not missing them by being all sad with lots of tears and stuff but rather, missing them because they've disappeared.  The socks, I mean.  The peeps haven't disappeared. At least I don't think they have.

Anyway, peeps complain about missing socks all the time.  They're always complaining that the dryer ate their socks which is weird because these sock-eating dryers only ever eat one sock of any one pair.  Why is that?  Why would a dryer eat four socks, one each from four pairs and not choose to eat two pairs and leave the other two pairs alone?  They'd get the same number of sock calories either way, would they not?  Do dryers derive some sort of perverse pleasure by breaking up pairs of socks?  MOUSES!

Of course, there are peeps out there who try to trick these sock-hungry dryers by only ever buying one colour of socks.  Twelve navy socks go into the dryer but only six survive.  Are there three surviving pairs or are there six single socks?  One will never know.  Or will they?  Personally, I'm thinking that although the peeps might never know, the dryers always do.  Peeps just like to think they've managed to get one over on the sock-eating dryers, you see.

And then, of course, there are those peeps who choose to go sockless which is a considerably better fashion statement than those who wear socks with sandals.  Never wear socks with sandals, my friends. NEVER WEAR SOCKS WITH SANDALS. MOUSES!

It is my personal opinion that some of these sock and sandal wearing peeps who - by the way, are almost always highly intelligent when it comes to math, physics and great literature and stuff even if their fashion quotient is a little lacking although, perhaps they are actually the ones with the better fashion sense and the rest of us just don't realise it - should get together ---

Whew!  Okay, I'm beginning to understand this business about periods at ends of sentences and opportunities to breath and stuff.

--- and do some research to figure out exactly why the sock-eating dryers of the world don't eat anything else.  I've never heard a peep complain that the dryer ate their jeans or shirt.  Have you?  Of course you haven't,  It's a well-known fact that dryers only ever eat socks, you see.

One would think that peeps who wear socks with sandals would have a vested interest in doing research on sock-eating dryers.  After all, it's a lot harder to disguise miss-matched socks when wearing sandals than shoes.  Don't you agree?

I'm afraid that these sock-eating dryers have left peeps with a dilemma.  Either they go the rest of their lives wearing only one colour of sock or they go their entire lives wearing miss-matched socks - which, by the way, appears to be a fashion statement some peeps do actually choose to make, not unlike the fashion statement made by those peeps who insist upon wearing socks with their sandals - or they have to do something with all those leftover socks.

And speaking of leftover socks, did you know you can stuff them with nip, sew up the tops and give them to your feline friends?  Did you peeps with sock-eating dryers out there know about that?  Well let me tell you....  YOU CAN.

A good-sized sock will easily hold an ample amount of the nip and makes an excellent gift for those of us with such discerning tastes.  What's more, we cat's don't particularly care if we're given nip-filled socks in an assortment of colours.  Red, green, black, white...  We really don't care as long as those socks contain the nip.

Most nipified socks are, of course, the surviving socks of massive dryer attacks however peeps should feel free to use socks straight from their dresser drawers but never, ever, under and circumstances should you give us nip-stuffed drawers from those drawers.  MOUSES!

A sock-eating dryer surviving sock will, of course, be nice and spiffy clean however it's best to wash it again to get rid of any fabric softener residue that might be lurking about.  After all, we cats are likely going to be playing with those nip-filled socks and the dryer stuff isn't good for our health at all.  When it comes to nip-filled socks, you want nothing but the nip.

Unless, of course, we're talking about Valerian.  Valerian root, I have found, smells a lot like stinky feet.  I actually quite like it, myself.  Nissy never did but I certainly do and quite frankly, if you're stuffing the socks with Valerian root, I'm not sure you need to even bother with the wash cycle at all.  We cats will take those socks right off a peep's feet!

And speaking of feet - well paws, actually - Professor Lyon is incredibly well-versed in literature pertaining to kitties which, of course, is why he teaches all the Kitty Lit. courses at the local university.  I'm wondering if he's one of those smarty pants cats who goes around wearing socks with their sandals.  I should check that out next time I'm in class.

But no matter how much our professor knows about literature and stuff, he knows NOTHING at all about run-on sentences and I can attest to that as, as I mentioned earlier, he told me to put a period on it and take breath.  I'm thinking he's jealous.  Jealous of the lovely run-on sentences Nerissa used to write and that I, Seville the Cat, now write in Nissy's absence so that the world will not be deprived of such literary genius which as you can imagine would be doing a great disservice to said world, for sure.  Yup, that's what I'm thinking.  I'm sure you'll agree.  MOUSES!

Nissy's stash

I've been snooping.  I admit it.  It had to be done.  MOUSES!

Actually, the peep is the one that says I've been snooping.  Originally, I was investigating. Apparently, according to the peep, investigating and snooping are the very same thing.  I disagree but as Peep #1 was dishing up breakkies at the time we were having the snooping versus investigating debate, I decided at the last minute to allow her to win.

Actually, I allowed her to win round one.  After I ate my breakkies, I informed Peep #1 what I was doing was far more like investigating than snooping after all.  MOUSES!

Snooping and investigating really aren't the same thing, you see.  If they were, why would we need two different words?  Doesn't make any sense to me at all that there would be two words if snooping and investigating were one and the same.  Don't you agree?

Synonyms...  MOUSES!

But they're NOT synonyms at all.  Well, at least not in my book.  Maybe in someone else's book but in mine, they're not.  They're not cinnamon, either.  Or cloves or nutmeg or...

Gosh this blog post is getting a little spicy, even for me.  MOUSES!

But back on topic.  In my mind, snooping is done when someone is minding someone else's business out of curiosity or mischief making or whatever.  Investigating is when the cat making the enquiries is doing so out of necessity and as we cats are by nature curious, snooping is always necessary.

MOUSES!  I think I just admitted that snooping and investigating are one and the same.  Gosh darn it.

Well investigating sounds way better than snooping so I think I'll stick with that no matter what the peep says.

You know, Nissy was a bit of an investigative reporter.  He was NOT a snoopigative reporter. There isn't even such a thing as a snoopigatvie reporter.  Is there?

But also, Nissy was a cat.  Snoopy is a dog.  Totally different species.

And isn't there some Snoop Dogg person out there? See?  Snoop DOGG.  Clearly snooping is not for cats.  Must be a peep and doggy thing, I think. Makes sense to me!

Anyway, I was snooping...

I MEAN INVESTIGATING!

MOUSES!!!

While INVESTIGATING Nissy's office the other day, I came across his stash.  I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking I came across a big old stash of the nip or something and to be perfectly honest, I was thinking that I would come across something like that, too, while snooping... INVESTIGATING Nissy's office.  Unfortunately, no such luck.

What I did find though was a whole whack of books.  You should see them all!  I always knew that the peep and Nissy had shelves and shelves of cozy mysteries and I had a couple up there, myself, from taking that Kitty Lit. 101 course with Niss.

Oh, by the way, I'm going to be attending summer school classes on the Kitty Lit. 101 front so I'm currently in search of some good summer reading material but I'll write more about that in another post.

Anyway, Nissy had a stash of books that I didn't even know about.  Not cozy mysteries but...

No, he did not have a stash of questionable reading material and calenders and stuff.  Nissy was a gentleman, for sure.

What Niss had was a stash of books that helped him write.  It's true.  For starters, he had multiple dictionaries.  One of them was three volumes big.  Can you believe it?  It took the dictionary peeps three whole volumes to write all the definitions of all the words out there and even with all that space, they still didn't manage to include the word MOUSES!  Some peeps and their dictionaries...  MOUSES!

But Nissy's stash contained more than just dictionaries.  He had several books on grammar, too. No wonder he always knew whether to use lay or lie or me or I although to be perfectly honest, he did sometimes mess up on the was and the were.  Not the simple cases but with those tricky ones. You know...  When you're talking about one thing that contains more than one item.  Always a trickster for sure.  Were?  Was?  MOUSES!

And by the way, I looked through his entire stash and every single book on grammar had all comments about run-on sentences inked out.  Not nicely inked out, either.  No ruler-straight line crossing out the paragraphs.  To be honest, I think someone just took a bottle of ink and tossed it all over the pages.  Someone was a little touchy on the run-on sentence subject, if you ask me.

I think it was the peep.  MOUSES!

And speaking of Old Peepers, I found a few notes of Nissy's, some of which pertained to her.  He had written down some laws. I'm not sure if they were his own personal laws or laws he was going to try to get passed once he was appointed to the Senate.  Or maybe both.  I'll blog more about these laws in the future but I think there's time to tell you about a couple right now.

Nissy's Law #2:  When in doubt, ask the peep.  It's an interesting law because, as you know, Nissy's Law #1 was, "when in doubt, BLAME the peep."  Seems to me that these two laws are slightly contradictory but I suspect that contradiction in law is nothing new.  But he had this specific law written down on a scrap of paper in one of his grammar books.  I think perhaps it applied only to grammar.  I think that maybe the peep was his back-up grammar book but - and I'm going out on a limb and just thinking aloud here - I'm not sure what good the peep would be with any of his questions. As Nissy always said, his grammar was far better than that of the peep's and it's no wonder.  Look at all the books he had on the subject!

Of course, I have no evidence that he ever read any of those books...  MOUSES!

Oh no, I do.  He blacked out all that stuff about run-on sentences but then, like I was thinking before, I'm not sure that Nissy was the one who did that as I find it far more likely to have been the peep who did it which means I have no evidence at all as Nissy had a true love of writing and books and I just can't see him making a mess of the books with ink like that. Gosh, he didn't even like my turning down the corners of the pages.  Always insisted that a bookmark be used.  Always said he didn't want any of his books to have dogs' ears.  Or maybe he said dog eared... Boy, this subjuect is making me dog tired, for sure. MOUSES!

But you know, asking the peep for help with tricky grammar is pretty smart.  If she gets it wrong, it's all her fault.  And that brings us right back to Nissy's Law #1:  When in doubt, BLAME the peep.  My brother was a GENIUS, for sure.

Yup, Genius should have been his middle name.  MOUSES!

pet peeves

I don't know, Peepers. Can you?

Yup, that's what I said. That's what I said to the ol' peep when she asked me if she could sit on the chair upon which I, Nerissa the Cat, was already sittin'.  Her exact words were, "Can I sit there, Nissy?"

So I looked at the peep and answered, "I don't know, you got a sore tail or somethin'?  If your tail is sore, perhaps you can't sit on this here wooden chair.  You should go grab yourself a spot on the nice, soft and comfy chesterfield, in the family room."

She ignored me but not before pickin' me up off my office chair and plunkin' me down on the floor. MOUSES!

Now to be honest, I really should be givin' Ol' Peepers a bit of slack 'cause truth be told, she's just a peep.  Also, perhaps she really did wonder about her ability to disturb a cat who was clearly occupyin' the aforementioned chair.  I should give her some slack but I'm not gonna on account of the pickin' up and plunkin' down business that followed her question.  Her very poorly worded question.  Not to mention how she ignored me, afterwards.  She never did answer my question 'bout her havin' a sore tail, you know.

What's that Peepers?  What did you say?  FINE.

I have been informed by the peep that I must clarify that she does not actually have a tail. MOUSES!

You know, Peepers, you do sometimes have a pony tail stickin' out of the back of your head.  Not that you ever sit on that one, though.  Again I must say, MOUSES!

So anywho...  back to the peep and her ability to sit down in a chair.  Clearly she is capable of sittin' in one 'cause after she so rudely picked me up and plunked me down on the floor, she sat right down in that ol' chair, herself.  Once more for good measure?  Sure, why not?  MOUSES!

Peeps and their questions.  If they're gonna ask questions, they should word 'em correctly.  What Peep #1 should have asked me was, "May I sit there, Nissy?"  Yes, she should have been askin' for my permission to sit on this here chair.  The chair upon which I am currently sittin' as I write up today's blog post.

Now truth be told, had Peep #1 asked correctly, I probably would have said no.  I mean, I was already sittin' on the chair.  The chair was already occupied.

But if we're talkin' truths here, we had best discuss the likelihood that the peep would have ignored my response, picked me up and plunked me down on the floor, anyway.  After all, she never did answer my tail question, remember?  Of course you do.

You know, peeps can be very inconsistent.  Peep #1 has sat on the family room floor on more than one occasion so as not to disturb a certain kitty lying on the chesterfield.  Why she is incapable of sittin' on my office floor, is beyond me.  Perhaps I should apply for a government grant to study that phenomenon or somethin'.

Hmmm...  YEAH!  I think I'll put submittin' that application on my to-do list, for sure.

Anywho...  Back to Peep #1's inability to ask a question, properly, and my ability to lie on the chesterfield.

That's right, I like to lie on the chesterfield.  No, I'm not tellin' fibs.  I'm lyin' as in lyin' down on the chesterfield.  Different kind of lyin', for sure.

But have you ever noticed how peeps are always wanting to lay things about, includin' themselves?  Weird, huh? Yes, definitely weird.

Peeps are always talkin' about how they're gonna lay down.  Layin' down here and layin' down there.  What I wanna know is...  WHAT ARE THEY LAYING???

I mean, you lay somethin' else down but when you, personally, are lying down, you're lyin'.  You're not layin'! You can lay your head down, sure, but you lie down, yourself.  And others lie down, themselves, too.

Now, I might pad into the family room to find my brother Anderson lying on the chesterfield and that is exactly what he's doin'.  He's lyin' there.  He's not layin'...

OH MY MOUSES!  I just figured out what all those peeps layin' about are doin'.  THEY'RE LAYIN' EGGS!!!  Who knew?  This certainly does explain how the Easter Bunny is able to accumulate so many eggs every year at Easter.

But back to my brother, Andy, and his habit of lying on the chesterfield in the family room.

It's not a bad habit, I suppose.  I wouldn't call it a vice or anythin'.  Just somethin' he likes to do. I, myself, have been known to do the very same thing.  I enjoy lyin' on the chesterfield as much as the next cat.  In fact, just the other day...

Just the other day, I padded into the family room and Anderson said, "Hey Niss!  Why don't you hop up here on the chesterfield with me?"

As you can imagine, I didn't have to be asked twice.  Moments later, there we were, snuggled up on the chesterfield, together.  Peep #1 walked in and thought she'd join Anderson and me but there wasn't enough room on account of us maximising our powers of sprawlability.  The peep had to sit on the floor.  MOUSES!

You know, that reminds me of another pet peeve of mine.  The misuse of the words I and me.  You ever hear peeps do that?  I imagine that you have on account of those words bein' misused an awful lot.

Now I could joke about it but believe you me, this is no joking matter.  At this very moment, there are fingernails scraping against chalkboards that are soundin' funnier than the misuse of the words I and me.

Instead of makin' a joke, I'll let you in on a little secret.  You wanna know an easy way to figure out which word to use?  Just drop the other cat's name and then ask yourself if you would use I or me. Whichever word it is, will be the correct word to use when the other cat's name is added again.

Let's see...  Anderson and I were lyin' on the chesterfield.  We know this to be true 'cause I would say that I was lyin' on the chesterfield.  I would never say, me was.  But the peep wondered if she could sit next to Anderson and me.  That's right, me and NOT I.  Why?  'Cause I would never say that she wondered if she could sit next to I.  See how easy that is?  Easy as catchin' a mouse in a house and MUCH easier than ever catchin' that darned red dot.  That, my friends, is right up there with the most impossible of missions.  MOUSES!

So there you have it.  My three biggest pet peeves.

Hmmm...  You ever wonder if anyone out there has a pet named Peeves? You know, it would be pretty funny if someone did.  Hello there, I'd like to introduce you to my pet, Peeves. Hehehehehee...  I should get myself a pet mouse or somethin' and name him Peeves.

WHAT A GREAT IDEA!

Oh Peepers...  We need to go to the store.  I need a mouse house and a... uh...  um...  Well, I might as well just come right out and say it.  I need a mouse.  I need a mouse for my house and I'm gonna name him Peeves.