Showing posts with label stupid warning labels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stupid warning labels. Show all posts

Sunday, 15 January 2017

sometimes...

Sometimes I wonder 'bout my peep.

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', Seville has said that before.  And do you know somethin'? YOU'RE RIGHT.  MOUSES!

Oh yeah, I've been wondering 'bout that ol' peep of mine for a number of years now. Wonderin' and wonderin' and wonderin'! And let me tell you somethin'.   I STILL HAVEN'T FIGURED HER OUT!

Okay, that's not quite true.  I have figured her out.  I'm just not sure if I like what I've figured.  MOUSES!

But truth be told, I don't think I'm alone.  I highly doubt I'm the only cat out there wondering 'bout their peeps, for peeps can make a cat wonder, for sure.  MOUSES!

Now I bet you're wonderin' too.  Wonderin' what Peep #1 has done to start me wonderin'...  THIS time.

Well what hasn't she done?  MOUSES!

I'll start at the beginning.

You may have heard 'bout the little nip mouse incident we had at my house?

No?

Well let me tell you all about it.

Actually, all you need know is that the nip mouse in question is no longer nippy, on account of it havin' been ripped wide open, so that all of its nip poured out.

And who did that, you'd like to know?

Well...  Well that's not important.  Nope, that's not important at all.  MOUSES!

But here's the thing.  That poor little nipless nip mouse got me to thinkin'.  It got me thinkin' about...

ABOUT NIP!

But seriously, what else is there to think about?

So anyway, I got to thinkin' about the nip mouse, which made me think about nip, which made me think about the fact that late last year, Peep #1 was seen approachin' a dealer on a street corner, lookin' to buy a bag of...

You guessed it, NIP.

Okay, okay...  Truth is, she went to the local health food store and ordered some dried, organic catnip.  But the health food store was, my friends, on a street corner, and the nip was in a bag. MOUSES!

But the fact that the peep had to purchase said nip in the first place, is what got me to thinking even further.  Thinking beyond the nip.  And what did I think?

ISN'T IT OBVIOUS?

I was thinkin'...

I was thinkin', it's downright amazin' that peeps can get themselves up and dressed in the morning without bein' told how to do it.

And honestly, they even need help with that.  Many a cat has had to wake a peep up at four o'clock in the morning, telling a peep to get up, get dressed, and start feeding us cats.  MOUSES!

But I digress.  Let's go back to the Peep's need to purchase that nip.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Peep #1 is the worst - I repeat, THE WORST - grower of the nip the world has ever seen.

I mean, if you were to find the previously worst nip grower in the world, and compare said nip grower to my peep, said nip grower would look like a horticultural genius, for sure.  I mean, if you were to look up "worst catnip grower on Earth" in the dictionary, you would find a big 'ol picture of my peep, for sure.  I mean, if you were produce a television show of Canada's ten worst nip growers, my peep would be a shoe-in for the number one spot, for sure.  I mean...

Well I'm figuring you're gettin' the picture, and that, my friends, would be for sure.  MOUSES!

But I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', Seville has known all this before. And do you know somethin'?  YOU'RE RIGHT.  MOUSES!

But what I did not know was...

Apparently, last summer, when the peep was plantin' my nip plants, for like the hundredth time, I SHOULD HAVE TOLD Peep #1 not to kill the nip.

Now why-oh-why did I not do that?

Well...  Well I mistakenly thought she could figure that part out on her own.  MOUSES!

Obviously, Peep #1 is incapable of figuring out anythin' on her own.  MOUSES!

But I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', my Peep #1 is not alone in this matter.  She's not the only peep requirin' cats, and other peeps, to tell 'em what to do.  Explain to 'em how to survive day-to-day life.  And you know somethin'?  YOU'RE RIGHT.  MOUSES!

Peeps have to be told everything.  EVERYTHING.  MOUSES!

Like uh...  um...  Oh, I know!  Like peeps who have to be TOLD to remove frozen pizza from the cardboard box and plastic wrapping, before puttin' the pizza in the oven.  'Cause I guess, before the boxes gave such instructions, peeps were just tossin' their frozen pizzas into ovens, boxes and plastic and all!  MOUSES!

Or uh...  um...  Oh, I know!  Like how a jar of peanut butter says right on it that it contains peanuts, and how you shouldn't eat it if you're allergic to...  you know...  peanuts.  MOUSES!

And uh...  um...  Oh, I know!  How, in order to avoid electrocution, you shouldn't use an electrical appliance in the bathtub.  But here's a question:  Is it okay to use it in a shower?  MOUSES!

I'm tellin' you, some peeps need to be told everythin' just in order for them to survive.

Yes, you need to remove the child from his or her clothes before launderin' said clothes; it really is unwise to go around stickin' your head in plastic bags; and believe it or not, facial creams are supposed to go on your face and not in your mouth.  Seriously peeps, they're not for eatin'.

How is it that peeps haven't made themselves extinct?

You know somethin'?  I've got nothin' for that.

But what I do know is...

Now where was I again?

Oh yeah...  I remember now.

Next year, when the peep goes to plant me up some nip plants, AGAIN, I'm gonna have to tell her in the most explicit way:  DON'T GO AROUND KILLING MY NIP PLANTS, YOU PEEPIFIED NIP-KILLIN' MACHINE. MOUSES!

There, I've said it now.  MOUSES!