|Blogging from under the chair today... because I feel like it. Roar!|
|Fancy Feast in Filet Mignon flavor. (source)|
Oh please, sistah! You didn't do me any favors!
It was RED MEAT!
How dare she?! My instruction was very specific: either deep fried or white breast meat only. That's the way I like my chicken. La mamarazzi thought she was smart: she mixed the red meat with Fancy Feast and gave me.
"Here, Belly, eat it. It's chiiiiichen!" she cooed.
I gave her a dirty look. "No way, Jose! I ain't eatin' this. Where's my white meat chicken?"
Obviously, the woman didn't get it. She kept pushing the plate at moi. So I did what I could: I high-tailed out of there. Later on, she gave me the same food and guess what? Yours truly spilled it all over the place. Oops!
I gave her a sign: I licked my knuckles very gansterly. Yes, I plotted her dead over the lack of chicken breast. The plan was well-executed, too: I jumped on top of her when she was in bed with a blanket wrapping around like a burrito. It could have worked, except she pushed me off waaay too fast.
Consider it a warning, woman. Next time, give me white meat chicken. And don't even try to lecture me about starving kittens in Asia and Africa. They are not in your house to eat Fancy Feast and red meat. I am. And me not likey!
Guess what she made for herself?
P.S: I'm calmer now. La mamarazzi realized her mistake and gave me some white chicken last night. I forgive her.
Love, peace, and tuna fish,
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