Cats Working Says Good-Bye to Adele

By Karen

I’m deeply saddened to report that Adele passed away on Thursday, September 12. She was 19 years and 5 months old, the last of the original Cats Working team who inspired my book, How to Work Like a CAT.

Without missing a beat in her routine until the very end, Adele became yet another victim of chronic renal failure, which she lived with for over two years. In her lifetime, she watched four “brothers” who were her world also succumb to CRF — Rex, Fred, Yul, and Cole.

Adele and Yul

This past spring, Adele also began developing a tumor on her neck. It didn’t hurt or bother her and seemed comparatively the least of her ailments, so she didn’t undergo any aggressive diagnosis or treatment for it.

Cole and Adele

Adele drove the daily agenda around here until her days slowly became more bad than good. When most foods lost their appeal (and we tried them ALL) and her meds weren’t helping, and even sleep didn’t bring much relief, we knew it was time to let her go while she still had her dignity. Her death was very peaceful.

Max and Roc are adjusting like a couple of rebels without causes to the newly quiet house and Adele’s empty favorite spots. They’re facing life for the first time since kittenhood without their etiquette coach and disciplinarian. They are better cats thanks to Adele’s tough love.

Max and Adele shared a bed

I’m missing my Delly so much, feeling the weight of accumulated grief from losing another decades-long companion to a scourge of epidemic proportions that veterinary medicine inexplicably seems to NEVER make any headway against. It’s taken me days to bring myself to write this and I’m in tears as I type.

Roc and Adele

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Michelle Wolf Deserves Thanks, Not Dissing

By Karen

Revenge is a dish best served cold, and comedian Michelle Wolf’s serving of it at the White House Correspondents Dinner was as frosty and satisfying as her joke about Fox “News” defector Megyn Kelly…

“Megyn Kelly got paid $23 million by NBC, then NBC didn’t let Megyn go to the Winter Olympics. Why not? She’s so white, cold and expensive, she might as well BE the Winter Olympics.”

Republicans are crying “Foul!” They claim they were verbally punched in the face while refusing to admit Dear Leader Trump’s bullying and insulting tweets and lie-laced rants on Fox and at rallies have made it open season on mean.

Like all passive-aggressive bullies, Trump himself was too gutless to be there and face journalists he insults, threatens, lies about, calls the “enemy of the people,” and says he’d like to jail. Instead, he had Sarah Huckabee Sanders take his place on the dais.

Sanders has been shoveling shit down our throats since her first day in the White House press briefing room. Wolf logically homed in on Sanders’ incessant lying, and I thought her take-down about how Sanders creates her signature “smoky eye” look from the burnt ashes of facts was pretty mild, considering.

If Wolf had stooped to Trump’s level, she’d have gone after the lank, style-free hair, the dumpy figure that makes a dandy Trump repellant, the lifeless, monotone delivery that makes Mike Pence seem like a court jester, and the pearls inspired by Marge Simpson.

Instead, Wolf went high. She let Sanders know what decent women think of her as Trump’s mouthpiece…

“And I’m never really sure what to call Sarah Huckabee Sanders. You know, is it Sarah Sanders? Is it Sarah Huckabee Sanders? Is it Cousin Huckabee? Is it Auntie Huckabee Sanders? Like, what’s Uncle Tom but for white women who disappoint other white women? Oh, I know: Aunt Coulter.”

And now even the dinner’s sponsor, the White House Correspondents Association, has turned on Wolf, saying her speech wasn’t in “the spirit” of their mission.

Really?

Then why were they all there, to pay homage to the bloviating buffoon who keeps them scrabbling after tweets like street urchins chasing pennies tossed by a passing “noble” who otherwise kicks, taunts, and spits on them for having the gall to exist?

“Thank you, sir, may we have some more?”

If there’s ANYWHERE those representing the media should get up in Trump’s face and tell him…

“Enough’s enough. You may fool Fox and your brainless base, but we know bullshit when we see it. We’re going to call it out and continue to uncover the facts about your ignorance, bigotry, misogyny, corruption, and crime.”

…the WHCD is it.

Michelle Wolf spoke truth to the idiot squatter in the White House and did their job for them. Their thanks is to feign the vapors over her crudeness and throw her under the bus.

That’s gratitude, Trump-style.

Trump’s Strange Lack of Curiosity About Russia Explained

By Karen

Melania may have a hard time tucking Donald into bed tonight in Hamburg on the eve of what’s believed to be his first face-to-face with his idol, Vladmir Putin, at the G20 summit. It’s hard to know for sure if they’ve ever met before because Trump’s been lying for several years about their acquaintance.

By all reports, Putin’s done his homework and is well-armed with facts and intelligence. Trump goes in with the mostly blank slate he calls his “good brain.”

Trump has never asked about how Putin interferes in U.S. elections. I think it’s because Trump already knows. During the campaign, his flying monkeys verbally kept him informed on how they coordinated Russia’s efforts on Trump’s behalf.

The White House couldn’t get Trump up to speed on Putin because Trump’s puny attention span allowed only a series of tweet-length bullet points. He’s incapable of absorbing any more.

Putin also has an agenda, which likely includes getting back those two spying bases in the U.S. that Obama seized on his way out the door, and probably the lifting of financial sanctions.

Trump’s attitude seems to be, “Ask not what Russia can do for you, but what you can do for Russia,” because Trump requested a list of “deliverables” for Putin. Hey, why not? The man helped put Trump in the White House.

No one expects Trump to bring up Russia’s meddling as a bad thing. Rather, Trump may drop to his knees before Putin in gratitude and ask him how he likes his blow jobs.

Nah, I go too far. It wouldn’t be presidential, and it would take a crane to get Trump back on his feet. Maybe that’s why he brought Melania.

As for the rest of the summit, it remains to be seen how gauche and boorish Trump will be this time. At least the other leaders know to expect some scolding and shoving.

Angela Merkel has made it clear she has no use for the arrogant man-baby, and Emmanuel Macron has already played Trump’s childish alpha-male games.

When Trump’s BFF, Chinese President Xi Jinping, strolls in, wanna bet Trump goes all sweet and gooey like chocolate cake, instead of ordering China to bring North Korea to heel, like he’s been demanding in speeches to everyone else?

I don’t see how Trump can possibly survive this summit with his ass intact. After Putin chews him up and spits him out, the other 18 leaders can steer around his bloated orange carcass like roadkill. On too many fronts, Trump has not only abdicated leadership, but his right to express an opinion. CNN did a succinct run-down on the major conflicts Trump has created with the other 19 18 countries. (Correction: One of the G20 members is a representative of the EU.)

It’s sad that I actually want to see a president of the United States disrespected and demeaned in an international forum. But maybe being publicly bitch-slapped by other leaders will get his attention. Nothing will make him humble, but if the world stops listening to or believing him, it may minimize the damage Trump can inflict

What’s in a Name? Trump Defies Description

By Adele

Since we finally see the light at the end of this election tunnel and it may NOT be the Trump Trainwreck coming, I’m sharing my collection of ways people have tried to capture the putrid essence of Donald Trump.

We’ve got all paws crossed that the only name appropriate for Trump on November 9 is…

Biggest. Loser. Ever. YUGE! Unbelievable!

He’s also been called…

National disgrace and an international pariah. —Colin Powell

Two-bit racist arsonist. —Rep. Hakeem Jeffries (D-NY)

Unwitting agent of the Russian Federation. —Rep. Hakeem Jeffries (D-NY)

Willful and abusive braggart. —General Barry McCaffrey (Ret.)

Dishonest demagogue with an authoritarian character. —Meg Whitman (Hewlett-Packard CEO)

Slick-talking, empty-promising, self-promoting, one-man wrecking crew. —Senator Tim Kaine (Hillary’s running mate)

A black soul. —Khizr Khan (father of slain Muslim U.S. Army Captain)

A cheddar-faced crypto fascist. —Scott Feschuk (Canadian columnist)

Rear Adm. John Hutson (Ret.):

• Walking, talking recruiting poster for terrorists
• Not fit to polish John McCain’s boots

Elizabeth Warren:

• A man with a dark and ugly soul
• Loud, nasty, thin-skinned fraud
• Thin-skinned racist bully
• Large orange elephant in the room

Howard Dean:

• An ignoramus who doesn’t pay his taxes
• A hate-monger and a fool

Leonard Pitts:

• Overgrown frat boy trying to masquerade as a statesman
• Flaming oil spill of a human being
• Has epic coarseness, brazen mendacity, appalling ignorance, enormous narcissism and utter incompetence

Charles Krauthammer:

• Boasting, bullying, bombastic, insulting, insensitive
• An infantile hunger for approval and praise, a craving that can never be satisfied

Lawrence O’Donnell:

• The most vile creature in the history of presidential campaigning
• A sociopathic liar
• Most ignorant and mentally unstable candidate in history

Bill Maher:

• The tangerine nightmare
• Whiny little bitch
• Doing to politics what Bialystock and Bloom in The Producers did to Broadway. Purposely trying to have a flop so he could bilk the investors.

Samantha Bee:

• A two-bit used hate salesman
• A dick-waving Berlusconi knockoff
• A Garfield-colored ignoramus
• Lecherous lump of earwax
• Tangerine Caligula
• Sociopathic 70-year-old toddler
• Bigoted alleged billionaire
• Agent Orange
• America’s burst appendix
• Least qualified candidate ever to lurch into the public spotlight and shit on Gold Star moms while cradling Putin’s sweaty sack

Stephen Colbert:

• Screaming cantaloupe (said by cartoon Hillary to Colbert during interview)
• Big orange coward
• Angry Creamsicle

Trevor Noah:

• Racist clementine
• Traffic cone soaked in raw sewage
• Cinnamon Hitler
• Scrubby side of the sponge

Larry Wilmore:

• Citrus-hued vomit bladder
• Mango Mussolini

John Oliver:

• Racist voodoo doll made of discarded cat hair
• Two-bit bullshit artist conning America to help himself
• Damaged sociopathic narcissist
• Used condom filled with orange Gatorade
• Used diaphragm from the Jersey Shore
• Sriracha baboon anus

Deranged, narcissistic Oompa-Loompa. —Jordan Klepper (Daily Show reporter)

Don’t forget to vote tomorrow. Your kitties are depending on you to do the right thing.

Today is Black Cat Appreciation Day

By Max and Roc

No, we are not making this up.

Even though we’ve had a two-legged black cat in the White House for almost eight years, the four-legged type continue to live under the shadow of human brainwashing about how evil we are.

We’re harmless. Just ask Karen. If living with black cats were dangerous, she’d have been dead years ago. Eight of the ten cats she’s adopted in her adult life have been black or black tuxedo. The only two exceptions were Adele and the late, great Fred, both pure white.

If you have a black cat, give him or her extra hugs and treats today. If you’re thinking maybe you’d like to get a cat, go straight to your nearest shelter and take home the blackest cat they have.

It’s a fact that black cats and dogs are the last to be adopted, even though we’re just as loving and we need good homes as much as tabbies and calicos. We may even be smarter because we’ve managed to survive over the centuries in spite of so many people being out to kill us.

For example, Roc will troubleshoot problems with your TV for a reasonable fee.

And a tuxedo cat like Max makes a perfect plus-one at any elegant soirée.

We’ve got brains and good looks. Who could ask for anything more?

Cats for Hillary

By Adele

Yes, it’s a real movement. Just go to www.Twitter.com and search on #catsforhillary. Trump’s not the only one tweeting. In fact, cats are infamous tweeter-eaters, so let Donald consider himself warned. Just sayin’.

One detail I haven’t seen about Trump is if he has any pets. I’d bet a year of my treats he’s a dog person. Since he requires blind obedience, a cat couldn’t fail to in-fur-iate him.

Hold the presses! I just found something. Can’t confirm it anywhere reputable, but to put it as Trump himself would, “I’m reading that many people think” Trump has a Lab named Spinee (a retriever, the breed preferred by slave-drivers) and this pic of him is all over the ‘net…

On the other hand, Hillary’s not a pet person, although the Bill Clinton White House had a cat named Socks, and then Bill got a dog named Buddy. I was the CW reporter on the political cat beat back in the day.

I was also once an ardent Hillary nonsupporter, but started coming around during her run against Obama. Today, since Trump is the alternative, I’ve done a complete 180 on Hillary.

She’s ruthless, conniving, smart, organized. She can lie with a straight face. And she has claws — like needles — although she usually keeps them well-hidden. She’ll take what she learned from every misstep as secretary of state and see that nobody ever gets the best of her again. Putin, you hacking sack of Trump-loving poo. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Trump, on the other hand, thinks he’ll single-handedly make the world a better place by building walls, torturing families, persecuting Muslims, deporting 11 million people, bombing the Middle East, letting nukes multiply willy-nilly in bad places, screwing our allies, cozying up to despots, all while insulting, berating, and mocking everyone involved.

Let’s hope the latest outrage: Trump’s cluelessness on workplace harassment, reinforced by son Eric on CBS This Morning, drives another nail into Trump’s coffin with women…

As a fe/male/line who’s harassed by Max and Roc every day of my life just because… I can attest that being a strong female has nothing to do with it. And sometimes you can’t just “change careers” to escape it.

So, harassed women get tossed on Trump’s ever-growing pile of losers. Let’s hope they help to hand Trump the biggest loss of his life in November.

BONUS: While you’re on Twitter, if you want to ROTFLYAO, check out #TrumpYourCat.

Kitten’s Double Life Revealed

By Roc

Ever since I came to live here in November 2015, I’ve been stepping out with Karen nearly every Saturday to visit my “home away from home.” Adele and Max think I’m bonkers when I climb into the carrier without a fuss. For them, that crate means only one thing — the VET.

My secret escape is a sweet little set-up at a big house belonging to my Granny and Grumpy. There, I’m a superstar. Those two are absolutely CRAZY about me.

They have a great fireplace, which they turn on just for me so I can catnap in front of it. At first, all I had was a blankie on the floor…

But it wasn’t long before a bed showed up. Now my Teddy and Squeaky Hamburger guard it full-time…

Speaking of Teddy, I got him for Christmas when I was real little… (on blue carpet), but you can see how I’m growing into him. Karen took the next picture of us in February…

I have other toys, too. We have so many at home, Max and Adele haven’t even missed these…

And they don’t know about my latest acquisition, a new scratchy pad with feathers…

I like hanging out on the big couch while everybody drinks wine and watches some tube, with no fears that Adele will come along and sit on me…

I also like playing on the kitchen table, now that it’s an easy leap. Here I am on Granny’s chair…

And here’s Granny giving me a workout with my Martha Stewart stick toy…

She also encourages me to explore my artistic side. Here I am playing “Kitten on the Keys” on her piano…

Grumpy plays with me, too, but mostly by letting me chew his feet. I know it looks like he’s trying to strangle me here, but that’s how he does “friendly”…

I returned the favor by visiting his office for a desk inspection (BTW, he failed, it was a mess)…

Then I scared the pants shorts off him by trying a new trick. That black thing on the bannister at the top of the stairs is me…

Bannister-walking has become my new hobby, but that’s for another post.

When I need a little alone time, I hang out in the guestroom and watch for geese on the little lake behind the house…

I also have my own stash of food, bowls, and a litterbox. But don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not a mooch. I earn my keep. One Saturday I helped Granny with housework by fishing some popcorn, a Goldfish, and a couple of peanuts from under the coffee table for her (OK, I ate a peanut). She was so horrified by all the stale snacks I was finding, they moved the coffee table and vacuumed the whole rug…

I’m not sure what Adele and Max do while I’m gone, but I enjoy my weekly breaks from them. And they don’t seem to mind because I don’t come home reeking of the vet.