Tagged: football

Whoa. Been too long, eh?

I have a lot of excuses as to why I haven’t written a post in awhile. Work’s been super busy. It’s football season. Most importantly, the cats have been oddly…uninteresting.

I dislike excuses, although I am the biggest justifier you’ll ever meet. So I will not blame my non-writing on any of those things. Basically, I’ve been lazy.

So what’s new with me? The cats are still cats. The boyfriend is still the boyfriend. My fantasy football team is taking a dump as usual. Oh, the Bucs won 3 in a row. That was quite the pleasant surprise. Thanksgiving went well. I’m already procrastinating buying x-mas presents.

The weather is the biggest variable at the moment. I finally got out my “winter” clothes a few weeks ago and I have yet to wear any. It’s been cold (by Florida standards) I think a total of 2 days. I wore shorts today.

It IS having an effect on the cats. They’ve been very loud. One of them (read: Taco) knocked a cupcake off the cooling rack while we were at a football game. Cats have no business with cupcakes. WTF, cat?

So that’s the short and long of it. Maybe I should stop being so lazy and get back to my regular posts. We’ll see…

Lazy and long.

Lazy and long.

Ending my year with a whine.


Today is a sad day. It’s the last day of football season. My fantasy season was over long ago, having had a miserable showing. Technically right now I’m playing for 9th place. Out of 12. Having come in 3rd last year, this is a bit of a downer. Tis life, right?

Except my Buccaneers, my REAL football team, started off with the best of playoff hopes and will finish out the season on a 6-game losing streak because there’s pretty much no way in hell they’re going to beat the Falcons today (I AM, however, wearing my lucky shirt…the lucky part has no real foundation in fact, I just happen to notice that sometimes we win when I wear it. Not scientific at all). I don’t have a “secondary” favorite team, where’s the loyalty in that?

Bucs game. One we lost. But sat in club seats! Fancy.

Bucs game. One we lost. But sat in club seats! Fancy.

Bucs or bust. So I’m bustin’. Damn you, Josh Freeman, and all you adderall-taking cornerbacks…I mean, you’re football players. What do you need adderall for? Learning the play books? I doubt your self-diagnosed ADD affects your football-playing abilities. You know better than that. Or maybe you don’t, that’s why you play football. Whatever.

Football players can be real assholes. Yeah, they get paid too much. So do a lot of people, though. Like garbage men. But they probably deserve it more. Then again, getting slammed to the ground by 400-pound men repeatedly doesn’t sound like a blast, either. Maybe they all need some cats.

Moosh Moosh basking.

Moosh Moosh basking.

I bet they would be much better people. Just not Michael Vick. He should be put in the pound himself. I can’t believe that jackass has a dog now. I hope it bites his hand off. No, then they would euthanize the dog. Ok, I hope a random dog bites his hand off and runs off into the sunset.

Yes, I’m rambling. But in addition to my sad football day, it’s also “that time of the month” where perfectly normal women become whiny babies curled up in fetal positions contemplating hysterectomies. So that’s where I’m at. I think it’s time to start drinking.

FOLLOW-UP: The Bucs WON. And they actually looked GOOD. I’m pleased. Not like it got us into the playoffs or anything, but at the very least it gives me hope for next season. Maybe not quite hope, but a less bitter taste in my mouth to take with me into the offseason. Super Bowl XVIII, here we come!

Cats. Shut up. Please.

So I started this new kick. Being positive. Because I realized that I have become a rather temperamental be-yotch lately. Which I don’t mind so much, but I’m even starting to piss off myself with my grouchiness. Therefore, I’m attempting.

Unfortunately, it seemed like everyone else around me was having bad days and being cranky, which is hard to overcome. And then there’s my stupid wrist, which is more crampy than it was before I went to the doctor and started wearing the damn brace, and then the rest of my arm started hurting too from overcompensating. And thanks doc, I know you said I was cleared to work with a brace, but have you ever tried to grab boxes coming down a moving conveyor belt, jiggle them around under a half-broken scanner and then place them perfectly tetris-style in a plastic igloo without the use of the thumb on your dominant hand? I was hoping my left arm would become magically useful and I would move into ambidextrism, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. It’s either very stubborn or it takes a lot longer than a week to teach one’s moronic digital half to pick up the slack.

Just call me gimp.

Just call me gimp.

This is where I expect my cats to “poor you” me. But no! They still want to be fed. In fact, they seems to want to be fed more than usual. The non-winter Florida winter is making them ravenous. And I refuse to feed them more than they’re suppose to be fed. So guess what happens? MEOWING. SO MUCH MEOWING.

Usually it’s just Taco being a loud a-hole, but now Moosh is getting into the act with his high pitched MEEEEs. I came home from work tonight craving quiet, and Taco meowed for (and I’m NOT exaggerating here) a half an hour straight. At some point he was so worn out from meowing at me he actually stopped following me around and laid down to meow at me. They certainly weren’t starving. There was food in the food island. They know how to get it. Both of them. I guess it’s not as good as when you’re SERVED food.


Taco’s finally shut up, although he has a new, weird obsession with eating my clutch purse. The boyfriend is home and we’re sitting in football-induced silence, and it’s lovely. Yay.

Meowwy christmas!

Meowwy christmas!

Laser kitty PEW PEW PEW

The chronicles of Taco are neverending.

So I decided that since Taco is having a flare-up, we should try the laser therapy again. It’s not as expensive as you’d think, and my vet said that she has had success with cats who have worse flare-ups than Taco. Last time we only did one session, this time we’re going to try for the recommended 2-3. The weather is crazy windy out right now and for some reason that seems to freak Taco out more. I mean, I don’t like wind either, but it doesn’t cause MY mental issues to flare. Then again, my hormones do that for me once a month. That’s totally another story.

Cat got your tongue? Har har har.

Taco is again a laser kitty. I don’t know why laser sounds amuse me so.

I also went to the pet store yesterday, a real one, not one of those big fancy “we don’t really know anything about pets” places. I love small businesses. I swear, I have been a cranky old lady since I was 14. I refuse to shop at Wal-Mart. Anyway. I needed more cat urine cleaner. The one that I had sucked. Or Taco’s pee is just really really strong. Anyway, I got a new kind (still smells like pee, this last episode of his was a doozy, none of the other couch pees have been this strong especially after cleaning, AND it was on the boyfriend’s favorite seat…yeah, that went over well). And I talked to the pet store guy, who was super friendly and you could tell knew what he was talking about, like the kind of people who own businesses because they actually give a shit about what they’re doing rather than making a boatload of money. He made a lot of suggestions. And they were all things I’ve already tried. I could see the surprise on his face, I don’t think that he’s ever had such a thorough crazy cat lady asking for help before. He quizzed me on my number of litterboxes vs. number of cats (2 cats, 3 boxes) and then he THOUGHT he was going to stump me when he asked if I used 3 different kinds of litter…and the answer is yes. Yes, I buy THREE different kinds of litter. I felt like passing this test elevated my crazy cat lady status. Unfortunately, it doesn’t get me any farther in fixing Taco. When I say I have tried everything, I really really mean I have tried everything. I even spray the couches with cat repellent.

Here’s what I did do. Because, you know, my parents always taught me that you should always ask for what you want, because the worst answer you can get is no. So I emailed the cat behaviorist people. I told them I can’t afford their $225 phone consultation. I told them that I have done everything I can possibly do and I just want to help my kitty. So I threw it all out there and asked if I could barter. Granted, my skills may not be in their demand (I work in marketing, they already have a really nice website and it appears they don’t need any help getting business) but I can do copywriting, proofreading, research…I even threw in fantasy football tips (although this may not be the year to ask me those, I’m doing miserably). I did leave out crafts, I’m not sure “decoupauged tissue box” is a viable offer. I haven’t gotten an answer. But even so, I tried. I didn’t ask for charity, although I certainly would accept it from them if they offered. So if they say no, I’m no worse off than I was before. It at least made me feel good, because I’m not giving up. I’m hard headed like that.

I just wish extreme love was enough to fix. In a perfect world it would be.

Another night of shaking my fist at football.

I would post something incredibly and insightful about my kitties tonight…except I’m too busy hating football again. The cats hid in closets and under beds to avoid my wrath today. My fantasy football teams are complete crap. I was a 20-point favorite in one. Julio Jones, you kill me. I’m now 0-4 in my other league, and I have the most points scored against me, even though my own points would put me in 2nd if fantasy football went that way. But it doesn’t, so what that means is the person I play each week has an outstanding week, and despite the fact that my team is consistently good, it’s not enough THAT WEEK.


On the plus side, I did get a laptop, so I can watch my fantasy football demise from anywhere! Well, I could do that with my phone, too. I did get the iPhone5. It’s so much faster. I like. The best part is that the camera takes much less time to load, giving me a better chance of getting a good kitty pic while something is happening.

I also had to watch the Bucs game on my laptop because the game was blacked out locally. It looked pretty full to me, but what do I know? Thank goodness for the internet and streaming. Unfortunately, I had to watch them LOSE. So close, yet so far. Last minute heartbreak.

I’m also having way too much fun with Photo Booth. Taco not so much.

The Sunday night game, which I am currently watching (while writing this! I love having a laptop. Amazing.) features a team with a quarterback that I would not mind seeing crippled. I’m not saying that because it would benefit my fantasy football team, it’s because it’s Michael Vick. I don’t think people who kill dogs in cold blood ever really “change.” I don’t care how good he is, I’ll never put him on my fantasy team. I cheer for the defense of whoever he’s playing.


This is a very all-over-the-place post. Sunday venting. So cathartic.

At least I have my iToys!

Why do you hate me, football?

I love football. I love football season. I remain dedicated to my Bucs even when they have years like last year, and I even watch them online when the game is blacked out because everyone else jumped off the bandwagon and won’t go to games. I love going to games, but it’s an expensive day. Beer is EIGHT DOLLARS! 3 hours of $8 beers gets expensive, and on top of that they cut the beer off for the 4th quarter, which is just about the time everyone has drunk enough that they want to continue drinking heavily. But despite this, and despite the fact that I hate people, particularly loud sweaty people in crowds, I still love going to games. I just can’t do it 8 games a season. My couch is so comfortable. Beer is so cheap here. I can annoy the cats while I watch football, although they’re usually passed out asleep somewhere on Sundays, so asleep that they don’t even bat an eye when the boyfriend or I yells obscenities at the TV.


Which brings me to the issue at hand. There’s a lot of yelling in my house these days. You see, I play fantasy football. And my teams are taking a giant Taco-sized poop. I seem to be bad luck for running backs, I have two injured ones right now, and I have the backup for one of those injured ones in my other league, and he just got hurt today too.

Moosh doesn’t care.

So I’m sitting here watching the Sunday night game hoping Tom Brady’s arm magically falls off, because that’s pretty much the only way I’m going to win. Oh, and in addition to that, it would help if they decided that since Brady’s arm fell off, they should just kick field goals for the rest of the game. I have the New England kicker. That would be nice.


I’m not even going to mention the Bucs’ performance today, because it seems to me that they didn’t actually PLAY in the game, they just went to hang out with the Cowboys.

Off the kitty topic today. Football and vegans.

Taking a break from obsessing about cats for a post. So I’ll talk about my other, more seasonal obsession. Football. I love football almost as much as I love cats. My Sundays are empty without it. I crave it. Don’t even get me started on my fantasy football, I tinker with my lineup all week and check the scores every five minutes. I yell at my TV. I yell at my phone when my fantasy app crashes. I yell every time another football player gets arrested (way to go, Eric Wright, how the eff did you get a FELONY DUI? Couldn’t just get a misdemenor like everyone else?).

And today, I am annoyed with the Arian Foster story. In case you don’t know, Arian Foster is one of the top running backs in the league. He doesn’t play for the Bucs, though, so the only way this story affects me personally is if I draft him in fantasy football, which there is only a slight chance of since there are 11 other people that will be vying for him as well.

So the story is that he went vegan. And it’s caused an uproar. In response to this uproar, I believe Mr. Foster said it best: “People feel so strong about meat and milk. I wish they felt this strong about peace.”

Like, really. I highly doubt that a guy who makes as much money as he does by RELYING on his body to work the way it does is taking this decision lightly. I remember when I was 15 and went vegetarian and all I ate was chips and french fries…yeah, that didn’t work out so well…but I know a lot more now and even if he doesn’t, he has the money to pay people who do. I can make all the arguments in the world about how humans aren’t really meant to consume meat and dairy…but I won’t. I can only speak from experience in saying that it is easier for me to lose weight, I have more energy, and I feel better since I gave up all that crap. And granted, I’m not working out 8 hours a day or whatever but I AM in the gym 5 times a week for mostly lifting because I hate cardio, and there has been no difference in how I build muscle.

Come at me, bro.

Yes, people, there ARE other sources of protein. I know this is like saying the world is coming to an end, but please try to understand. While we’re at it, can you also stop acting so offended that I have personally chosen the path of no animal products? Are you afraid I’m going to take YOURS away? I’m not. I don’t care what you do. Really, I don’t.

I might not draft Arian Foster this year, but that’s only because running backs are on the decline and I’d rather get a solid tight end in the first round. Maybe like Tony Gonzalez. Also one of the best at his position. Also vegan.

This post is oddly not about cats.

I have so generously been awarded an award. Thank you to CatPurrology! As a new blogger, it’s comforting to know that my writing is decent enough to warrant this honor.

The rules to the ONE LOVELY BLOG AWARD are:
•    Thank the person who nominated you and link back to them in your post
•    Share 7 things about yourself
•    Nominate 15 or so bloggers you admire
•    Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they’ve been nominated.

So. 7 things about myself. So many things to say…

1. I am not a natural blonde. This is probably not a surprise, as my shade of blonde is not found in nature. Technically, though, I was a blonde as a kid, it just got darker as I grew up. So I bleach the hell out of it.
2. I have an addiction to shopping. It is quite serious.
3. I have a lot of tattoos, and I really hate when a-holes with tribals try to bond with me over our shared tattooage. Oh, are you Samoan? No? Well then.
4. I am easily distracted by animal print.
5. I’m a walking disaster. I can trip, fall, bump into and crush almost anything, especially if it is something I should not be able to trip, fall, bump into or crush easily.
6. In spite of the above, I have never broken a bone, except for my tailbone, I think. I fell getting out of a sailboat, right onto the rope mooring it. Not fun. Couldn’t sit properly for weeks.
7. I really really really love football and beer. The months between football seasons sadden me.

So that’s that. Nothing about cats, even! I figure I talk about them enough otherwise.

15 seems slightly excessive, so I’m going to shorten my list. I apologize in advance if I am breaking blogger code, but I so love breaking rules!

1. In other words

2. Tabi Happy

3. Not Average Enough

4. Spots of Odd

5. My Serendipitous Life as a Baseball Wife

6. furbabiesfurever

7. Whispers of Sunshine

8. ThreeCatYard

Gah, I’m so lazy today. If I left you out, it’s not because I don’t admire you, it’s because I’m sloth-like in my production today.