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  • Originally posted by namelesswonder View Post
    GP! It's a sign! I added your book to my Amazon wishlist (for payday...unless the Budget is still crying after rent, then maybe I'll wait for the installments starting on the 14th) and I saw this.

    Amazon.com: Kotobuki 280-129 2-Tiered Bento Box, Panda Face: Kitchen & Dining

    Admittedly, it's because I looked at it last week while I was bored at work. But it's a sign. You are, and forever shall be, Gay Panda.

    You will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Gay Panda.
    This whole post cracked me up, with the exception of your crying budget. I do not even want to know how much it just cost me to have the washer/dryer fixed, and we shall pretend the decimal is in the wrong place on the vet bill.
    JOIN THE PANDA SHOW!!! Primal With A Side Of FABULOUS and PANDALOONERY!

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    • PART ONE: Spending more time with Windows Vista has reminded me of all the reasons I struggle to like her, and I am glad that she has The Great Pumpkin for companionship. She is not a bad cat, just one who is never satisfied with circumstances, and she expresses the depths of her rankle in a loud and whiny voice. (Dear NYC ASPCA: Lest Twilight Barking be alerting you to Gay Panda feeling few warm-and-fuzzies for one of the Panda Pets, be aware that Gay Panda fed her a chicken breast yesterday and petted her and fibbed that she was a wonderful cat to promote high Self of Steam.)

      I’ve always received three completely different reactions upon arriving home:
      PRIMAL COACH KITTY: Friend! (While running toward me for petting)
      THE GREAT PUMPKIN: Enemy! (While running away from me in terror)
      WINDOWS VISTA: -and I’ve been hungry for HOURS! I don’t LIKE kibble! I’ve NEVER liked it and I don’t know WHY you keep buying it! I want MOIST FOOD with chunks and sauce! Are you DEAF? Well, then I’ll just talk LOUDER! I WANT MOIST FOOD WITH CHUNKS AND SAUCE AND YOU PET ME WRONG, GAY PANDA! Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you! Stop . . . there, I tripped you! HAH! How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t like kibble? I DON’T LIKE KIBBLE!

      Primal Coach Kitty, ever thrilled to see me, and The Great Pumpkin, who has to be hugged and consoled that I did not turn into a cat-eating zombie at Whole Foods, mitigated the deluge of Windows Vista’s disgruntlement. When I would go on vacations and drive them to Kitty Kennel, the ruckus they created in the backseat made me feel like I was trapped in a deranged Meow Mix commercial.

      PRIMAL COACH KITTY: Hack. Hack-hack.
      GAY PANDA: How can you get carsick at thirty miles an hour?
      THE GREAT PUMPKIN: Don’t give me over to zombies! I’ll be good, I promise!
      PRIMAL COACH KITTY: Hack-hack-HACK! Ahh. I made something warm!
      GAY PANDA: Don’t roll in your barf, Primal Coach Kitty!
      WINDOWS VISTA: -and I spent ALL MORNING waiting for the sun to hit the porch! Wasn’t it bad enough that you fed me kibble for breakfast? I HATE KIBBLE. I WANT MOIST FOOD WITH CHUNKS AND SAUCE! So I had a bad breakfast and THEN you petted me wrong and THEN you yelled at me for tripping you and THEN just when the sun was at the right angle to the porch, you put me in the carrier! YOU ARE A BAD PANDA, GAY PANDA. Are you taking me to the vet?
      Last edited by Gay Panda; 01-31-2012, 08:50 PM.
      JOIN THE PANDA SHOW!!! Primal With A Side Of FABULOUS and PANDALOONERY!

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      • PART TWO:
        THE GREAT PUMPKIN: The vet?! Not the vet! The vet is a zombie! She’s going to eat me!
        BENIGN POLTERGEIST: Yo mama so dumb that-
        PRIMAL COACH KITTY: Take it back! TAKE IT BACK! Hack. Hack-hack.
        WINDOWS VISTA: -and how many times during the day is the sun at that perfect angle to the porch? How many times? ONE TIME. I’m allotted twenty minutes of happiness a day from the sun and YOU TOOK THAT AWAY. I don’t get the food I want, I don’t get the petting I want, all I get from this lousy world is twenty minutes of perfect sunshine. ASK ME IF I’M GETTING MY TWENTY MINUTES OF PERFECT SUNSHINE TODAY, GAY PANDA. The least you could have done is given me moist food with chunks and sauce-
        PRIMAL COACH KITTY: Hack-hack-HACK!

        It always ended with me pulling into Kitty Kennel to unload one giant orange cat soaked with the urine of fear, one happy tabby covered in vomit, and Windows Vista bitching out the kennel worker and Gay Panda and everything in this mortal plane.
        KENNEL WORKER: Aren’t you pretty? Who’s a pretty kitty?
        WINDOWS VISTA: -and I am NOT HAPPY about this! I missed the sunshine that keeps me GOING through this MISERABLE existence! I had a bad breakfast and now YOU’RE petting me wrong, too! What? You don’t get to leave, Gay Panda! COME BACK HERE, I’M NOT DONE TALKING!

        I feed her, I pet her, I take her to the vet, and I will wish her happy birthday on Thursday and give her a damn can of moist food with chunks and sauce. But she is the most annoying cat I have ever had. Sometimes I feel badly about this and make greater efforts to see her good qualities, but they are usually subsumed under her persistent bellyaching.

        Since my weight has again splattered against the brick wall of 181 pounds of panda, let’s forgo primal and weight loss conversation today and just tell our weirdest/most annoying pet stories instead.
        JOIN THE PANDA SHOW!!! Primal With A Side Of FABULOUS and PANDALOONERY!

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        • I have several, but I'll space 'em out so I'm not typing this for 3 hrs at work.
          Growing up, I had a cat named Emerson, after the television (I hoped it was the author, but no, it was the television because he liked to sleep on top of it.) I had this cat from the time we were both 6 months old al lthe way to high school. One of the best Emerson stories was the tale of the furnace repairman. The furnace was kaput and it was the middle of winter. While, to you, it wouldn't appear that a heater would even be needed in Dallas winter, we were all freezing our nips off and my mother finally told Dad to "get it fixed of I'm renting a hotel room until you do." Dad hires the repairman. Now, mind you, Emerson was not a small cat. He was a grey and white tuxedo cat, with a grey cape and mask on a white base, and he was a good 2-3 feet long, depending on whether or not you included his tail. He was also very muscular, as he was an indoor/ outdoor cat, who had mockingbord dessert on a regular basis. At any rate, the furnace repairman shows up, and us kids are packed off to our bedroom to be out out of the way. I hear footsteps thud away, I hear him go down the stairs and navigate the maze than was the den, and then I hear thumpthumpthumpthump... "Ma'am, would you mind removing the mountain lion from in front of the furnace?" So I was summoned to remove Emerson to our bedroom and keep him there.
          We also inherited a cat named Punk when I was in HS. He made damn sure he lived up to both that and his two nicknames: "Orange Puppy" and "Orange Nuisance." He rather enjoyed human food, but wasn't the most graceful thief in the world. For example, my mother was eating fetuccine alfredo one day while watching tv. She feels her plate move, looks down, and sees Punk sitting on the side of the chair with a Fu Manchu mustache of fetuccine alfredo and the wide eyed innocent look of "who, me? I didn't do it." Another time, mom and the three of us were eating biscuits with maple peanut butter. Before any of us could get to the stove in time, Punk had a whole biscuit in his mouth, sticking out like the world's most edible hockey puck. There's also the time that he got his claw stuck in his tongue while eating a hunk of meat (no clue how.) He was yowling and hissing, but he wouldn't let us get near him to remove it and he wouldn't drop the hunk of steak so that he could remove the claw himself. We eventually ganged up on him and released the claw, but that poor cat gave himself a tongue piercing.
          Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
          My Latest Journal

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          • Children, today the joke is on Gay Panda. The Windows Vista story I wrote yesterday and then forgot to copy-paste from my Word doc to MDA, so I threw it up this morning figuring I'd hit the Brick Wall of 181 again anyway. After I hit post, I weighed myself.

            180.2

            High Fat is GROSS, High Fat is DULL, and High Fat WORKS for the fussy panda body. High Fat is a total pain-in-the-panda-neck and entering every bite of my food in a phone app is very boring and repetitive. Did I mention how repetitive it is? It's repetitive. But on January 3rd after my road trip I was 191 pounds of water-retaining panda, and High Fat shuffled that off quickly and took some friends along with it.

            I might actually hit the 170s, which I have not seen since the 1990s. That thud you just heard was my jaw hitting the floor.
            JOIN THE PANDA SHOW!!! Primal With A Side Of FABULOUS and PANDALOONERY!

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            • I have the most slutty cat I have ever met. When I say slutty, I mean this cat is a slut for love. She is an overly-friendly, fat, calico named Fae. She is never done being petted and will roll herself around at your feet and play "pet the belly". If you fall for it, she will catch your hand and either bite it, nibble it gently, or lick it. There's never any way to know.

              But she has a vicious side.

              The family cat is a petite tiger, fondly called Grumpy Cat. She is very particular about being touched, and likes to spend most of her time outdoors. This results in her getting into fights with neighborhood cats and almost getting carried off by a large bird of prey, one time. Grumpy Cat and the Slut do not get along, obviously. But one thing they have it common is that they love to hunt. Grumpy Cat is also called Amazon Warrior Queen and is a very efficient hunter. She fancies birds most, and will eat all of the animal except the feet, usually. Leftovers are usually left in the way of our walking outside of the side door. The Slut, however, likes to eviscerate her prey, and doesn't seem to eat any of it. I went to the bathroom late at night once and noticed some dark splotches on the floor, but thought nothing of it. I wasn't about to clean the bathroom at 2 in the morning. The next day, we find out that that was mouse blood, and the remains are a pile of goo at the top of the (carpeted) stairs. I think someone stepped in them, too.

              She doesn't often leave her mess in the house, but it's always the same pile of goo and blood trail. If s he was a human, she'd probably be a sociopathiec serial killer who leads a very normal social life to the untrained eye.
              Depression Lies

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              • My last pet was a huge black tom cat (with the tom surgically removed) named Judd. He came to me as a rescue cat with an unknown history, a flea collar around his neck that was so old it had rubbed the fur off in places, no front claws, and the most demanding disposition I've ever seen in an animal. He was terrified of outiside and would back away from an open door as if it was a cat-eating monster. The only information I got about him was his name, an approximate age of 5-7 years (which I later found out was about half his real age), and that he was part Siamese. The Siamese part only manifested when I came through the door every evening from work. I was then treated to a 30-45 minutes diatribe that went something like this: Thank Bast you're home. I thought you'd never get back. I've had to spend the whole day looking out windows, searching under chairs, and laying on the bed. The day was endless and you could have come home sooner. You need to find a way to stay here with me. Sit down ... NOW?! I need you to sit down, sit down, sit down ... (this went on for a while) ... look, if you're not going to sit down, at least get me something to eat, but I'd rather you sit down, sit down ... Oh, by the way, I lost a tooth today. It's over there somewhere. And that bug on the floor, yes I know it's dead, doesn't matter, you need to do something about it, 'cause I'm NOT TOUCHING that thing.

                This continued until I sat down, let him sprawl across my lap, and petted, cajoled, praised, and, in general, debased myself in my adoration of him. At that point I was allowed to feed him and myself, but he followed me around the rest of the evening commenting on everything I did, said, thought, and ate.
                "There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls." - George Carlin

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                • @naiadknight - I LOVE how he wouldn't drop the steak even with a claw in his tongue! MINE! MINEMINE . . . OW . . . MINE!

                  @namelesswonder - GROSS. I had a cat like that and I kept finding his kills in the garage. The worst was the Day of the Intestines. And then he'd be all proud of himself and pushing his face into mine for kisses. Um . . . no.

                  @Tala Mosi - His diatribe cracked me up. If Windows Vista and Judd were in the same room together, we'd have to hand out ear plugs. Yesterday I had the electrician over to work on the washer/dryer, and Windows Vista was following him all around with constant refrains of what are you doing now? What are you doing now? What are you doing NOW? Do you see my food bowl? IT HAS KIBBLE IN IT. I HATE KIBBLE.
                  JOIN THE PANDA SHOW!!! Primal With A Side Of FABULOUS and PANDALOONERY!

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                  • Like I said, Punk's not exactly the brightest crayon in the box.
                    Onwards with more stories...
                    Valentino (AKA the Chinese Family Pack) is another huge tuxedo cat, except he's FAT. We're talking 20 lb of cat. He's a lot like Judd with the outside world. It scared him shitless (quite literally on at least one occasion, I had to change my clothes.) He came to the family as a little 3 month old kitten you could hold in your hands and grew to the size of a terrier with a length of over 2.5', excluding tail. This cat was also known as Johnny, as when he was really tired, he did a mean Jack Sparrow impression, swaying and staggering his way to the next sunny spot on the floor. We had a row of ducks hanging above the doorway to the breakfast nook (about 6' up) that he would jump and tag from sitting on the ground.
                    All the cats we've ever had played milk tab hockey (the little plastic piece that seal the cap on), all over the kitchen. Eventually they'd lose it and it would start again with the next milk tab.
                    Bob was a smokey gray calico female without a tail. She's not all that bright, thus her nickname is Dumb Blonde. She has a tendency to sit around in Cheesecake Bob pose, which is unfortunate, because when she sits around the house, she sits aROUND the house. Cheesecake Bob pose is sprawled out, halfway on her back, in a "DAMN, I'm sexy" pose, giving you bedroom eyes (which is pretty fucking hilarious , given that she was fixed as early as we could.)
                    And now there's the mutt, Pino. She's a pointer/ border collie mix. Smart as hell, willful as a two year old right before bedtime, and very expressive. She has the pointer eyebrows, which defines her facial expressions very well, ranging from "Oh SHIT! You found that" to "Play?!" to a hopeful "is that mine now?" to "huh?" to "WTF?!" to "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, slowpoke!" She's learned multiple commands, as well as "kibble manners." Kibble Manners mean that before we put the food in her dish, she has to be up on the bench and sitting down. After we put it in her dish, she has to wait for the command to be released to go eat. She has to relinquish food or water if we reach for it, and if we go to fill her water bowl, she has to do the same as with the food bowl, even if she's in the middle of eating.
                    She also hoards, "helps," and uses tools. If she finds something in the yard that wasn't there before, she'll do one of 3 things: hoard it in her doghouse or "safe deposit bush" if she finds it interesting, place it in the middle of the path to the back fence if she doesn't want it or it doesn't belong in the yard, or turn it into a toy. I have to clean out idiot dog's house every few months to get rid of her collection of "treasures." As to tools, she's the only dog I've ever seen use a lever to flip something over or use a blanket as a travois to haul stuff out into the yard to play with. She does it though. She'll also let you know if she thinks you're ignoring her or you're going too complex on the commands. Both are the same noise, kind of a doggie version of "Ayayay, what the hell?" If she's confused, you'll get that same noise. We taught her early on that she's not to bark unless things come into the yard. She took that a little too literally and now barks at squirrels as if they were OMGBURGLARINTRUDERGETITGETITGETIT!!!!!!
                    Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                    My Latest Journal

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                    • Maybe not a funny story....more of an amazing story..

                      This is a story about my cat Bubba. Bubba was a long hair persian, he was black and white, originally he was named Bethoven, but his lack of intelligence took over his personality, and he quickly turned into a Bubba.

                      Bubba was about 16 pounds, and unless he was headed to the food bowl he would not walk across the room without at least falling down once to take a 3-4 minute nap. You could pack him around like a baby, in fact my daughter dressed him up in doll clothes many times. All he would ask for was food and love. Such a sweet Bubba.

                      One Christmas morning we were up very early because the kids were being picked up by 'No Responsibility Father'. He was due to be at the house at 8am, so we were up at 6am to get the kids breakfast and make sure they were all packed and all. Early is not my idea of fun, especially since we stayed up late having our Christmas. I was in the living room making love to a cup of hot coffee when "house Boy' started throwing a fit. "I told those kids not to put tennis shoes in the dryer, why in the hell won't anyone listen to me?" About that time I looked toward the door and saw my daughters tennis shoes sitting there next to her suitcase. So it must have been my son's shoes. Son walks into the room, with shoes ON! I look at House Boy, and he looks at me and we both jump up and run to the dryer. He opens it up and pulls out poor Bubba. His tounge was hanging out of his mouth and there was steam coming from his fur. The back door was right there and House Boy opened up the door and started grabbing snow and rubbing it on his belly and neck. Bubba started to move. I grabbed a towel and got it wet and wrapped him up in the cool towel. His eyes were blood shot, he has blood on his nose and mouth......but he moved his head and meowed, wrenching his head toward one side.......he was looking at his food bowl and trying to get at it!
                      We didnt let him eat right then, and the aggrivation from that seemed to bring him back to the living! Within an hour he was back with us 100%, and other than being very bruised and sore he was perfectly fine after a couple days.
                      During the time we were sitting around Bubba, trying to get him cooled down, wondering if the kids needed to say a final goodbye to him before they left for the week, the "No Responsibilities Father" called. He hit an elk on the way over the pass to our house, totaled the van, and could not come get the kids till the next day. Hehehhehehhheeee A Christmas present two fold!
                      Redflame
                      Started PB Aug 9, 2010 then let 'stuff' get in the way
                      Back to start and make a fantastic 2012
                      Goal of Significant Weight Loss
                      15 pounds down! with more to go!

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                      • ^Oh my gosh! Did you ever find out who put Bubba in the dryer!
                        Depression Lies

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                        • Didn't you know that cat burglar is a misnomer, naiadknight? It should be squirrel burglar, and that dog is performing a public service!

                          Ack, Redflame, what a story! I'm glad the kitty was okay. When I was a cub I always had to check the dryer because I had a cat whose life REVOLVED around sneaking into it. He wanted to sleep in there. It made me insane.
                          JOIN THE PANDA SHOW!!! Primal With A Side Of FABULOUS and PANDALOONERY!

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                          • Bubba put himself in the dryer. We had taken part of a load of towels out, went to start folding them and they were not quite dry and we put them back in with the others and turned the dryer on. He had crawled in there while the door was open.
                            He lived another 5 years. He did have little 'episodes' now and then where he would fall from a sitting position, and lay there in a daze for a couple minutes. But rattling the food bowl always brought him back to conscienceness
                            Redflame
                            Started PB Aug 9, 2010 then let 'stuff' get in the way
                            Back to start and make a fantastic 2012
                            Goal of Significant Weight Loss
                            15 pounds down! with more to go!

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                            • Originally posted by Gay Panda View Post
                              Didn't you know that cat burglar is a misnomer, naiadknight? It should be squirrel burglar, and that dog is performing a public service!

                              Ack, Redflame, what a story! I'm glad the kitty was okay. When I was a cub I always had to check the dryer because I had a cat whose life REVOLVED around sneaking into it. He wanted to sleep in there. It made me insane.
                              REVOLVED...........ohhhh that was BAD Gay Panda
                              Redflame
                              Started PB Aug 9, 2010 then let 'stuff' get in the way
                              Back to start and make a fantastic 2012
                              Goal of Significant Weight Loss
                              15 pounds down! with more to go!

                              Comment


                              • Here's a Fabulously Adorable Miss Lilly Buttercup (the Papillon with one blue eye) event.
                                She is a negotiator.
                                This is a conversation we had the other day:
                                "Lily, you've got a mat under your arm (I showed it to her). I need to cut it out with these scissors (I showed her the scissors). I need you to jump up on the couch and lay down for me."
                                She stood on the floor and looked away from me.
                                I said "If you will let me fix the mat, I will give you 1,2 treats."
                                No.
                                "What about 1,2,3 treats?"
                                No.
                                Finally at 1,2,3,4,5,6 treats, she jumped up on the couch and I explained it to her again. She laid down, on her side, and let me cut the mat out! Then I counted out 1,2,3,4,5,6 treats for her.
                                "Be careful what you pretend to be because you are what you pretend to be." Kurt Vonnegut
                                "I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by." Douglas Adams
                                "Moderation sucks." Suse
                                "Wine is a vegetable." Meaty
                                "Every decision you make, from what you eat to what you do with your time tonight, turns you into who you are tomorrow and the day after that." Cmdr Chris Hadfield


                                Winencandy

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