So as you may or may not know, one of my projects is a small wholesale bakery called Top Shelf.  I make muffins, scones, cookies and cupcakes and deliver them to a local deli once or twice a week.

Even with strenuous brushing and twice-a-week vacuuming, Ricky and Julian’s summer shedding was becoming unmanageable.  Wisps of fuzz kept appearing in the most unsanitary places- stuck to my mixer, clinging to rubber spatulas, and nauseatingly, in my catering trays.  

Ricky’s fur is thicker, but being the strapping, clean-cut young fellow he is, I knew he wasn’t to blame.  It was Julian, the sloppy dipshit who hangs out in the sink and can’t even wash his own ass.  He was a walking health code violation.  Every time I picked him up, greasy bits of his fur would stick to my sweaty face.   

So Jason and I decided it was time for a haircut.  The man has a cosmetology license and a set of clippers, but even that didn’t prepare us for what a goddamn pain in the ass it is to shave a cat.  It took so long we gave up on trying to make him look cool and just focused on trying to make him less disgusting.  The end result looked like dingy, retarded lamb.  But one that is suddenly experiencing a significant increase in snuggles and smooches.

My question now is, what the fuck do I do with the quart-sized ziploc bag of fur I saved to commemorate this mild incident of animal abuse?

FIND THE JERK.

I woke up one morning and found that my cats had fused themselves together.  I will miss seeing them wrestle, and they’ll probably eat just as much, but their knocking-shit-over powers have been drastically reduced.

How the fuck did they even get up there?  They probably stood on each other’s shoulders or something.  Ugh.  They’re probably the ones who stole my neighbor’s car.

Hey guys, I know how much you love turquoise kitchen accessories so when I saw these comfy chair pads on clearance at Target, I thought of you.  Oh good, you like them.  That’s nice.

My friend Jason came over to feed the boys while I was away and took these covert undercover photos of Ricky and Julian having an extravagant buffet dinner with his phone.  I’m pretty sure this was Julian’s idea, or else Ricky is just real good at making Julian look bad. But it didn’t really work.

Julian, you’re greasy, shaggy, dumb as hell, and you look like a Muppet.  You always either have food on your face or shit on your legs.  But I love you like the son I never want to have, and for some reason so do all my friends.  My friend Bob feeds him bacon out of his mouth.   Jason has pictures of him on his phone that he shows to all his friends.  Patni finds him a kindred spirit, as her family used to call her “Garbage Disposal” when she was little.  Consider Julian’s popularity in the face of his many extremely unappealing traits an underdog success story and think about how you can apply that to your own life.

It’s hard to take a picture ‘round these parts without getting a cat in it.  Here Julian makes a cameo in a recent recipe photo guide.  

Recently, a couple of mornings in a row, I have awakened with keys from my laptop mysteriously detached from my keyboard and scattered around the bed.  I have a bad habit of needing to watch tv shows on my laptop before going to sleep, and I’m also on ambien, so who knows how those things could come off!  But I always suspected that one of the boys had something to do with it.  

Four missing keys and one key replacement instructional youtube video later, I woke up to a cat USING MY LAPTOP LIKE A SCRATCH PAD.  I’m not even sure if it was Ricky or Julian but I’m sure I woke up the whole house yelling at them at 3 in the morning.  What a dick!

When I first adopted my boys, it didn’t take me long to figure out that in order to rein in the constant farting and diarrhea I had to feed them the same food for every meal.  As hilarious as it is to trick your cats into eating things that aren’t necessarily food, you’re always the one that ends up paying for it in the end.  But then you can’t always control what they eat, even if you’re the one buying their food…

I spent the morning baking, and Julian spent the morning in the sink licking generic-brand shortening from spatulas and nibbling on apple cores.  Unsurprisingly, he later shit himself.  I threw that shitty cat in the tub with the intention of giving him a thorough ass-scrubbing, only, I haven’t done it in awhile, so I was out of practice.  He attempted to climb over me while I held him down, resulting in a half dozen of these dime-sized spider-bite looking clawmark/bruise things all over my back and shoulder.  Thanks, jerk! 

I thought we should discuss the similarities between Julian and Brak.