X-Mas

Oh X-Mas. Could any holiday be better for an awesome cat of awesome like me?

The morning of that fateful day dawned and three cats raced anxiously to their stockings... only to realize that despite the fact that there were stockings, there was nothing in those stockings.

FOILED!

Well, to be fair, we got stuff ahead of time, but still, a cat can hope that his stocking is full of even more stuff, can't he? Where was Santa Paws and why did he not visit in the night? Was it... because I am a bad cat? SORROW! WOE!

Okay, though, I have to be honest: being the Bad Cat is worth being spurned by Santa Paws.

Besides, the humans make up for it in their adoration of me. As I've mentioned previously, my outstanding work these year caused me-- okay, all of us, but mainly me-- to get this great toy that has holes in it and THINGS in those holes, so we have to poke poke poke to get them out. It's great.

So, yeah, my holidays were pretty incredible, made so by my own hard work and ingenuity. No other cat in the world had a better X-mas.

And if they did, I demand satisfaction! Because mine SHOULD be the best.

Gleefully yours,
Simon

A Truth Universally Acknowledged

It is a truth universally acknowledged that cats have an honest and pure duty to bite, rip, and tear all stuffed animals. Being a Cat of Cats, a Kingly Cat, a Cat of Awesome Badness, I could no more deny my duty in this manner than I could fly. (Note to self-- see if you can fly.)

You must understand, the Pig was asking for it. It was all up in my business, trying to sock me on my gorgeous if-I-do-say-so-myself nose. I therefore had to bite its little piggy snout and squish it, just a little.

Such is my catly duty.

Of course, it is also the nature of the noble cat to forgive and cease biting once the scurrilous creature that offended ye awesome cat apologizes. Therefore, I was eventually able to forgive Piglet and get on with my life.

In the days before Christmas, the cats have managed to con one of the vet techs, Beth, into providing us with stockings. Having stockings, naturally, means that they have to be filled. I, however, through my sneaky cat ways, have managed to hear rumors that Dr. Wood got me a present that was too big for my stocking! I love loot. It's part of my Pirate King of Bad ways.

Sneakily, Piglet-lovingly, hilariously yours,
Simon

Discovery! Simon's Cat.

I have discovered that a fellow cat has been immortalized in my name. Okay, perhaps not in my name but honestly, we all know that every Simon in the world refers in some way to me, don't we? Let's not kid ourselves-- the name Simon can only be referential to my awesomeness, can it not?

Wholeheartedly, I give to you, Simon's Cat. The video below is, in particular, reflective of the season. I feel that Simon's Cat truly reflects the awesome powers of catdom, and our constant struggle to be well fed.



Reminding me, of course, that The Diet has failed spectacularly and you might not be able to discern me from The Other Simon, my dear court archivist, Jake. We appear to have an equal amount of, ah, majesty, shall we say?

A cat is always in need of more majesty.

Yours in rotundness,
Simon