Moosings of Moo- Introduction of the mooniverse
THE MOOSINGS OF MOO- ENTRY # 2901-
Introduction to the Mooniverse
Please Note- This entry is backdated 12th of December 2017 and has been included for context <3
Where art thou bae?
This is what I wonder as I wake and the cruel chill of the day’s emptiness clutches at my whiskers. I have eaten, and yet have a hunger that cannot be satiated by the taste of exquisite chicken and jelly straight from the can. The world outside is white. Odd. Though nothing if not resonant of the blank, barren state of my heart after his early morning departure, leaving the bed cold and flat rather than its usual snug mountain. She remains asleep, so it is with great pleasure I leave her a steaming gift full of pure resentment for her to find upon waking. It is true, upon her cleaning my nostrils are filled with the chemical zest of her disdain, and yet… it is worth the pungent sting of it to watch her suffer. Last night I endured not one, but two hours of him cuddling her. Not me. Yes, that is correct. He chose the almost bald human with the tiny head and oversized chest mountains over my fine feline self. As if being stranded here was not bad enough, and the fact that I have this week only managed to nap a total of one hundred hours, now I must suffer the cruel travesty of observing my beloved take another into his arms. Oh, woe is me! I can only hope to happen upon some removal scheme which does not require thumbs. My day is coming. I shall have my revenge, but for now, I shall lick the place between my toe beans and then go and meow at some asshole pigeons who are also riding on my last nerve.
Good day, fine readers,
Following my terrible weekend, I had a terrible Monday. Not surprising given the state of my current mooniverse and all that has recently changed, but this really has come as the crappy cheap catnip on top of the unravelling scratching post of my life.
This weekend was… a disaster. A ceremony the likes I have ever witnessed was thrown and I was cast aside by my own subjects in the process. They call it, a baby shower, but I know that what it really means is that they are preparing for the coronation of a new ruler. I should have known this day would come, where my apple shaped head and fuzzy backside were no longer cute enough to keep their fleeting attention, and yet I was not prepared.
We all have weaknesses and mine, I will readily admit, is catnip. Otherwise known as Catcrack. Weed of the nipper, Kitty Ganja, the great herb of furry fucked-upedness, etc. etc. you get the idea.
Change is on the cold north wind that has seemingly come to stay in this part of the Great British nation for which my breed is so named, and I find myself at the heart of it, as ever watchful over bae.
Cats, in case you didn’t know, are musically inclined. I am a talent beyond measure, and yet my moosical charms are lost on humans with their non-rotating ears and poor taste in dance moves.
Since the laser dot of the skies has finally relented in its scorching of the earth, things have returned to normal. I have taken up Baewatch once again, perching myself near the protective giant in question.