What a cute kitty zhiba!

DOG DIARY:

8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!

9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!

9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!

10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!

12:00 PM - Lunch! My favorite thing!

1:00 PM - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!

3:00 PM - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!

5:00 PM - Milk bones! My favorite thing!

7:00 PM - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!

8:00 PM - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!

11:00 PM - Sleeping on t he bed! My favorite thing!



CAT DIARY:

Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.

Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.

In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomited on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. Bastards!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again to morrow --- but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.

The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.

I agree with beautyfrompain.

Very true!

Yes.

A cowboy and his gal walk into a bar and make their way to the back to get a table. The gal is quite pretty and many eyes follow her to the table. After getting seated the cowboy tells her to go get some beers. The gal gets up and heads towards the bar. On the way there she is stopped by two different men, each one whispers something to her and she looks more upset each time.

When the gal gets back with the beer, the cowboy asks her what the first guy said. She replied, "He told me he wanted to lick my breasts!" The cowboy starts to roll up his sleeves.

Getting angrier he asks his gal what the second guy said. She replies, "He said he would love to turn me upside down and fill my vagina full of beer, then drink it all!" The cowboy then starts to roll his sleeves back down...The gal says, "What are you doing?" The cowboy says, "I'm not messing with a man that can drink that much beer!"

These three guys got together one day and were talking about how drunk they got at a party the night before.

The first guy said, "Man I was so drunk last night I went home and blew chunks."

The second guy said, "Man that was nothing I was so drunk last night I was driving home and I got my DWI."

The third guy says, "Man that was nothing. I was so drunk last night I was driving home and I picked up a prostitute and my wife caught us in bed."

Then the first guy said, "No -- you guys don't understand! Chunks is my dog!"

Positive thoughts and many prayers.

Happy birthday!

The Pope decided to grant absolution to three sinners.

The first person to come up was Howard Stern. The Pope asked, "What is your sin?"
"I've offended people all over the country." The Pope replied, "Kneel down. I'll bless you and grant you absolution."

Next was Bill Clinton. "What is your sin?" Clinton said, "I cheated on my wife."
The Pope looks at him and says, "Kneel down, my son. I'll bless you and grant you absolution."

The Pope then asked a third sinner, "What is your name?" "Monica Lewinsky."
The Pope said, "Maybe you should remain standing."

The finals of the National Poetry Contest last year came down to two finalists. One was a San Francisco State University graduate from an upper-crust family; well-bred, well-connected and all that goes with it. The other finalist was a redneck from Texas A & M. Go figure.
The rules of the contest required each finalist to compose a four-line poem in one minute or less, and the poem had to contain the word “Timbuktu.”

The San Francisco State graduate went first. About thirty seconds after the clock started he jumped up and recited the following poem:

“'Slowly across the desert sand
Trekked the dusty caravan.
Men on camels, two by two
Destination -- Timbuktu.”

The audience went wild! How, they wondered if the redneck could top that?! The clock started again and the redneck sat in silent thought. Finally, in the last few seconds, he jumped and recited:

“Tim and me, a-huntin' went.
Met three whores in a pop-up tent.
They was three, we was two,
So I bucked one and Timbuktu”

Two guys were in a bar, and they were both watching the television when the news came on. It showed a guy on a bridge who was about to jump, obviously suicidal. "I'll bet you $10 he'll jump," said the first guy. "Bet you $10 he won't," said the second guy.

Then, the guy on the television closed his eyes and threw himself off the bridge. The second guy hands the first guy the money.

"I can't take your money," said the first guy. "I cheated you. The same story was on the five o'clock news." "No, no. Take it," said the second guy. "I saw the five o'clock news too. I just didn't think the guy was dumb enough to jump again!"