Whose credit card did the cat use?

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War on tobacco

Isn't it bad enough that our soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan can't have a beer?

Study recommends total ban on smoking for soldiers.

A remote control for your cat

Good luck with that one.

Ban blowtorches for nitwits?

You decide.

Twenty-five firefighters put themselves at risk to calm the blaze and he "wasn't charged"? Not even with stupidity?

Speaking of dissections ...

Three quarters of the way through the Tampa Bay v. Carolina Panthers game Sunday (due to the Cats having been thoroughly routed), the Madame made an executive decision to switch off the game. A better use of time, she announced, would be for me to make you a little cat-sized football helmet.

In a related piece of news, a young woman in Asheville has legally changed her name from Jennifer to the name of an anti-vivisection Web site. Her name is now CutoutDissection.com. Wow, and you thought McLovin got some strange looks from police officers.

How are these two situations related, you say? Because I'm thinking of changing my name to: PutThisOnMyHeadAgain&YouWillBeVivisected.

Another bad idea: Old Yeller dog food

I'm not kidding. The Madame saw it at the store today and thought she was hallucinating. Made by Disney. Sold by Kroger. You remember Old Yeller. The movie in which the lovable stray dog gets rabies and his owner, a little boy, has to shoot the mutt.

From the Kroger press release announcing the deal:

"The movie is a timeless classic that transcends generations, and we believe this brand will appeal not only to original fans, but to the millions of Americans who share the same kind of special bond with their beloved dogs."

The Madame says she has spent 30 years trying to put that tragic movie ending out of her mind.

What's next? Cat Splat Kibble? Charlotte's Web Tarantula Chow?

Headline: "Henry the Cat Joins Earth Hour '08 Blackout"

This is me, one hour ago, sitting on the bathroom floor, observing Earth Hour against my will. I'm all for conservation, as protecting the planet is to everyone's benefit, humans and mine. But seriously, turn off your lights for an hour? What kind of sacrifice is that when most people will just spend it basking in the glow of the television or blogging by the light of the monitor? Why not suck it up and eschew all electricity for one hour?

I bet if I had turned on the TV to CNN one hour ago, I would have seen the anchors commentating by candlelight, prattling on ad nauseum about the "planet in peril." Hiding in the dark for the hour was the preferable and safest thing to do, as, contrary to popular belief, cats cannot see in the dark. Really. I read it on wikipedia.

Your tax dollars, boomeranged

Yesterday the lady and gentleman of the house received The Letter from the U.S. Government informing them they will be receiving the much hyped tax rebate that is part of President Bush's plan to stimulate the economy. Not only has everyone, with the exception of those living in a bunker, already heard about the rebate, most have also heard about The Letter they would be receiving informing them of the pending windfall.

Apparently, the government believed some people would be confused if they received money out of thin air. Because humans are so honest, they will not cash a mystery check that finds its way into their mailboxes, and so they would have no extra money to spend, which is vital to Stimulating The Economy.

It cost the government $42 million to mail out The Letter. The lady of the house was beside herself all day, wondering aloud how that sum of money could have been put to better use. In the hopes of shutting her up, I decided to do a little investigating to see what $42 million would buy.

For $42 million, you could do one of the following:

• Pay the salary of 1,050 elementary school teachers for one year
• Pay for 4.2 million flu shots
• Buy 13 million gallons of gas
• Spay/neuter 646,000 cats
• Pay for 56,000 colonoscopies
• Pay for 280,000 mammograms
• Buy 15,556 complete sets of military body armor

I assumed I would please the lady by providing this information to her. However, she is now frothing at the mouth, and her face has turned blue.

What did I do wrong?

Attention all rabbits: mind your ears and tongues

Easter is fast upon us, and sadistic children everywhere will soon be savagely biting the ears off chocolate bunnies. I know, I know. You probably find this activity harmless. But remember what happened when trinket manufacturers decided dyed rabbit feet would make dandy keychains? Somewhere a diabolical entrepreneur is thinking: People are ravenous for chocolate bunny ears. But they so quickly melt away. Real bunny ears are substantive. Sort of like a Slim Jim. And then a light bulb appears: Eureka. Rabbit-ear jerky! I don't think it'd take consumers long to get on board.

The baby bunny in this picture has no idea what kind of world awaits him. If he did, he wouldn't have his marketable appendage so carelessly perched on that wire. Nor would he expose that dainty pink tongue. Let the chocolate kitten tongue story be a cautionary tale. German chocolatiers are eager to double-dip any protruding extremities in their path.

Look sharp, Peter Cottontail!

This is why you should have one of those parental control thingies on your TV

Because I don't know how you would explain this to your children otherwise.

Now, I know you're thinking: Henry, you're being cruel. How do you know that this guy didn't get the gold chain from his girlfriend and the tie from his mother and promised them both that he'd wear her gift on TV? He was already in enough trouble for whatever it was that landed him in Judge Judy's courtroom.

We'll never know for sure. But he made his decision, and he'll have to live with it. Unfortunately, so will we.

Be kind, or else!

I only just learned that last week was Random Acts of Kindness Week, designated as such by the Random Acts of Kindness Foundation. To be certain that my eye-rolling was justified, I consulted good old Webster's, which assured me that the word random means that which occurs or is done without careful choice, aim, plan, etc. So this is a rather ill-informed holiday. Further, I question the institutionalization of kindness, as the potential for corruption in such an organization is boundless.

It just so happens that I was randomly kind last week, and now I worry that the individual to whom I was kind might think that I did so only to obey a direct order. And thus, I take back my compliment, Max. I do not think you would be handsome as a starlet's fur coat.

You must be 3 feet tall to ride this ride

If the trophy for winning a beauty pageant is taller than the contestants, they are probably too young to compete.

Happy valentines day: here's some kitten tongues!

Why, why, why, would someone make candy out of cat tongues? Apparently, they're very big in France and Germany. This proprietor of tongues is all sold out.

"Fine milk chocolate cat tongues. Perfect on your most beautiful dessert table or for a delicious snack anytime. Try a little cake decorating with these cat tongues to add something extra to your party."

This cat on YouTube has no idea how at risk he is.

"It's a toilet, it's a candy dish, it's a garden of floral delights!"

To cats, a litter box is an all-business proposition. For some humans, the "site of evacuation" must be ridiculously disguised as something more. Case in point, the unholy creation pictured here. Your eyes are not deceiving you—that is a decorative glass knob with which you can lift the tank lid.

If you haven't bought a commode in the last 20 years, you'll be surprised at how hard it is to find a throne as uncomplicated as what you've grown accustomed to. At least that's what I've been hearing around this household as The Bathroom Remodel looms closer.

Feline though I am, I'm as bemused as they to learn that today's toilets have model names more fanciful than RX-30 or Low-Flow #12784. The following are actual names of actual toilets sold at your basic big-box store: the Santa Rosa, the Rialto, and the Cimarron. "All the practicality of an American Standard with the cachet of a conquistador's flagship."

My least favorite model: "Memoirs." Sort of "If toilets could talk, oh the tales they'd tell." This is a tome I shan't like to read. I would, however, be happy to pee on it if it were shredded and placed on the floor of my PVC312 Litter Box.

By the way, "Memoirs" is available in the color "Daydream."

Food critic weighs in: zero stars

I'm not much of a foodie. Frankly, my diet borders on monastic. I eat kibble in the morning. Later in the afternoon, I eat a little more kibble. And in the evening, I may eat a piece of kibble I dropped on the floor in the afternoon. On a rare occasion, I might have a lick of leftover butter-residue in the omelet pan. But recently, in a moment of recklessness, I had a roast "beef" sandwich from a place called Arby's that had some sort of "cheese" and a dubious condiment called horsey sauce (I don't want to know what that is). I've come up with a slogan I think would be appropriate for this restaurant:

"Arby's. The meal you'll regret."

The Cat Whisperer: ID'd by dental records

When our household got a satellite dish recently, there was quite a lot of interest—on the part of the Madame—in the show "The Dog Whisperer." Ill-mannered dogs are a real sticking point for her, and I have to concur. Nonetheless, I found it difficult to watch that egomaniac demeaning the dogs, always in their faces going "Tsssssst, tsssssst." The Madame mused aloud once about whether there was a cat whisperer. Indeed, there was. He now takes his meals through a straw.

What I don't want for my birthday:

Urinal Cake
Likewise, I believe that no person in his or her right mind would bake, serve or eat "Litterbox Cake." TackyLiving.com has published the recipe, described as thus:

"Litterbox Cake is a moist, tasty medley of cake and instant pudding accented with green cookie crumbs and chocolate candy “turds”. It’s especially appropriate for a cat-lover’s wedding or birthday, but really it’s hard to think of an occasion when a Litterbox Cake wouldn’t hit the spot."

There's a photo of the cake, which you can see here if you must. It is served in a tray lined with a plastic bag and is doled out with—you guessed it—a slotted cat litter scoop.

Have you ever heard the term batsh!t crazy? Do you know how many degrees of batsh!t crazy you'd have to be to serve this at a wedding?

"If you're not familiar with the appearance of kitty litter or kitty feces," the recipe says, "do some research."

I think I can help you out there. And trust me: You're not gonna like it.

HGTV, hold onto your hats

The cheapsters in this household just received a quote from the general contractor on what it's going to cost to remodel the bathroom. In order to save some money, they've decided to subcontract the demo. This is who they've chosen. God help us.

Waterfront Property! Cheap! Snorkels Included!

Ian left his still-unpacked suitcase open this morning, and I was curling up for a nap inside it when I discovered a dog-eared copy of SkyMall. Man, delusions are expensive. If you don't believe me, just check out the $129 plastic "hidden litter box" with "Tuscany handfinish" (pictured). It doubles as an artificial plant holder, and was apparently lovingly crafted by Italian plastisans.

Exclaims the ad:

"Finally, a decorative litter box you don't have to hide! Simply turn the entrance to the wall and no one will know!"

They may feign ignorance, but I think visitors will be thinking—at best—that your plant has a ginormous case of root rot. At worst, they'll whisper: "Man, I think their cat took a #&!% in the peace lily."

I am contacting SkyMall to see if they have any interest in marketing my latest invention. It's a combination litter box/lazy Susan. Perfect for parties. You cat goes in the compartment underneath. When he exits, the motion sets the top a-twirl, keeping the cocktail olives and pearl onions within reach of all your guests.