I've been tagged (but not yet released)

My colleague over at The Political Cat swatted at me and connected. She "tagged" me to join a virtual confessional in which participants reveal six random things about themselves. I cannot compete with TPC, who has clearly lived a more precarious life than your faithful feline correspondent. Still, I shall add my revelations to the collective:

1. I believe that I gained my self-awareness after nicking scraps from a magical dumpster.

2. When I lived on the streets, I once stole a sandwich from a homeless person.

3. When I was born, my mother looked at me and said, "Some day, all the world will perch on your every word." OK, I made that up. What she actually said was, "Here are the milk dispensers. Wipe your mouth when you're done. I'm going to take nap."

4. I like rats. Not to eat. To observe. I admire their cunning, their creativity and the great extent to which they value extended family.

5. In cat years, I am 13. Thereabouts.

6. For many questions of style and grammar, I consult Strunk and White's The Elements of Style, which doles out very stern advice while still acknowledging: "The shape of our language is not rigid; in questions of usage we have no lawgiver whose word is final."

I HEREBY TAG:

• Sungold at Kittywampus, a political hero.

• Hipparchia at Over the Cliff, Onto the Rocks (Lemmings, Cliff, Rocks, Splat).

• David at Leave Me Alone, I'm Digging.

• Debbie at Debbie Does Life. She's really good at lists.

• Margaret and Helen over at Margaret and Helen, though they are probably way too famous to have time for this. I think it'd really be smashing if Margaret revealed six things about Helen, and vice versa. Those birds have known each other for 60 years. Imagine the secrets they could spill!

• Mrs. Wigglebottom, in care of Aunt B. at Tiny Cat Pants. Confess yourself, oh great and wondrous pit bull!

YOUR INSTRUCTIONS
(should you choose to accept this mission)
* Link to the person who tagged you.
* Post the rules on your blog.
* Write six random things about yourself.
* Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.
* Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
* Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

* * * * * * * *

Confessions of my colleague ThePoliticalCat (with my responses in italics)

1. I once worked as a blackjack dealer in an illegal gambling club.
I once challenged a street cat named Blackjack to a duel. He lost.
A toe, an eye and his entire paycheck for the month.

2. I once had a reasonable degree of prowess in eight different languages,
thereby proving that you lose it if you don't use it.
I can communicate with Persians.

3. I once lived in a place with no electricity or water,
drawing my own water from a well and chopping wood to cook food.
I once lived in a place with no roof.

4. I helped my Dad make a lotus pond,
the enjoyment of which was mostly ruined by the drinking habits of a tigress and her cub.
I never met my dad, but my mother said he was more ruinous than a family of tigers.

5. I hiked 22 miles in a single day before I became a gimp.
Wow. I can't top that. My paws ache to think about it.

6. I once distracted a cobra so my siblings could flee before it spat at them.
I once lapped up some beer from a half-drunk bottle of King Cobra discarded in an alley.
I did a spit-take and sprayed malt liquor all over my siblings.

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.

The hungry kitty asks: Are you breathing? Just checking.

So, the Madame comes in and says something about how she heard that if a dog's "master" dies in the house, the dog will starve to death rather than "partake". But, she says, if a cat's caregiver dies, the cat will eat her benefactor as soon as the Meow Mix runs out. Henry, she says, is this true?

Dogs are so stupid, I said.