You made a woman meow? (From When Harry Met Sally)

Dude, I'm not so sure I can take much more of this.

First there is all the BS with the bowling bag and the Wet Cat Incident. Just when I think things are getting back to normal, this guy shows up. And he doesn't go away.

Listen buddy, I don't know who you are, and what you think you're doing, but let's just get one thing straight, pucko. I'M the man of THIS house, and you better get used to it. Like yesterday, already.

He comes in the door, and I think, "Okay, maybe he's the pizza delivery guy." Those pizza delivery guys, they're pretty harmless, and if I'm lucky, Curiosa will drop some cheese. I love le fromage, man.

So it's a pretty simple formula, as far as I'm concerned. Get the pie, pay the dude, and send him on his merry way. BUT HE DOESN'T LEAVE!

He comes in, and he sits on MY couch. Not only does he sit on MY couch, he stretches out on it like he belongs there or something. Watch it, buddy! You don't know who you're dealin' with!! I could totally pounce you!

So I sit there on the other couch glaring at him, hoping he'll GET THE MESSAGE and get his ass off MY couch. But this guy is thick. Dumb as a rock. Not a flippin' clue.

So then Curiosa comes in, and I think, "Thank God! She'll let him know who's who around here."

But then, not only does she NOT let him know who's who, she sits down besides him. She seems to encourage him to keep sitting on the couch.

And just when I think that things couldn't possibly get any worse, the Dude has the audacity to put his head in MY lap. (I don't mean my lap, per se. I'm a cat; I don't have a lap.) I mean the Lap that Belongs to Me. The Lap that I sit in, when I please and where I please. On MY couch, if you failed to remember that part.

I continue to sit and stare, until finally I lick myself and pretend not to care anymore.

Then it's bed time. As in "good night, sleep tight, sucker." Now, I think, he's get the hell out of here and I can have Curiosa to myself again.

Wrong again! This had to be the worst part...I think this might even be worse than being zipped into that damn red bowling bag and carried around like some kind of purse or something. They lock me out of MY bedroom, and prevent me from sleeping on MY bed, next to MY Curiosa.

Curiosa mumbled some kind of half-hearted explanation about something called "allergies" and said I'd probably have to get used to sleeping on the couch.

Then she tacked up a sign on the bedroom door in scrawled handwriting that read, "No Pussies Allowed."

Finally the Dude and I agreed on something. The Dude said maybe Curiosa should specify that she meant the four-footed kind of pussy, and then she said that if he didn't watch it, he could very well end up sleeping on the couch with me. Believe me, that was an option that NEITHER of us wanted.

But I'm not so sure that Curiosa stuck to her guns on that one. I may only be a little kitty, but I know the sound of mewing when I hear it. And if I'm not mistaken, I heard a distinct meowing sound coming from the bedroom. And I'm pretty sure it was coming from Curiosa.

I digress. My point was, THEY MADE ME SLEEP ON THE FRIGGIN' COUCH. I sat there all night and glared at the door, waiting to pounce whoever came out first. Of course, when the Dude finally came out, I pretended to be asleep, and when he came back through, I was licking myself again.

When the Dude finally left once and for all, Curiosa was still sleepy. She let me in, and I went right up to the pillows and made sure those pillows knew who they belonged to.

As for the Dude, I hope he checked his boots before he left, otherwise he was in for a squishy surprise.

One word, Dude, one word: POOPALICIOUS.