While I Was Sleeping I Missed 22,222 OR Why Didin't Anyone Tell Me? Or Some Other Random Shizz

My hit counter went over 22,222 sometime last night.  I suppose it doesn't really mean anything except folks have read my stuff 22,222 times.  But it's like watching the car's odometer running over a big number.  You don't want to look away.  (Anyway, sorry I missed it.  Dammit.  It could mean something.  It could be like the Mayan Calendar of Doom.  I'm just saying.  It happened and something could have happened.  How do we know something didn't happen?  I'm thinking a volcano erupted a buttload of Skittles or someone won the lottery at that precise moment in time.  Something.)  (It was probably more like someone broke a fingernail or tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and sued their neighbor, but I can be cheerfully optimistic.)

Here's the rampant excitement I imagine really happened at approximately 2 AM EST.  This person was probably ecstatic with glee.  They might have tinkled in their big boy/girl panties.  (Really.)  (I'm not drawing a picture of that.)

In other bat news, I have come to the conclusion that the cat, also known as Megaroy, also known as my daughter's stupid cat, also known as the beast who wants to sleep on my side of the bed and I don't mean HIM, is a moron.  Well, I should say he's a selective moron.  (He's obviously not stupid about the warmest spot on the bed.)

I shall prove it.  I have three incontrovertible pieces of proof.

1.  The cat will not eat chicken.  I don't mean chicken by-products in a can.  (Although he won't touch hot dogs or baloney and what does that tell you?)  I mean we got fried chicken from KFC and we gave him some.  Not the skin or the fried parts, but hunks of actual chickeny meat.  And he turns his little uppity nose at it.  (I had cats that would be under the covers on the opposite end of the house who would instantly arise upon my entrance into the house carrying a closed box of KFC and they would be there...instantly.  They knew I had chicken.  They knew I would give them some.  They were all over it.  It was manna from heaven.)

2.  The cat prefers dry food to wet food.  I have never had a pet that preferred dry food to wet.  This suggests some sort of innate brain damage all by itself, I'm pretty sure.  (Can't help the comparison to the other cats.  They would look at the dry food and look at me as if saying, "You really want me to eat this, you poor stupid idiot.")  This cat gets fresh dry cat food and does a little happy dance.

I just noticed that the excitement/happy/wondrous beams coming
from the cat food bowl look exactly like the ones coming
from the numbers on the computer screen on the first
animation.  In no way am I comparing fresh cat food
with neat numbers.

Had to make a minor correction because HIM said something
needed to be coming out of the cat's aft area.
HIM would know about such things.
Wow.  I just really burned HIM and HIM won't know
it unless he rereads the blog.  Hahaha.

3.  The cat cannot sit.  He walks to a place, stops, and falls over.  It seems to be his MO.  He walks into the hallway, stops, and falls over onto his side and looks at at you, like, "What, you want me to move?  You shouldn't have given me the fresh chicken over the dry food, beeyotch."  (Someone is probably going to ask if there's something neurologically wrong with the stupid cat, but he's capable in all other ways.  It's just something Megaroy does.)

There's more but I'm feeling like I might be hurting the cat's feelings.  (My daughter thinks I'm being mean to poor, little, stupid Megaroy.  I told her, "Don't worry, honey.  He doesn't understand my sense of humor.")  (Somewhere, Mellow, my sister's cat, is hissing at me.)

Off to see John Carter and have a hugely compassionate heartache for the descent of Edgar Rice Burrough's characters into wretched Disneymania.  (Hey, there might be a blog in that.)