nitefly
TPF Noob!
- Joined
- Jan 3, 2006
- Messages
- 988
- Reaction score
- 4
- Location
- Birmingham, UK
- Website
- www.rawmusicians.com
THE DOG'S DIARY:
7 am- Oh boy! A walk! My favourite!
8 am- Oh boy! Dog food! My favourite!
9 am- Oh boy! The kids! My favourite!
Noon- Oh boy! The yard! My favourite!
2 pm- Oh boy! A car ride! My favorite!
3 pm- Oh boy! The kids! My favorite!
4 pm- Oh boy! Playing ball! My favorite!
6 pm- Oh boy! Welcome home Mom! My favorite!
7 pm- Oh boy! Welcome home Dad! My favorite!
8 pm- Oh boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9 pm- Oh boy! Tummy rubs on the couch! My favorite!
11 pm- Oh boy! Sleeping in my people's bed! My favorite!
THE CAT'S DIARY:
Day 183 of my captivity...
My captors continued to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal.
The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild
satisfaction I get from clawing the furniture.
Tomorrow I may eat another house plant.
Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while
they were walking almost succeeded. Maybe I should try this at the
top of the stairs.
In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again
induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair - must try this on their
bed.
Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body in an attempt to
make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their
hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little
kitty cat I was. This is not working according to plan.
There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices.
I was placed in solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I
could hear the noise and smell the food. More important, I overheard
that my confinement was due to my powers of inducing something called "allergies."
Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.
I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches.
The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is
obviously a half-wit.
The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant. He speaks with
them regularly, and I am certain he reports my every move.
Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured.
But I can wait.
7 am- Oh boy! A walk! My favourite!
8 am- Oh boy! Dog food! My favourite!
9 am- Oh boy! The kids! My favourite!
Noon- Oh boy! The yard! My favourite!
2 pm- Oh boy! A car ride! My favorite!
3 pm- Oh boy! The kids! My favorite!
4 pm- Oh boy! Playing ball! My favorite!
6 pm- Oh boy! Welcome home Mom! My favorite!
7 pm- Oh boy! Welcome home Dad! My favorite!
8 pm- Oh boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9 pm- Oh boy! Tummy rubs on the couch! My favorite!
11 pm- Oh boy! Sleeping in my people's bed! My favorite!
THE CAT'S DIARY:
Day 183 of my captivity...
My captors continued to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal.
The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild
satisfaction I get from clawing the furniture.
Tomorrow I may eat another house plant.
Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while
they were walking almost succeeded. Maybe I should try this at the
top of the stairs.
In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again
induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair - must try this on their
bed.
Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body in an attempt to
make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their
hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little
kitty cat I was. This is not working according to plan.
There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices.
I was placed in solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I
could hear the noise and smell the food. More important, I overheard
that my confinement was due to my powers of inducing something called "allergies."
Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.
I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches.
The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is
obviously a half-wit.
The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant. He speaks with
them regularly, and I am certain he reports my every move.
Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured.
But I can wait.