And everybody was Kung Fu fighting

Many people don't realize just how complex of a cat I am. They just see a cherubic slightly obese old cat sitting on the couch placidly. But there's far more to me than they think.

My character has more depth than Lake Superior. That's a pretty deep lake, just ask Stephanie. I've got more history than the Domesday Book.

When I'm lounging around idly, I'm actually reliving my many memories from my early days. Back before I was the proud and self-actualized creature you see now. Back when I was an alley cat just scratching to make his place in the world, or litter box.

I was born during the Clinton years, and I subscribe to many of the values that were prevalent during his administration. I ate until I was full then ate some more, attempted to mate with as many females as possible until I got cut (oh yes, I was quite a man whore) and even dabbled in more catnip than was healthy. Just ask me about the three day purr binge I went off on after being given a Puss n Boots catnip-filled mouse toy. It was cosmic.

My youthful excesses eventually caught up with me. My old owners ditched my sorry ass off at the Humane Society when I grew so bulbous that I couldn't lie on my back and turn over. So there I sat, in a small cage surrounded by more sleek and attractive kitties, when I saw my current and last (as if anyone would take an ugly fella like me in again) owner.

But that's another story, and we have much time to tell it.