Help! I LOVE YOU!

How do I get rid of her? She is smart and Other Mew protects her! Big Mew doesn't know! He doesn't know! Don't tell him I want to kill the others!

What do I do?

I love you!

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

Answers

Mrowrrrrrrr Cal -

I am the same. I love my Big Mew and need to kill Little Mew so he is all for me. Little Mew is newer and not so nice. She *never* gives me chicken from her dinner! Can you beleive. NO! Pfffffffttt!

Little Mew never reads here so I can tell my plan. I have started to wake up at three in the dark to demand food. Yes! Mrowrrrrr! Mrooooowwwwwrrr! MROOOOWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRR! HA! I want Little Mew to get up in the dark and stumble around and hurt herself and not sleep again. Soon she will die or go crazy and leave forever. YES! Sadly, she just yells "SHUDDUP DANIELLE!" and throws pillows to me. She is very bad at aiming, and I can run fast! Yes! Then Big Mew gets up and gives me food.

Big Mew doesn't need much sleep, so I think he is happy to give me food because he loves me - he just does not smile so much at three in the dark.

So, my plan may take time because Little Mew never gets up, but soon I think she will - and she will die! Yes! Next will be the big Bark. He is lucky he ignores me and knows his place, so I will save him for after Little Mew. Barks are stupid and can't get on counters and high things, so he will be easy to kill. Of course, he gets a lot of Big Mew's time too, so maybe he will die sooner. Yes! Do you know a good way to kill a Bark?

Mrooowwwrrrr, Danielle in Dallas

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

I knew it. My roommate has EIGHT cats, and every morning is like a scene from The Birds. Only it's The Cats. They're gonna kill me. They wait outside my door every morning so they can trip me. They're always hungry. For human flesh. I'm onto you guys. I know your plans for World Domination. I'll help you. All of you. Just don't kill me? Please?

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

hey cal,

listen up, buddy. i hate to have to be the one to tell you this but: you meow like a girl.

seriously. it's pretty sad. i mean, i like you and all. remember when i let you jump on my leg and sleep on my thigh even though i was crouching on the ground and hence, very uncomfortable?

see, i care. i do. but seriously, you sound very very, um, gay. and last i checked there aren't a lot of successful girlie-sounding assasins.

sorry.

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

Cal:

I have been sent by the Patron Saint of Faggotry (I forget his real name, but I've got it written on a bevnap somewhere) to affirm your delightfully girlish voice and manner. Regardless of what some people may think, "femme" and "axe-wielding feticidal maniac" are not necessarily mutually exclusive terms (although you'll need to grow some opposing digits to wield that axe properly). In fact, I'd argue that those two identities often go hand-in-manicured-hand. Hannibal Lecter, if I'm not mistaken, had a certain passion for wearing women's clothes--their very skin, even. And then there was that boy- kissing serial murderer from Cruising. And of course, that freak from The Fan--he was pretty girly. Oh, and let's not forget the queen of them all, Psycho's own Mr. Norman Bates. (As fate would have it, it turns out that Tony Perkins himself seems to have had a certain fascination with women's clothing--and with the male anatomy, too.)

You know, now that I think of it, it's difficult to name an on-screen psychopath who wasn't a little light in the loafers--unless maybe Annie counts.... So loosen that wrist, bring on the lisp, and let your day of ceaseless carnage begin!

Kisses, Richard

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

My dear Cal,

The Mews can be pretty quick, but are usually dumb. Make a fast move to the right and, when she thinks she's got you beat, launch yourself into the air and sink your claws into her leg.

This is especially effective if said Mew is wearing pantyhose. The claws in the hose get the usual pain-and-anguish reaction with the added bonus of the ruination the Mew's day. This action will definitely cause a sharp rise in blood-pressure and, when repeated over time, could lead to a stroke.

Good luck!

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

OK, Cal, I spend all day by myself, scheming, so I have a few suggestions. Quick overview: I love Original Mew, as she is all things lovely and feeds me soft food and let's me sleep in her bed. My problem is with New Mew. New Mew is a self-proclaimed 'Dog Person' - I know! Such horror! And I have to live with New Mew under the same roof! I have learned that New Mew is extremely helpless when she is sitting on the large piece of porcelain that flushes. Her legs are my victims. I can spread fur all over her nice pants. She is mine! I AM ALL POWERFUL!

Also, I have learned that New Mew does not like being attacked while stumbling to the kitchen in the middle of the night. I am goddess of the night! I lurk, waiting for her, then pounce at her exposed ankles! I cause her to shriek and bat at me. Alas, I am too quick for her! She has no clue! By the time stupid New Mew realizes what has happened, I am gone!

I hope you have as much success as I have had. New Mew cannot handle such ferocious competition as myself. Rowr!

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

Cal,

My big person, he had this... blech.... "girl-friend." She would come over and they would snuggle and cuddle and be happy and, believe it or not, not devote all of their attention to me! Are my green eyes not beautiful? Is my fur not soft? Is not the game where I act like I want my big person to pet me only to scamper away as soon as he moves not a fun one? Yet he dares turn his attention somewhere else!

I would give girl-friend the evilest of cat eyes, and one day she stopped coming to visit and my big person was very sad. I was a very satisfied cat.

I thought all of my troubles were over until his birthday, seven months later, when he laid out the large green fluffy-sack for the sleeping. I thought it was a nice gesture for me because I hate the hard wooden floor, but *no*, suddenly she walks in the door. My old nemesis, girl- friend.

I showed her. While my big person, girl-friend, and his buddies were out having a fun birthday time, I pooped in the big green fluffy-sack so she would have nowhere to sleep.

True story.

p.s. send pounce.

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

Cal. Kill secret THIS!!! Mastered by many other cats! Work every time! Work good! Work for YOU! Here now I say it quite.

use SECRET cat magic!!!

Secret this! Bring dead things to small Mew and she die too! Bring small Mew dead bug. Bring small Mew dead mouse. Bring small Mew dead cat litter! Soon small Mew be dead!

Oh! Where to bring. Bring to bed! But make sure only on small Mew side. Don't want big Mew dead too.

I love you too. Have grasshopper. You can kill it and give it too you know you.

Byrne

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

No, no, no. Hannibal Lechter = big manly psycho, guts cops, eats tongues through cheeks, noshes on Amway salesman livers with a charming little chianti (manly-man beverage) and some nummy fava beans. Jame Gumb = girly-man psycho, collects butterflies and moths, owns frou-frou useless poodle Bark and probably likes FiFi Mahoney's glitter eye-liner. I'm just vouchin', you know, that there's a definite possibility that Cal can be light in the loafers (paw pads) and still wield a mean axe (once he gets those opposable thumbs). Now that we got that straight, I gotta say, I'm a cat, so what's in it for me if I help you knock off your Little Mew? Are we talkin' a case of Deli-Cat kibble? You lick my back, I'll lick yours. Personally, I find that having two extra hands in my house to do my bidding is a good thing. I think you need to train Little Mew, not bump her off. Besides, you think digging in your cat litter ruins your carefully- gnawed manicure? Non, my little friend. Digging a six-foot-deep trench in the backyard in the middle of the night, THAT kills your manicure, baby. It also cuts into valuable nap time. I mean, gawd, if I don't sleep 22 hours a day, I'm a wreck. You may think that pile of clothes over there in the corner will hide the evidence, but eventually Big Mew would get over his grief long enough to do the laundry, and then you'd be in, how you say, the deep shit. No, the key is training. You can wear her down with sleep deprivation, then pull out all the Cute stops. You know the ones. The head tilt, the eyelid bat, the head butt. (That's head BUTT, not head BITE or butt bite. *HEAD BUTT*. Very endearing. Look it up.) The purr is also a very powerful weapon. Use it wisely. With a combo platter of cuteness, a sense of entitlement, a carefully orchestrated plan which includes sleep deprivation and sheer cunning, soon Other Mew will be putty in your puddytat paws. Trust me on this one, kid. I have a household of three Mews and they all jump to fulfill my every whim...as should be. Cordially yours,
Maxwell

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

OK Cal, let me tell you a little secret. When little mew stumbles around in the dark in the middle of the night don't go jumping all over her in a savage manner, no! You have to hide under something. Then when she walks past you stick your paw out and gently press it into her ankle. From what I understand little mew thinks someone is GRABBING her. My little mew grabs her chest and falls bakwards when I do this. Next, the secret of hiding little mew's inhaler.

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

Yo, Cal, why you frontin'? Why don't you just take your Glock and bust a cap in dey ass? BEEEEYTACH!!!!!

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

Yo, gees. Just wanted to correct my gangsta-ass spellin' up there. BEEEEEEYATCH! Das bettah. For real.

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

Hiyacalthisisemerson!

An my mommie lubs dat daddie purrson an I don' lubs him nope. So we iz inna same boat here yup! I tell mommie ebry morning dat dat daddie purrson hazta go--an I snuggle her an gibs her headbutts. An den dat daddie purrson wants ta snuggle me tu an I hisshisshiss at him.

Hissing iz gud. You must eat lotza garlicky fud an den hiss atta Little Mew. Dat will kill her gud. I iz working at dat daddie purrson tu.

Cuddles,

Emerson

-- Anonymous, May 26, 2000

Cal, buddy, old pal, Hate to tell you but Little Mew is only going to get worse. I know this for two reasons: 1) I am very smart. I am so smart I can operate computers and read which is how I know 2)Your Little Mew likes that song with a bunch of "bye"s in it. These boys that sing this song, Cal, they brainwash our mews. After my person (for I call her my person and not a mew) began liking this "bye" song, she became brainwashed. Cal, she spent my cat nip money (all year's worth) on tickets to see these boys jump around on stage! When she can see me jump around for free! She even began plotting to put me in a boy band, Cal. She changed my name to Big Matty Matt and she also began calling my friend who also lives here J Goldie Style instead of just Goldie. She made us little leather pants and tried to pierce our ears...dance lessons, Cal! She made us take dance lessons. I'm warning you, get out now! Fortunately, I started biting my person and she has straightened up, but your Little Mew does not sound like she can be so easily controlled. I know! Why don't you come live with us! It will be fun and you won't have to put up with that other Taylor. Your friend, Matt

-- Anonymous, May 30, 2000

Cal, I just wanted to tell you that you are a BAD cat for wanting to kill your Little Mew. She is very funny and brightens the days of lots of people. Good Pamie, BAD CAT. And, by the way, I am Matt's "person". I would not suggest coming here if you do try to escape Pamie because Matt is a dog. A dog. A bark. A big mean black lab who blames everything on *NSYNC. He just wants you to come here so he can chase you around the yard and bark at you and maybe even bite your tail off if you're not quick enough. Sincerely, Kathy

-- Anonymous, May 30, 2000

I need your help. My mother is not the problem. I mean, she IS a problem, but there are others more dire. I am a princess. She says so all the time. We used to live with this brainless grey cat, and then he went away, which was good. But she said "my princess needs company", and the next thing I know there's this orange idiot hanging around, jumping on me and playing with MY toys. Plus sucking up to her. We moved to this great apartment, where I can almost always be in a different room from him, and finally things are going my way. He doesn't like to be snuggled, and she likes to snuggle, especially if she's been drinking the yellow stuff from the can. I am once again the princess. And then!!! She comes in with the bad plastic box and I think it's a trip in the bouncy loud machine, but NO! It's worse! She opens the box and out comes The Others! We used to live with The Others a long time ago, when we had a big house and a yard and we could go outside. The Others are bigger and older than me and she keeps saying "Chickie is a pretty girl" and "Rumple is so cute" and hardly paying any attention to me and when I pooped on the floor in the bathroom and hid it under the bathmat she swore at me really loud! How do I regain the upper paw? I hate them all.

-- Anonymous, May 31, 2000

I'll tell you what you're gonna do, see? You wait until Mum and Dad are asleep after a long day and at precisely 4:15 AM, you pinch her, see? Then she'll YOWL, got it? Mum will grumble and get really mad especially because Dad never wakes up. He's one of those, whatcha call 'em, deep sleepers, see? Just keep pinching her and making her YOWL and then run back to the couch and start licking your tail, being the perfect little lady. D'ya catch my drift? Eventually, Mum will get so annoyed she'll chuck Poppadum--I mean, Little Mew--into the bathroom and shut the door on her. You dig? You gotta play the part, walk the walk, talk the talk and get that little one in their bad graces. Mum calls me Duchess because I act so delicate and mince around like I'm wearing pumps. They don't suspect a thing.

--Mica of Cambridge

-- Anonymous, June 01, 2000