Notes From Cat History
Out of sheer sleep-dep induced insanity, I've been amusing myself on kittenbreak by captioning the pictures with footnotes from Cat History, courtesy of Fish, who tells me these things.
I will continue to do this over there, but I'm going to update here each Friday with the pictures and text so that when the links expire, I won't lose them.
Notes From Cat History: Theophrastus, Eater of Heads
We can see here "Webo the Mighty" practicing the Look of Total Innocence, as perfected by Theophrastus Von Berlingen Phlox Fishlicker III, court cat to Queen Isobelle the Deranged of Ruritania.
All claims to the contrary aside, at the time of the death of Isobelle's favorite cat in 1531, the area of garden he had favored and which was chosen for his cenotaph was found to contain the buried remains of over 40 parrots, parroquets, lories, and budgies, all in an advanced state of headlessness.
His culpability in the ongoing case of Ruritanian royalty's vanishing avifauna was thus irrevocably proven. Theophrastus, or Phrast, was thereafter called "The Eater of Heads." Many are his scions, some of whom doubtless survive in our households into the present day.
Notes From Cat History: The Death of the Marquise de Frottage.
In 1809 the Marquise de Frottage received in the mail a small package she believed to have been sent to her by her lover. She retired with it to the conservatory, there to open it in private.
Moments later her household staff were horrified to hear a resounding shriek echoing from her vicinity, and rushed to the scene only to discover the Marquise lying dead upon the floor. In the package was a basket which contained two kittens.
They were not, as misled members of society later asserted, assassin cats trained in far Taipei, but were merely small cats of the ordinary Parisian variety, hand-picked by the Marquise's rival, the Duchess of Beverast. Their extraordinary power lay in the most innate characteristic of kittens: their cuteness. Hand-selected for the greatest adorability, these kittens, when combined, possessed such cuteness that the full force of it was sufficent to kill the Marquise, and knock her clean out of her slippers while doing so. Only the practicality of the serving-maid, Juliet, saved the servants rushing to their mistress' aid. Squinting, she caught the kittens up tight in her skirt before they could do more than stun the others. The Marquise, sadly, could not be revived.
This heinous crime might have gone avenged had the kittens themselves not escaped from the preventive confines of the root cellar and together romped toward the dayroom where the Marquise's unfortunately widowed and exquisitely handsome husband stood receiving the tender condolences of the Duchess herself. As his back was to the door, he survived the force of the blow with little more than a permanent stutter, but the Duchess herself, peering over his shoulder (he was an uncommonly short man), chanced to see the kittens tumbling end over end through the hallway while battling a stray glove, and stricken with remorse, gasped out a hasty confession, after which she fell stone dead on the spot.
The Black Duchess' revenge upon her nemesis was complete, but at great cost.
The kittens were kept confined until their cuteness was no longer lethal, after which they remained as companions to the widower.
It began a tradition, however, and Parisians still send each other baskets of kittens on the 9th of August, in apology for wrongs done.
Notes From Cat History: Porpentine Crabbe Blavatsky
It is a little-known fact that Madame Blavatsky's cat, Porpentine Crabbe, was quite adept at the art of spirit photography, imprinting film with psychically-produced images. Porpentine was, furthermore, a narcissist, having been informed during a seance that he possessed one-third of the soul of Casanova, half the soul of Don Juan, one fourth of Paris, fully half of Cleopatra, and three-eights of an exceedingly vain and busty but historically insignificant gypsy girl in the vicinity of the Karlova/Margoth border. This extraordinary excess of soul is now thought to be the source of his strange and ill-understood powers.
Convinced of his beauty, Porpentine never let an opportunity to project it onto film slip by him. Famous for his brooding good looks even into his twenty-first year, Porpentine left behind him a strange legacy of beauty made tragic by his kittenhood neutering.
I will continue to do this over there, but I'm going to update here each Friday with the pictures and text so that when the links expire, I won't lose them.
Notes From Cat History: Theophrastus, Eater of Heads
We can see here "Webo the Mighty" practicing the Look of Total Innocence, as perfected by Theophrastus Von Berlingen Phlox Fishlicker III, court cat to Queen Isobelle the Deranged of Ruritania.
All claims to the contrary aside, at the time of the death of Isobelle's favorite cat in 1531, the area of garden he had favored and which was chosen for his cenotaph was found to contain the buried remains of over 40 parrots, parroquets, lories, and budgies, all in an advanced state of headlessness.
His culpability in the ongoing case of Ruritanian royalty's vanishing avifauna was thus irrevocably proven. Theophrastus, or Phrast, was thereafter called "The Eater of Heads." Many are his scions, some of whom doubtless survive in our households into the present day.
Notes From Cat History: The Death of the Marquise de Frottage.
In 1809 the Marquise de Frottage received in the mail a small package she believed to have been sent to her by her lover. She retired with it to the conservatory, there to open it in private.
Moments later her household staff were horrified to hear a resounding shriek echoing from her vicinity, and rushed to the scene only to discover the Marquise lying dead upon the floor. In the package was a basket which contained two kittens.
They were not, as misled members of society later asserted, assassin cats trained in far Taipei, but were merely small cats of the ordinary Parisian variety, hand-picked by the Marquise's rival, the Duchess of Beverast. Their extraordinary power lay in the most innate characteristic of kittens: their cuteness. Hand-selected for the greatest adorability, these kittens, when combined, possessed such cuteness that the full force of it was sufficent to kill the Marquise, and knock her clean out of her slippers while doing so. Only the practicality of the serving-maid, Juliet, saved the servants rushing to their mistress' aid. Squinting, she caught the kittens up tight in her skirt before they could do more than stun the others. The Marquise, sadly, could not be revived.
This heinous crime might have gone avenged had the kittens themselves not escaped from the preventive confines of the root cellar and together romped toward the dayroom where the Marquise's unfortunately widowed and exquisitely handsome husband stood receiving the tender condolences of the Duchess herself. As his back was to the door, he survived the force of the blow with little more than a permanent stutter, but the Duchess herself, peering over his shoulder (he was an uncommonly short man), chanced to see the kittens tumbling end over end through the hallway while battling a stray glove, and stricken with remorse, gasped out a hasty confession, after which she fell stone dead on the spot.
The Black Duchess' revenge upon her nemesis was complete, but at great cost.
The kittens were kept confined until their cuteness was no longer lethal, after which they remained as companions to the widower.
It began a tradition, however, and Parisians still send each other baskets of kittens on the 9th of August, in apology for wrongs done.
Notes From Cat History: Porpentine Crabbe Blavatsky
It is a little-known fact that Madame Blavatsky's cat, Porpentine Crabbe, was quite adept at the art of spirit photography, imprinting film with psychically-produced images. Porpentine was, furthermore, a narcissist, having been informed during a seance that he possessed one-third of the soul of Casanova, half the soul of Don Juan, one fourth of Paris, fully half of Cleopatra, and three-eights of an exceedingly vain and busty but historically insignificant gypsy girl in the vicinity of the Karlova/Margoth border. This extraordinary excess of soul is now thought to be the source of his strange and ill-understood powers.
Convinced of his beauty, Porpentine never let an opportunity to project it onto film slip by him. Famous for his brooding good looks even into his twenty-first year, Porpentine left behind him a strange legacy of beauty made tragic by his kittenhood neutering.