New Digs, Same Cat (But Fat?)

This damn cat Hallie, she bets everyone stopped reading this old blog. She thought nobody would care about her after she moved to a new apartment. Well you know what Hallie? You're right. Nobody cares.

Wait a minute. Hallie, you're looking pretty fat these days. Is that because you've scratched your way into Nick's bottomless Take 5 collection? Or are there no stairs for you to run up and down 80 times a day for no reason?

(Sigh.) Hallie, the truth is, I don't get the same pleasure I used to out of making fun of your stupid face and fat body and racist comments and Nickelback albums. I know that we are two different creatures, spinning together on this crazy planet called Earth, and sure I'll out-live you by at least 60 years, probably more, because I'm super buff. But that doesn't mean I can't still deliver a hell of a eulogy at your funeral.

So Hallie, until you die, rest in peace. And stay away from my pasta dinner!

Special Delivery! Unconscious Cat

This damn cat Hallie, she almost fulfilled my dreams and killed herself this morning.

Fervent reader of This Damn Cat Anne, a friend from many adventures past, had to crash on our couch last night after Washington's fantastically flawless transit system stranded her in the swamp with no route back to the Big Apple. Anne immediately recognized Hallie from said blog and wasted no time in mocking her.

Anyway. Anne had to leave early to catch the train back to Gotham, like, before the sun rose. Roommate Nick reports that he stayed asleep on the first floor:

"But something woke/scared Hallie. All I heard was a sound like she fell down the stairs and hit the door. Then she went under my bed and didn't come out for two hours..."

Hallie, we almost barely knew ye.

Good job Anne!

Don't You Wish Your Kitten Was Hot. Like. Me.

Yet another guest post by Hallie

Most of my days are pretty dull. I wake up. I fall asleep. I wake up an hour later and rub my back on Nick's leg. I fall asleep while eating.

But some days -- well, some days are special.

I woke up a few weeks ago to the marvelous sensation that my gracious roommates bought me a new bed. They claim that they didn't buy me a new bed, that in fact it was Negrin's old mattress that he's selling on Craigslist because he got a new meowmory foam mattress. But I know when I'm being rewarded for good behavior, and this was a sure sign.

So the first thing I did to show my appreciation for the mattress on our living room floor was vomit all over it.

Then after Waite cleaned it up I slept on it every day, mostly during the day. So soft! But it was so close to the ground, which was unsettling. I prayed every day to Cat Jesus hoping that he would make it a little bit taller, just an inch or two here or there, so I could bathe in the inexplicable sensation that is being high above the ground.

THEN, MAGICALLY, ONE DAY, THE MATTRESS WAS UPRIGHT AGAINST THE WALL! CAT JESUS ANSWERED MY PRAYERS AND I CRIED MEOWLELUJAH.

But how was I supposed to get all the way up to the top? I'll tell you how, rhetorical voice in my brain. I climbed that motherfucker like Spiderman was being tased. At first I got only half-way up, and hung on for dear life, dangling from the edge of the magical mattress with my claws while the floor swung back and forth below me.

I fell.

But buoyed by the cheers and support from my friends*, I tried again -- and I made it all the way to the top! All 450 feet** of the way up!

And once I got there I celebrated by sleeping.

So nobody buy the mattress from Negrin on Craigslist because a) I vomited all over it and b) I keep it now.

* Editor's note: We are not her friends.

** Editor's note: Hallie does not have an accurate measurement of space or time.

sad

This damn cat Hallie

From Pawper to Fat Cat

This damn cat Hallie, it's about time she helped us out with the rent. The renting company that owns our community is putting on a YouTube competition, and we submitted the above video -- featuring our damn cat -- hoping to win over fans of this here blog.

Hallie did a surprisingly great job. Don't get cocky, cat.

If you like the video, please go to our YouTube page and "like" it for real by clicking "like," the way that all people like things in the new age:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVZtHwEH62I

If we win by getting the most "like"s, I promise that I will take suggestions for a super-duper blog post. And you can even be in it!

Hallie Challenges Hank to an Open Furum

This damn cat Hallie, she's got some competition.

After spending the weekend on her new shelf, Hallie has regained the confidence once sapped from her by her boring days the way my dinner is sapped from me by Hallie's gross mouth. The story about the shelf, by the way, is that Hallie is too stupid to know what not to climb on, so Nick took a piece of wood from my desk and nailed it two feet above our mantel so that Hallie would climb up on it instead of walking around behind the TV and stepping on shit.

Anyway. Hallie read today that there's a cat running for Senate. That cat is named Hank. And that damn cat Hank has been challenged to a debate.

To be clear, Hallie isn't running for Senate. Hallie isn't running for anything except for her life when I'm chasing her down the stairs with a cup of hot water. I think she's just grown tired of cracking snide comments about the hit NBC documentary drama "Whitney."

Even though she isn't running for office, she does have a campaign slogan: "We Are the 2 Percent." Get it, like the milk?

Now It's Personal

This damn cat Hallie, she's clawed her way to a tipping point. I apologize for not updating the blog over the past few days. I would have, but my hand has been unusable after Hallie had her way with it. Let me go through the atrocities Hallie has committed in just a week:

1. Scratched me on the hand. It hurt.

2. Scratched me on the inside of my forearm. It bled.

3. Jumped up behind the TV and shut the whole entertainment system down by turning the power off.

4. Threw up on the stairs.

Atrocity No. 2 was the most painful for me. Atrocity No. 3 was the worst for Nick. And Atrocity No. 4 was bad for everyone.

To pay Hallie back, I doused her with a cup of water last night. She got all wet and ran under Nick's bed whining like a little bitch. Nick was initially upset but REMEMBER ATROCITY NO. 3, NICK.

The sad news is that Hallie is growing up and she's growing up terribly. The stuff that used to be cute is now just annoying. It's time to bring to life the namesake of this blog's URL and rally public opinion in our favor. Please vote in our poll to the right.

My closing argument is a quote from Stephen Colbert: "I love kittens, and I will continue to do so until the moment they become cats."

I Have Not Received Your E-Meow

This damn cat Hallie, she's so evil that she's penetrated our subconscious. Last night, Nick the Roommate was sleeping soundly, and Hallie had to go and ruin it by slipping into his dreams.

The following is Nick's account of his dream involving me:

"You were talking to Hallie. Something like, 'Hallie, I got your email. I appreciate you not throwing up on the shoes.' But in REAL LIFE, she did throw up very close to the shoes. Before you left, though. Waite was up... haha."

Yes, "haha," everyone enjoy a good laugh at the expense of our shoes!

Don't Expect a Valentine From This Feline

This damn cat Hallie, she got all excited about Valentine's Day and peaked too early. By "excited" I mean that she ran around all last night and the night before knocking over things, and by "things" I mean mugs, and by "knocking over" I mean barnstorming into them in a berserk befitting of chimera all juiced up on steroids.

So now Nick's "Word Cup" mug is shattered, and Hallie doesn't care, because she doesn't use it anyway -- she drinks out of a damn bowl all day. Everything that Hallie doesn't use is a target. Mug: destroyed. Guitar strings: stripped. Christmas presents: opened. And torn up. Hearts: broken.

Happy Valentine's Day, you filthy animal.

The Critics Say: Read This Blog, Hate This Cat

This damn cat Hallie, she's been up to no good for two and a half months. And in recognition of our two-and-a-half-month anniversary, I'd like to officially unveil several prominent, real-life endorsements of This Damn Cat.

These endorsements have not been solicited in any way. They were purely spontaneous:

"After the latest entry, AOTA sees it fit to endorse this blog as well as Furman Cain's presidential bid." -- Andrew Waite, American Occupational Therapy Association, Frisbee Golf Semi-Pro

"We like the pictures." -- Nick Cammarota, Prince George's Gazette, Cat and Hat Owner

“This is the must-read blog for all things annoying and Hallie!” --- Stephanie Halligan, Financial Panther, Anonymous Commenter

“This blog helps the people of interested web-surfing communities in meeting their need for philosophical felines, helps promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of Hallie, and helps promote a better understanding of Hallie on the part of Americans.” -- Emily Varanay, Peace Corps Volunteer, Portuguese Learner

“I am a big fan of ‘Kill Hallie.’ There's nothing more exciting than news of a new blog post, which is always a guaranteed laugh. Short and to the point, Matt shares a look at life with this lazy, conniving furball. Everyone will surely enjoy tales of Hallie's entitled sass, failed attempts to escape, and evil plots to take out her owner's roommates. Or at least check it out for the hilarious photos.” -- Kathleen Newbould, Crohn's & Colitis Foundation of America, Owner of a Better Pet

“GSA cannot show to be in support of, or supporting the demise of, any household pets, insects or entities (see article 10.3.5.7.123456789 of the Constitution).” -- Jon Rubin, General Services Administration, Monster Truck Historian

Hallie Gets Pawlitical

This damn cat Hallie, she's been watching a lot of news lately. Mostly she's been tuned into politics, and because Virginia hasn't voted in the Republican primary yet, Hallie is talking left and right (mostly right) about which candidate she wants to support for president.

So far she's narrowed it down to Meowt Gingrich, Kitten Romney, Ron Paw and Furman Cain.

Hallie likes Meowt's open-pet-ownership policy, but she's not crazy about his cats-on-the-moon plan. Hallie says she's a confurvative voter, and that's why she's skeptical of Kitten, and his universal cat-nip program in Massachusetts. And the only reason she likes Paw and Furman is because she thinks that if they were president that she would have a shot at being the secretary of the Department of Health and Hairball Services.

Can't Wait for My Super Bowl!

Another guest post by Hallie

Today is a great day and do you know why it's because first of all Negrin and Waite are coming back from their separate vacations and secondly because everyone for weeks has been talking about this Super Bowl and the Super Bowl party that my great friend Nick is going to throw and although I'm not entirely sure what it means I'm pretty sure that it means I'm going to be getting a new bowl for my food which is good because my current bowl is so old and Nick won't replace it because he thinks it's just fine but let me ask you something Nick how do you know it's fine do you eat out of it everyday I didn't think so but I have to eat out of it every day often twice a day and have you ever tried to eat food from the same bowl twice a day every day for however long I've been alive like a year and a half or something well if you have then you probably deserve a new bowl and that bowl better be pretty damn super.

Who Needs a Vacation?

This damn cat Hallie, you can always tell when she's jealous, because she'll start meowing a lot. I guess she does that all the time for everything, but still, she's always jealous, and she always meows, so, ipso facto, am I right?????

This week Hallie is jealous because Negrin and Waite are leaving for the weekend and she has to stick around while Nick feeds her. It's a good thing that Nick HAS THAT NEW HAT I GOT HIM so he can pretend he's someone else and Hallie will get confused and not beg him for food.

I caught Hallie on expedia.com the other day looking up flights to the Indian subcontinent. What an obscure place to want to go, Hallie! What's over there? With whom would you stay? What would you eat? They don't sell your brand of pellets in New Delhi. Probably.

You're not going anywhere. Stick around for the Super Bowl so you can root for your dumb Catriots.

What the Dickens?! Hibernation's Over

This damn cat Hallie, welcome back you damn cat.

A lot of you have been asking why the blog hasn't been updated lately. Really, a lot of you have. Thank you. I enjoyed being asked this. Thank you.

The answer is one of the following choices:

1. Hallie fell asleep on Christmas and didn't wake up until last night.

2. Hallie fell asleep on Christmas, woke up the next day in a cage at the vet and went into a sadness-induced coma.

3. Hallie has been throwing up so much that I've been boycotting (boycatting?) the notion of giving her any attention.

4. Hallie isn't really all that interesting when you think about it.

5. Hallie is actually very interesting, so interesting that it's impossible to stay focused while writing about her because she's so interesting.

6. Hahaha yeah right.

7. Hallie joined an alternative rock band in Takoma Park and hasn't been seen since New Year's Eve, when the Aristo-Cats had their first show.

8. All of the above.

9. We finally ate her.

Anyway, a new year means new change, except in Hallie's case. She'll be doing the same stupid stuff she's been doing for however long she's been alive, because she has no aspirations or life goals. If she were a character in The Sims, her bar would be dark red, and she would spend all day breaking the dishwasher and ordering pizza with the money we don't have because Hallie spent it all on a pink electric guitar that she can't even play. I've seen her try to play my guitar. She sounds like The White Stripes. That was before she joined the Aristo-Cats, though.

I should also mention that we will finally be giving Hallie the Cat Mitzvah she doesn't deserve at some point in February. My roommates don't know about this yet so don't say anything.

Owwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!

A guest post by Hallie

Tonight Negrin and Waite came home from wherever they were and as soon as I saw them coming to the front door I ran to the part of the entrance where I normally sit so I could get a good vantage point and then BOOM! I bolted for the opening because I really like it outside and I never get to go and they always say I can't go outside but then Negrin didn't see me for some reason and he STEPPED ON MY FACE and I SCREAMED so loud that it scared Negrin and Waite and even me and I ran up the stairs it hurt so bad and then Negrin and Waite were laughing at me and I felt even more scared and then I decided to curl up and take a nap.

I Don't Like This Show Let's Watch Something Else

This damn cat Hallie, no matter how many blockades we put up in our house, she'll find a way to crawl behind the television and knock over the mini baseball helmets and bobbleheads or whatever that I've put up there. Sometimes Hallie will watch TV with us, but by that I mean she'll make sarcastic comments while we're watching the hit NBC sitcom "Whitney."

"This show is hilarious," Hallie purred Thursday evening, dryly.

No one cares what you think about "Whitney," Hallie. I can't believe we even were watching that show anyway. Twenty-one minutes of darkness and silence like that one episode of "Rocko's Modern Life" would be funnier than "Whitney." Eating a bagel is funnier than "Whitney." Getting scratched by Hallie is actually funnier than "Whitney."

Actually the boyfriend in "Whitney" reminds me of my old roommate Andreas, a guy who would cheat at every board game and whom we pranked so hard our senior year in college by making him write a four-page paper about the European Enlightenment that we sort of invented by pretending to be his professor through a fake Gmail address.

That was way funnier than "Whitney."

An Untenable Antenna Antagonist

This damn cat Hallie, she doesn't really understand what television is, so it would be stupid to think she understands what an antenna is. Actually probably most people these days don't know what an antenna is what with all the wireless technologies. But old people do.

Anyway, we're pretty frugal over at Catlin Lane and decided to stop paying our cable bill (well, I decided to stop paying the cable bill) (and other bills) and we bought a weird antenna that has the wingspan of a small pterodactyl and hooked it up to the tele so we can get some channels. We get NBC, CBS, ABC and Al Jazeera English.

By get some channels I mean that we can watch them when the damn cat Hallie isn't prancing around interfering with the signal. Which she does. A lot.

Stop it, cat. I want to watch my Al Jazeera.

I Should Have Used This Picture for the Cat-in-the-Box Post

This damn cat Hallie. Those Mini Wheats are not for you!

I Will Not Play With You in a Box; I Will Not Play With You With a Fox

Ahh! This damn cat Hallie, she has so many diseases that there aren't enough names in the Oxford English dictionary to describe her. Whatever the opposite of claustrophobia is, she has it. If you ever come over to our house, do not bring an empty box.

Here's why: Hallie will get into that box. It doesn't matter what kind of box. It doesn't matter the size of said box. The box is no longer yours. It belongs to the cat. If you stand it up so that the open end is two feet off the ground, Hallie will tip it over with her stupid face and then scurry inside like a raccoon by a dumpster behind Chili's on one-dollar sliders night. Do they have sliders at Chili's? I've never been.

Also, bags. Hallie loves bags. She loves climbing in them and ruining them so much that the joke "the cat's out of the bag" isn't funny anymore. Because it's not true. The cat isn't out of the bag.

It's in the bag!!

No, Don't Get Up, You're Fine

This damn cat Hallie, sometimes she'll go hours without moving. And not while sleeping -- fully awake, just sitting in the same damn spot on the floor, or the table (?), or the couch. Here's what she does while sitting in the same spot: stare at something for a while, turn her head and stare at something else for a while, turn her head back to the first thing and stare at that for a while, lick herself, stare at the second thing. And repeat.

The only things that will get Hallie up are the sound of food pouring into a bowl and a toy fish dangling in front of her face. She's so lazy that instead of jumping up to play with the toy as she sometimes does, she'll just lift her paw two inches toward it as if she's pretending to be entertained, mocking the world as it turns all around her.

I like to play a different game with Hallie. I call it "Stationary Objects." I'll pick a stationary object in the room -- like the leg lamp that's part of our Christmas decorations -- and see if it will move before Hallie does. Usually the game never ends.