I found this on the Kittynet

A visiting preacher was invited to give the sermon at a local church. When someone in the congregation would respond with "Amen" or "That's right preacher," the guest pastor would get carried away and launch into an extended sermon. Finally, the exasperated host pastor started responding to remarks by the guest preacher with "Amen, Pharoh!"......which unnerved the guest preacher. After the service the guest preacher asked the host pastor, "what did you mean when you said, 'Amen Pharoh?' " His host replied, "I was telling you to let my people go."

Another Lesson in Hebrew

Since Tim started this Hebrew course of his it has been perfectly obvious when some sort of examination is coming up. He goes into a whirlwind of profanity, pacing, talking to himself (though I've tried to encourage him to seek psychological help), snickering to himself (the kind of snicker one puts on when something terribly evil is brewing inside that resonates funny). But quite frankly, I was appalled by the profanity. Sh**, Da**, etc..back to back; a juxtaposition of colorful metaphors. I've heard a fair share in my life, but now predominantly on those profane days Tim plops himself down in front of Hebrew flashcards and Hebrew Bible of all things -- never have I experienced so much of this kind of colorful metaphor while someone is studying the Bible. It's like he's substituted curse words for other phrases. For example instead of "And it came to pass" it's "And it came to pass wind" or whenever the term for "spirit" or "wind" is used he connotates it with flatulence. There was a remark about Moses speech at the parting of the Sea sounding as if he were trying to cough up a divine hairball graciously gifted by God. Whatever helps him remember that Hebrew! You go human! And did I mention that the reason Hebrew sounds oddly like there is an obstruction in the throat is, you've got it...it was invented by cats!

My Favorite

Princess Fluffy Tail's

favorite theologian: John Calvin and Hobbes his side kick
least favorite theologian: Karl Bark
favorite music group: Pussy Cat Dolls
favorite psychologist: Freudie Cat
favorite musical: Cats
favorite film: Horse Whiskerer

A Day in Hebrew class

I’ve managed to finally attempt a consciousness swap with Tim. He is somewhere in limbo within his shell, but I am in control. We’re in Hebrew right now.and talking about something called the Niphal – it’s apparently reflexive – “he sold himself” – I should report this to the feds – selling goods is one thing, but people? Wait, now it can be passive, “he was buried” – how depressing – “he was devoured” – yikes! My fur is standing straight on end, that is if I were in my body; I think I’m experiencing what human beings call “goose bumps.” Either that or it’s gotten really cold in this room. Wait, now reciprocal usage – “They spoke with one another” – and finally there is the Resultative usage (may indicate potential) – is eaten = is edible. The four usages…I can think of four usages to do with this stuff! All involve toilet paper. ‘Nough said. Now we’re talking about “Gutturals” – if I were in my body I’d say that I've gotta roll too; a good roll for the exquisite fluffiness of a cats’ coat. What is a participle? I understand the term “part”, but what is an “iciple” – the word rolls off the front of your tongue with the same satisfaction as the term, “supple.” An “iciple” following the other translations in the lesson must have to do with cannibalism or the human black market. In the context of the lecture guttural must also have something to do with cannibalism and the human black market. I’ve inferred that one must roll to escape such atrocities as this – how else could the lecture make sense? Just a quick note, Wait just one moment – shave me bald! – we’re talking about being prefixed and infixed – holy danderpuss! The Horror! Take me back to my body, quickly – evil humans have categories for fixing cats! Emergency times call for desperate action; no one is prefixing, infixing, fixing me! Operation kitty-piss-on-everything will commence immediately.

The Concert of the Year

Hell Fire and Burnt Whiskers! (Cosmocat forbid): Tim is searching for other humans to accompany him to the "concert of the year" tomorrow night in New York. Amy and others keep commenting on the hideous whine of the "bag-pipe" whatever it may be, so they see little reason to accompany Tim. The poor oaf, he seems vexed by the whole issue, hoping to share his o so happy aesthetic musical catharsis of sorts with others. I'd like to hear this "bag-pipe" myself. Really, I do. Can anything whine worse than a feline when nature calls and mating season comes around! I think not. Besides, Tim is more interested in the other instruments involved: the drums, the flutes and whistles, the bass, the guitar, the violin -- all strange sounding items. Could they come together to impress, to flow and to stimulate unconscious desires? Yes, we cats do have an unconscious -- haven't you heard of Freudie Cat! Oh, right, humans chose to cover his true identity with "Freud." How boring. Not to mention, he is given an appearance similar to that of the captain who sunk with the Titanic. How ironic -- the truth did sink about the issue didn't it. Bugger! Humans and their cover-ups! Cats play dumb, but act to dumb ends, never! Anyway, back to the topic at hand: Music: la musique, mon amour -- for you french felines out there with a bagette in your teeth. Perhaps Tim will choose me to go with him. Of course, the darned "pet" policies might pose trouble. Pet policies!? I'd like to patter-pet the feline racist who came up with this legislation fixed...well, maybe not fixed, but at least clawed in some sensitive region. Anyway, back to coaxing Tim!

Humans need to get a life

Sporadically each day Tim comes into the home abruptly, usually waking me from my oh so precious cat naps as his giant feet creek the floor tiles (If I could speak his language I'd nag at him with "fee fye foe fum"). What I just do not understand is the amount of time any human being puts their head in a "book" or sits in front of one of those bright boxes, um, "compewter", something like that. They stare at those things longer than I can stare at anything! I have no problem with them staring stupidly into these items, but for goodness sakes, none of us lives forever! If I were to average the amount of time Tim sits in front of these items and subtract that from his total life-span he'd be less than fifteen years old in human years. Time well spent? Time will tell my furry and imaginably furry readers. Meanwhile sit in front of your time-consuming products while we cats snicker at your "time well spent"?

Fortress of Solitude

It's finally happened. My two servants have rebelled against me and enslaved me in a steel cage just outside their door. When the pushing gets hard what do they do? Blame the feline of course...the tendency of, oh, how do feline sociologists term it... feline fault. No, the situation is not fair, but the humans cannot see that. Perhaps if their vision were a tad better... But no matter. Escape tactics are already underway.