What the fuck is up with dogs?

Seriously, I'm starting to think that it's not cool to have Mr. Cat. Like everyone getting press this week has dogs. First it was Brit bought that $4000 carpet crapper, then Michael Vick (whoever he is) had like illegal dogs and now that other black guy has murder dogs. Or I guess they are saying the dogs aren't murderers, they are just hungry. Like feed your pets people! Right this very minute, me and Mr. Cat are hiding in my closet. It used to be a guest room, but I turned it into my closet after I watched a couple of episodes of Cribs. Anyway, we've been here all day. Hiding from Monte. I know for awhile I was thinking he was ok, but I think he had washed my brain or whatever.

Oh! I'm so excited, that bitch Erica finally called me back and I'm getting my hair done tomorrow. I need those extensions back in. I am not cute like this. Anyway, I can't wait to be awesome again. What was I talking about? Oh yes, pets. So Mr. Cat is eating some Godiva chocolates that Alex Baldwin sent me with a letter. Like I think he's the guy that screams at his daughter on TV or maybe that was TMZ.com. Whatever. Anyway, I am a responsible pet owner because I would not let Mr. Cat go without food, like I think that black guy's black guy did. I don't understand why a black person would want another black person working for them. I mean, almost everyone I hire is from somewhere else. Katrinka is from Russia or something. Gus is black. Lupe was a Mexican or something. Even Knute was from Seattle! Harvey my driver is from UK. I mean, that makes me all international or whatever and so that makes me more awesome. Like what if everyone I hired was born in Switzerland to a former starlet mother and a Daddy who owns like everything? That would be so boring. I mean, even though Katrinka and Lupe used to fight, it was super-diplomacy that was awesome when they got along. Which really, now that I think about it, it's pretty good that Lupe died from that spinach because I got so damn sick of all the yelling. They never got along.

So anyway, Mr. Cat is all full of chocolate and is sleeping. I hope he doesn't get pregnant again because all his kittens are roaming all over the Compound. Like that Hemmingway dude. Except he gave all his cats extra toes. I wonder how he did that? If you know, you should tell me because now I think I'm going to be up all night worrying about that fat guy getting extra toes on his cats. Anyway, my cat is definitely NOT going to kill me or eat me. Although I am seriously ready to peek out the door and see if Monte has gone home yet. I wish Rhett would come home and run him off. I'm too scared to tell him to leave.