Not without whipped cream.
Just don’t spray it on your hair.
RGRGR … ZUJ … K
Roger Roger. Stand By. Over.
No, I’m not a cat.
No, I haven’t heard back from him.
Actually, they gave me the wrong prescription. They gave me a refill of the med I’ve been using, instead of the new one the doctor had called in. I’ll have to check with them tomorrow.
That almost sounds reasonable – ask me again tomorrow.
Well, I finally got it. Not exactly an album of her greatest hits. It’s listenable, but really nothing memorable.
I am not a cat either, Your Honor. At least, I don’t think so…
Ok, then, I want you to itemize all the animals you are not. Then we can figure out exactly what you are.
I’ll tentatively accept your claim that you are not a cat, but you’ll need to provide a DNA sample so we can make sure.
Your Honour, there’s only one answer to that question, and that answer is, “Meow.”
Your Honour, there’s another answer to that question, and that answer is, “Purr.”
No, your honour, at no time did my client hiss.
Your honour, the reason I’m asking for a recess is to use the litter box and lick my ass.
Let the record reflect opposing counsel is playing adorably with a ball of yarn.
Your Honor, let it be known that I’m not a pussy.
I spoke with him yesterday. He’s out of the hospital, and back home, but it will be a while before he can get back to work.
Thanks for the invite, but I really don’t swing that way.
Yes, Your Majesty. At two o’clock.