All my pets (and some of my dolls) have a theme song. It might sound crazy, but not so much coming from someone who pictures inanimate objects wearing Converse sneakers and doing little dances.

Bettie's theme song is "Tiger Feet" from Mud, because when she was a kitten, she had big, floppy tiger feet.

Cleo's was "Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth" from the Dandy Warhols, because Thierry and I used to sing it to her (we had changed the lyrics to "Poupinette is so passé", Poupinette being one of her nicknames) while patting her head and she usually stood there, transfixed.

Armand's theme song is "Jacky", the Marc Almond version, because he's handsome and dumb. It can also be "Sexy Boy" from Air.

Eloise Chihuahua already has a song, it's "Eloise", of course, the Damned version.

Abba has a theme song, even though she isn't my pet and it's "Chihuahua" by DJ Bobo, because Abba needs an energetic song to match her temper !

If an ambulance and two strong male nurses come ring my door soon, I wouldn't be *that* surprises now...
Blythou out.

I miss the multi-racial dolls I played with as a kid. They were some generic dolls bought from a mail order catalogue by my grandmother. There were two blonde kids (a boy & a girl), two black kids and two Asian kids. I loved them so much even though they didn't have any spare clothing or accessories. I used to make them do races and made sure that every different group of kids won equally. They're long gone now and I've never seen any at a garage sale. POOP.

I don't like Mario Kart. It's not violent enough for my taste. I'd love a little blood and some bent fenders here and there. And no, I don't like "realistic" video games (well, I LOVE all FPS types of games, but I get so addicted to them, i.e. can play for 5-6 hours, that they're banned from the house). Thierry thinks I should try harder to play Mario Kart. He's probably right. I give up too easily sometimes. Always wanting to be the best at everything (including a supposedly relaxing thing) is exhausting.

It's been 4 years since our cat Cleo died. And yesterday, I forgot it was Armand's 4th b-day. I'll make it him up to him by getting him some fresh chicken today...

blythou out.

Bettie & Armand are very busy looking drop dead cute today.



Blythou out.

A major storm woke me at 4 am.

Then, around 5 or 6 am, Nekko started to play and chase Armand all over our bedroom and Bettie joined the fun by emptying my paper bin.

Nekko and Armand have become best buddies. Armand cleans the baby, they sleep together, it's all very cute... Except that Nekko's hyperactive and spends most of his time jumping all over the place. If I lock him up somewhere because I want 5 minutes of peace, he meows until I want to turn him into cat roast.

Nekko has managed to exhaust me more than two or three of my bosses combined.

Nice feat, baby !
Blythou out.

We have *another* houseguest. This time, it's 5 month-old Nekko, my friend Adeline's kitten.

Nekko's very active, very sweet and doesn't give a toss about anything.

You yell at him ? He looks back at you and tries his best kitten cute look.

Bettie growls at him and mimics an pneumatic drill in order to scare his stripey pants off him ? He follows her adoringly and tries to sniff her butt.

Armand growls at him ? He chases him and sits next to him and sticks like kitten glue.

He's already managed to become Armand's buddy, irritate us, flood our lobby with his bowl of water, jump on every surface, leave wet paw prints everywhere after a few trips in the tub, etc.

Why, oh why, do I still find him irresistible ? And why, oh why, do I enjoy pet-sitting so much despite all the annoyances ?

Blythou out.

This belated Valentine's Day card is for :

- Leah/Buenagirl who ripped her heart to put it up on my LJ page
- Natasha, Posie's kitty, who happens to be Armand's love interest
- Abba, Armand's play buddy, so she recovers swiftly
- Pam/Tikistitch who thinks it's cool to have a cat who looks like and behaves like 625

- Kijo, the latest member of the LJ pets gang
- The members of Armand's fan-club (I know who you are, even though I can't understand how you can love a farting fluffball)


Blythou out.

Since getting a pro Flick'r account, I've been uploading some old (and usually silly) photos. This is a perfect example of what's usually going on at Rude Manor where animals are subjected to all kinds of sadist & degrading behaviour.

And I mean, even when Tibiloo, Queen of Sadism Against Animals, isn't around.

Blythou out.

Dear pets,

Could you, pretty please with chicken on top, stop making my life so hellish ?

I can understand your need to rush around and chase each other while making all sorts of weird noises : you only want to liven up the place while I'm trying to work. But why do you have to dive in the water bowl ? Ok, Armand, your fluffy underpaws make you slide across the floor, but you should be aware of that factor by now. And Abba, yes, I'm talking to you, missy, is it necessary to splash in the water in order to turn my corridor into a disaster zone ?

Then, would it be possible to NOT knock my wastebasket while playing and, in case you inadventently do so, I'd love it if you could try to NOT spread its contents all over the office floor ? While you are at it, my cell phone is NOT a toy. And when I've plugged it, it means I want it recharged, so do NOT unplug it while chasing each other. I know, I know, I repeat myself.

Oh, and lastly, Abba, my sweetie, could you please stop playing with poop ? Why do you insist on chewing on Armand's doo-doo while I feed you nice dog food ? And if you really want to chew on poop, at least, do it when I'm not eating.

If you really want to do all the above, I'll understand. After all, I've declined to buy you a wii (they were sold out, I told you) and I probably don't give you enough pocket money. But if you could do all this on separate days instead of in a couple of hours span, that'd be fine.

Thanks for your attention.

Blythou out.

Sorry if I haven't commented on anyone's LJ recently, but I'm crazily busy right now. Let me sum it up for you :

- Went to an interview + a gig in Rouen yesterday & came back today around noon
- The PR girl who was with me fractured something in her foot & I went to buy her crutches first thing this morning and helped her get on the train, then on a cab. She was in pain and wincing each time her foot merely grazed the ground.
- Arrived home, wrote my article, e-mailed it right away, snacked on an apple and yogurt then took Abba for a walk.
- Cleaned the mess after Armand & Abba engaged in a lovely and smelly game of poop soccer with an old piece of dried-up poop they dug up from the bottom of the litter box. Those two sweeties intend to kill me by using every chemical weapon available to them, I swear.

And instead of writing all this, I should be writing a 6000 word piece and polishing off another one. And go buy a present for the 18th birthday of my editor-in-chief's daughter.

Oh, and BTW, I slept only 3-4 hours last night, because the TV in my hotel room woke me up in the middle of the night and I couldn't sleep properly after that.

YAWN

Blythou out.

Did I mention the fact that tiny, cute, adorable, super sweet, playful Abba is a farting machine ? And today, Armand and her improvised a little farting contest in my office ?

They're getting along fine and they love chasing each other around. I suspect they're propelled by their own gaz.

Blythou out.

Tibiloo's left this morning after two days of shopping, dolly-fun (Tibi took care of two of my KBs), drinking & puppy-teaching. She was sad to leave Abba, but I hope she knows her pup-pup will be well loved and cared for while she's away.

I've taken Abba for her first walk on our own. She did her pee-pee twice. We made a little visit to my friend Melissa who works at V2 round the corner. Abba got petted, kissed and admired. Then on our way back, she took a great big poopoo and happily came home to chase Armand who's lazing around.

Bettie's no longer hostile, she's just curious and tries to sniff the newcomer who's stealing her mom's attention.

I'll take photos later. Right now, it's work-work-work... with a puplette on my lap and the two cats playing with the toy Tibi got them around my desk.

Blythou out.

It's dark and rainy outside. It's cold inside.

My boss has rescheduled our bi-monthly meeting at the last minute so I had to cancel and reschedule an interview.

Armand has decided that today is "spread as much litter on the floor as possible and then sit in the freshly cleaned bathroom sink to leave as many marks as you can" day.

I'm more and more fed up with my job. I hardly ever get to do anything remotely exciting these days. I could write 99% of my articles in my sleep. I REALLY need a break or a change and more work, before I blow a fuse.

I'm not depressed. But I'm not happy either. I'm just bored beyond my wits.

BLAH.

blythou out.

Armand has done it AGAIN !

When Thierry got home 5 minutes ago, he noticed some suspicious brown traces in the lobby and the corridor... Armand has once again left his sandbox with poopy stuck to his patookie. And he tried to clean his fluffy butt by rubbing it all over the floor.

And I mean ALL OVER. And people wonder why we chose plastic floor for the lobby & corridor ! With Armand, it was that or live in a poopy-smelly house.

So right now, Thierry is cleaning the floor and as soon as he's done, we'll do "mission wipe-ass" on our fluffy boy.

Oh, and when Armand doesn't fart, creates intricate poop patterns on the floor, plays in the tub (& leaves paw marks all over it and on the bathroom floor), he sometimes plays "poop soccer" with, guess what...

He's probably the dirtiest kitty around. The cutest, too. But that's another matter.

Blythou out.

I haven't posted a pic of the furry kids in a while. Here they are, as busy as Titus their best bunny buddy.

The chair they're sleeping on is my desk chair. They're usually outraged when I dare claim it in order to, erm, work. I have to explain them that mommy needs to use the computer, in order to earn money to buy them expensive vet food & toys.

Armand usually complies. Bettie too, after growling at me. And when I complain about her bad temper, she usually talks back, letting me know she takes after me. *Le sigh*

Blythou out.

Armand is back from the vet ! He's got a hemorrhaging bladder infection, it sounds pretty bad but it's nothing a few antibiotics won't take care of. Apparently, there are more and more young cats suffering from this and my vet suspects it's caused by crappy industrial food. I've always fed them a mix of expensive and generic cat food, but it's all the same nasty shit, so starting from now, it'll be only vet approved food and the occasional fresh chicken or tuna fish (also approved by the vet, I've checked with him).

Our baby is a bit weak in the knees and looks like he's hit the bong a little too hard. And as usual, I was beaming when the vet told me how cute and sweet he's been. But even though he's exhausted, Armand would like to thank his fans for their concerns and promises he'll soon shoot a new movie.

Blythou out.