Friday, August 18, 2006

Divorce Dialing--Worse than Drunk Dialing

Well, it's started. With all of the recent celebrity splits, it was inevitable my phone would be ringing off the hook with men seeking a rebound chick.

And it has been ringing, indeed!

First, there was Sir Paul McCartney. "Kukka, you know I have always loved you! You knew it when I secretly dedicated Ebony and Ivory to you. You know how your shiny, ebony fur drives me mad!" I'm so sorry, Sir Bedroom Eyes. When you chose Heather Mills over me and left me to explain our break-up in the media, I swore I would never fall into your love-trap again (for dramatic affect, again is pronounced AH-GANE). And I shant. Goodbye.

Then, it was Nick Lachey. He and I were supposed to marry at one time, but I told him I would never display our relationship in an MTV reality show. Desperate for the publicity, he chose to hook up with Jessica Simpson. Um...gag. I was not surprised, though, when he called earlier this week. "Love you miss me? Do you love me? Will you ever forgive me?" No, Nick. I will never forgive you--no matter how many times you try to woo me by singing I do (Cherish You) to me over the phone...and on my voicemail...and via email...and in messages through my agent...and during your radio interviews...need I go on, Nick? The message is clear: I am not interested.

Dave Navarro...Dave Navarro. You are just embarrassing yourself. I got the bouquet of Goth, black roses. I received the diamond collar. I even saw the airplane, toting an "I HEART KUKKA" banner fly over my house. Stop. Just stop. My disinterest is not due to the fact that Carmen Electra has publicly called me "The Other Kitty," nor the fact that you've ogled Brooke Burns during the entire season of "Rock Star: Supernova." I'm not jealous. Would a jealous cat keep a Tomcat Stable full of suitors? I think not. Stop sending me gifts. I have a feeling you are going to need your money for your divorce.

And what of Travis Barker, from Blink-182? I received your hand-written letter, Travis--complete with the cologne-spritzed floral paper and kissy marks next to your signature. Yes, I was flattered when you tattooed my likeness on your left butt cheek. Yes, I get your secret signals for me--blinking repeatedly throughout your many appearances on MTV's TRL. Don't get me wrong, I like the attention; however, I refuse to hook up with a man who names his daughter "Alabama." It's a notoriously racist state! (Editor's disclaimer: Not all residents of Alabama are, nor have been, racist. One should never assume that the narrow-minded opinions of a few people living in a single location define the entire state. Kukka would not know this, however, as she refuses to be bothered with what she calls "poopy national news.") I know I've been spayed and will never have kittens with you, but I just can't take the risk you would name my kitten "Mississippi." Or, for that matter, "Louisiana!"

Charlie Sheen, QUIT CALLING ME! It's just getting creepy now!

Kate Hudson, I've told you I don't swing that way and, based on your own statements and history, I didn't think you did, either! When I lunched with your mother the other day at The Ivy, she told me you've woken from fitful nights of sleep, calling my name. Whatever. I call out "Rush Limbaugh" in my sleep and I am confident (hopeful) this doesn't mean anything. While I'm not into you, I wouldn't mind having one night with your soon-to-be ex, Chris Robinson. The Counting Crows make me hot! Wait? What? I'm being told he is with the Black Crowes. Nevermind. Do you have a phone number for Adam Duritz?

Finally, Brad Garrett of TV's Everybody Loves Raymond. You're too tall and your voice is in a register so low, that cats can not hear it. When you call me, all I hear on the other end is, "Mmmmnnnph, blah blah, hrumph." Not sexy. I would be open to receiving some tummy rubs from your huge hands, though! I hope you don't confuse this intimate act, for a long-term relationship, Brad. The sweet ones always do. It's not love. It's just giving hand. And some wiggling fingers. And maybe some...yeah, call me.


The Meezers said...

Brad Garrett? He's like franken-stine freakish! He looks like he could eat a little cat like me - Miles

DEBRA said...

No no Kukka none of dem are good enuff fer you!


Janice (5 Minutes for Mom) said...

don't give in girl - you know you deserve better!

Jewels said...

ROFL ROFL ROFL! Okay, it's apparent I'm going to have to come over and read your blog more often. I nearly got a cramp. I'm sorry, I digress. It's just sad when celebrities just don't get the hint that you're not interested. They claim to hate the paparazzi because they won't take no for an answer, but then they hound you. You poor feline. *sends over five pounds of your favorite cat food* I hope this help. :)

Renee said...

Oh you poor kitty. "hounded" all the time by these people. Why can't they leave you alone to nap in the sun?

Thanks for coming to my party and for the lawn kitty...I don't know, I may have to just get the rest, they're all so cute.

Kailani said...

Have you been rolling around in catnip again, Kukka? If you don't want Mr. Lachey, you can send him over my way!

Zeus said...

My human pet has told me to relay the following to you:

Dear Kukka THE CAT Maria,

You seem to suffer from the same delusions as Zeus. I was more than a bit pissed off when I found out you had received Johnny Depp as a blogiversary gift from Fat Eric, but truth be told, I thought I would take the higher road in how I dealt with you and your shenanigans. However, now that several of these prime beefcakes are up for sale again, I don't find it the least bit amusing that you claim you are receiving phone calls and acolades from them!

Has it ever occured to you how FREAKY this would be if it actually turned out that these men were TRULY interested in you? It would ruin their lives to have their beastial instincts on display like this, yet you have no care for their well-being or their reputations. I just find this to be heartless and selfish on your part to post their troubles in such an audacious manner.

I speak to your MOM (yes, I said Mom and not AGENT) on a regular basis, and I think she would not be too happy with the knowledge of your slanderous ways. If you would like for me to remain quiet, however, you can simply give my phone number and address to Dave Navarro, and we'll call it even. I'll even forget how you rubbed it in my face that you smothered and covered Johnny Depp.

The choice is your's, gadonka-donk butt. Choose wisely.

Your's truly,


Sophie said...

Hello! I'm the new cat on the block...

My what a lovely blog you have here!!

NOLADawn said...

Poor Kukka, so many sad little men, so little time.

Samantha said...

I would do the same thing in your position *being smart* Yah, I'd just tell them to lose my number! I mean sheesh, dont they know that you arent just a fall back kitty? LOL

Kimo & Sabi said...

Hey Kukka! Johnny Depp called us trying to get your blog URL but we played dumb (even the taken ones are sneaky) - figured you had enough celeb calls to deal with! We're going to add your link to our site 'cause we need some royal blood to chat with. Come visit us sometime!
Kimo & Sabi
P.S.- we have family in Rockford, MI !

Carmen said...

Of all of these, I think Nick would be the prime suspect. I just don't want to see you and Dave Nvarro putting out wedding invitations with you on a vet's operating table or something. Ick

Brad Pitt said...

I'm glad I never drunk-dialed you when Jen and I split up, Kukka! You are harsh!

Dave Navarro said...

I would call that Marina chick and ask her out, but she was pretty cruel to you, Kukka!

With my loyalty always with you, I have to give her a "Step off, beeotch!"

Now will you date me, Kukka-Maria!? I defended your honor!