I have to admit, folks, reading and answering the squillions of letters I receive each month is taking its toll on me. It's becoming a real strain to hear Brach complain about strained eyes and paper cuts as he sifts through my mail. And my agent/manager/publicist rubs her back and whines as she hoists the mailbags into the house each day. What do I pay them for, if not to do some healthy manual labor?
What? I don't pay them? Nevermind...let's get on to the mail!
Q: With all of the hype on the alleged ban on skinny models, Kukka-Maria, what does this mean for you and the rest of the feline super-models?
A: First off, thank you for acknowledging my super-successful modeling career. While many people are aware of my acting, singing, dancing and blogging talents, they somehow seem to forget or disregard my amazing gift for walking in a straight line, posing, smiling and holding very still for photo shoots. Tough stuff! Secondly, I have to question your reference to the rest of the feline super-models. I'm not sure I know what you're...what other feline super-models? I'm sure it was a simple mistake that you tried to lump other cat models in my category. There are some
Q: Recently, Lindsay Lohan has had some issues with her mother. Empress, have you ever had mama-drama with your agent/manager/publicist--who also happens to be your mother?
A: No. My agent knows her place and understands that she is in my employ. On the rare occasion when she lips off to me [Editor's note: Addresses a behavioral issue], I make it clear to her that I'm her ticket to fame and fortune. I ask her if she is enjoying the spoils of my labor and she quickly shuts her yapper. [Editor's note: Puh-leeeeease! The spoils of her labor roughly translate to me spending my hard-earned money on food, treats, litter and toys for her. In fact, as I've stood in the store--food in one hand and litter in the other, I've often wondered why I couldn't just buy litter with turds already in it, so I could cut out the middle-man. Spoils...whatever.]
Q: Kukka, George Clooney has expressed he intends to be a serial dater. In a recent interview, he said, "I want to spend every single night for three months going out with a different famous actress. You know, Halle Berry one night, Salma Hayek the next, and then walk on the beach holding hands with Leonardo DiCaprio." I can't help but notice he didn't mention you. Are you hurt?
A: Hurt? No. In fact, I am relieved he has finally decided to honor the restraining order I have had against him for the last two years. We shared an incredibly intense relationship at one time. He would pet me lovingly. I taught him how to capitalize on those bedroom eyes. He would give me treats. I helped him perfect that tight-lipped, smug grin. It was a wonderful and rich experience for both of us, until he bought a one-way ticket to Crazy Town. He would call at all hours of the night, begging me to be seen with him at popular L.A. restaurants so the paparazzi would quit speculating on his level of gayness [Editor's note: Because bestiality is so much better. Crap. Now I'm going to get creepy people coming to the blog because I used the "B" word!]. The last straw was when he stood outside my house, in a trench coat, blaring Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" from the boombox over his head. As romantic as you may think that would be, it made me throw up a little bit in my mouth. George Clooney, actor = good. George Clooney, boyfriend = CAH-RAAAAAAZY!
Q: Kukka, you often complain about Brach, your adopted feline brother. I've heard rumors you are actually married and are keeping it a secret to preserve your image as a slut. What is the deal? Do you pretend he is bothersome to throw us off? Is there something you want to share with your public?
A: I maintain I am single. [Editor's note: Technically, it is illegal for cats to marry in this country.] I can confirm Brach is, in fact, my family member. [Editor's note: They do not share DNA and "family member" seems a bit vague.] I have no further comments on the subject. [Editor's note: Seems pretty curious to me, as well. I can tell you I've seen them getting pretty affectionate with one another and...] Excuse me? What kind of publicist are you? [Editor's note: I have no further comments on the subject.]
Q: Kukka, I've heard you will be attending a conference in Minneapolis in two weeks for super-sexy and hyper-talented felines. Is this true and, if so, how do I register? It is also rumored you are meeting an un-named male there and intend to have a week-long secret tryst. Thank you, in advance, for your honest answers.
A: Bah-ha-ha-ha! FACT: I am attending a conference in Minneapolis in two weeks. FACT: It's sweet you think you can register. You can not. As the only feline who qualifies under the "super-sexy" and "hyper-talented" criteria, I will be the only speaker/presenter, as well as attendee. I can't wait to listen to my presentations! FACT: There may or may not be a male meeting me there. You are very welcome for the clear and factual responses to your questions.
Q: I see a lot of humans are reading your blog now. As a cat, I'm a bit put off that your readership has diversified. What, exactly, is your commitment to the cat-blogging community? Can we expect loyalty from you or are you suddenly going to become a HUMAN?!
A: First off, can you say "SPECIEST?" Because I would bet my treats for the next
Q: Kukka, you know everything. Who is the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby? Howard K. Stern or that other dude we haven't heard of until now?
A: Who cares? Ok. If you must know, it's neither. While I am not at liberty to say...exactly...I can say I believe his name starts with a Z and ends with an eus.
As always, dear fans, thank you for writing to me. While I am never amazed at your fascination with me, I am completely surprised you take the time to tell me. Ok. That wasn't true. I could barely keep a straight face while I wrote that. I'm never surprised. Keep 'em coming!