POINT/COUNTER-POINT:"Technically", They're Still Oscars

GENIUSES...EVERY ONE!
by Brach

I refuse to stay silent about a topic as important as this one: It is an insult that The Scientific and Technical Academy Awards are held in a separate ceremony. As a brainiac myself, it hurts me that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences feels that offering up a "separate, but equal" ceremony is acceptable--nay, appropriate!

The widely acclaimed films and the actors' performances contained within would not exist without the ingenuity, tenacity, creativity and vision of the virtuosos behind the cameras. Yes, the actors' performances are notable and should be recognized, but without brilliant technical efforts, it would be like displaying the Mona Lisa in your dimly lit, damp basement!

And what is with the "token starlet" who is chosen each year to present the awards to these brilliant wizards of film? Imagine a conference room, filled with suits. One dude says, "Well, if you think they'll be offended that we are sticking them in the back room, we can always parade a hot, little Hollywood number in front of them. These geeks aren't used to seeing someone that beautiful up close!" Are these accomplished technical minds supposed to feel lucky that a glamorous fashionista (like Rachel McAdams, this year) took time away from jet-setting, signing autographs and dodging the paparazzi to toss some crumbs their way? HISS!

Let's talk about these "crumbs." Aren't these the OSCARS? Where are their statuettes? From the official site (the only edits I'm making is bolding and underlining the parts I feel are noteworthy):

"In addition to eleven Technical Achievement Awards (certificates) and six Scientific and Engineering Awards (plaques), Gary Demos received the Gordon E. Sawyer Award (an Oscar^® statuette) and Don Hall received the John A.Bonner Medal of Commendation."

A single Oscar statuette. The rest came away with pieces of paper or a polished piece of wood with their name engraved. Why not just buy some old bowling trophies at a garage sale to recycle!?

So sad...so sad...

In closing, I feel these cinematic heroes are short-changed. Giving them inferior awards at an second-class ceremony is a slap in the face. Giving them a booklet of McDonald's gift certificates and a hearty hand-shake may be a step up.

Damn the celebrities and all the bells and whistles that accompany them!



THEY PROBABLY DON'T SHOWER, EITHER!
by Kukka-Maria

If you dress a nerd or geek up and parade him on the red carpet, dear Brach, he is still a dweeb. Why would you want to subject the adoring public to a horrible sight such as this?

I've always thought the true measure of a man is how handsome and photogenic he is--not how "smart" or "creative" he can be. What is wrong with you that you don't agree?

Consider Albert Einstein. His hair was dingy gray and wildly unkempt. Do I want to see that on my television...uh, no. Yes, he was brilliant and yes, he set the scientific world abuzz with his theories and findings, but don't you think the man could run a comb through his hair once in awhile?

You're just jealous that you are only invited to the Oscars this year because I invited you as my guest. Suck it, Brach. You and your pencil-necked friends can watch me on the red carpet on the TV in the basement of one of your egghead friend's MOTHER'S HOUSE!

Glamour is a state of mind...not a state of brain. Deal with it, because you are now officially un-invited to the Oscars.

Mardi Gras Exploits

From the Mardi Gras 2005 tabloid archive:

Look out...Mardi Gras 2006 can only get worse!

"Dear Kukka...", Volume VII (Oscar Edition)

Again, dear readers, it is time to respond to a mere few of the squillions (I told you I'd find a way to use that word, William) of letters I receive from adoring fans. This round, let's focus on the Academy Awards!

If you don't see your question posted here, please don't get your panties in a bunch (for those cats who wear panties, that is...). It probably means we just threw your letter out. My mom says she has a fierce case of "cabin fever" and is starting the spring cleaning early. I can't be held responsible if she chooses to chuck any letters she feels are lame.

Q: Kukka-Maria, it was rumored you were in the running to host the Oscars this year, but that the Academy decided to go with Jon Stewart--A HUMAN! How did you deal with the rejection?
A: Let's set the record straight right away. They didn't reject me, I rejected THEM! If I had a cat treat for every phone call I received begging me to host the show--or at least make an appearance on the red carpet, I would evict my mother from my home immediately because I'd have enough snacks to last me 9 lives and wouldn't be in need of her services anymore. You did ask a very interesting question. How do I deal with rejection? Wait. By "interesting," I meant "ridiculous." Why would anyone reject me? Next question.

Q: What kind of swag do you expect to bring home from the Oscars?
A: Now that's a great question! The free stuff we celebrities net during the award season is remarkable! Of all the award shows (Golden Globes, SAG Awards, Emmys, Grammys, etc.) I find the members of the Academy are the most generous and considerate of a royal feline's desires. This year, I expect to receive the following--and then some:

• Designer clothing (created especially for me)
• A collection of my favorite sights and sounds on DVD
• Jeweled collars
• Treats as far as the eye can see
• A luxury cat condo (so I can finally move out on my own!)
• A Hello Kitty cell phone (the number will be unlisted, so don't even ask...)
• And, because he's been "getting around a bit" in the last few weeks, I understand they're even planning to stuff Val Kilmer in the bag, too (I hope he's up to date on his shots)!

Q: When we see you on the red carpet, Kukka, who will you have on your paw? Come on, DISH! Who will your date be?
A: It was a very tough decision as to who would be the lucky Tom! As you know, I can't cough up a hairball without it making the front page of every tabloid in print, so choosing my date has become quite a challenge. It seems I can't share treats, consume catnip or play with a cat without reading about our "torrid love affair" in the press. Considering this, I felt it was safest to take Brach with me as my date. Unless we accidentally pull an "Angelina," I expect the story of my date to remain non-newsworthy.

Q: Kukka, who will you be wearing on the red carpet at the Oscars?
A: I have narrowed my choices down to two. The first is a luscious floor-length ball gown in ice blue taffeta with a shredded over-skirt of chiffon misted with microscopic, hand-stitched Austrian crystal beadwork, design by Karl Lagerfeld. The second contender is an original design by Stella McCartney. The ultra-feminine bias-cut silk charmeuse, hand dyed in a lovely, hombre Indian Ocean blue goes so well with my eyes! It's so difficult to decide! I look so beautiful in both--especially with $500,000 worth of borrowed bling from Harry Winston, including a specially designed blue diamond tiara. For those of you thinking these designs, cut way down for my svelte feline figure, will have reasonable retail prices...think again. Even though they use far less fabric than human frocks, each design will run the average kitty roughly $35,000. For me, though, it's free because both Karl and Stella realize that the designer I choose will experience record sales in 2006 due to my extreme popularity. It's good to be the empress...

Q: Kukka, I have a two-part question. First, what is your position on wearing fur--do you feel it's inhumane to wear fur coats on the red carpet? And second, will you be wearing your fur coat to the awards?
A: I don't know how I can avoid it! Mother Nature has blessed me with a resplendent and flawless fur coat and it would be a crime to keep it from being displayed on the red carpet. As for the humans who wish to wear fur? I offer this: "If you can grow it, show it!" Ladies, refrain from shaving your legs and armpits for the Oscars! Gentlemen, sport your Grizzly Adams beards! You may make the worst-dressed list, but you won't get red paint thrown in your direction...

Q: Empress, I noticed you were shut-out of the nominations this year. Why do you think your phenomenal work went unrecognized?
A: I'm sorry...what movies did you see me in this year? Yes, I've starred in several blockbusters in years past (including "Dr. Suess' The Cat in the Hat," "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof," and the severely mis-cast "Kitty Hawk: The Wright Brothers' Journey of Invention") and am the lead in the soon-to-be-released remake of "the way-out whopper of a funny western", "Cat Ballou," but I have been on a hiatus for the last 13 months. Do me a favor, please...buy an Entertainment Weekly and catch up on the status of my career.

As for the rest of you, be sure to watch me present "Best Foreign Language Film" at the Academy Awards on Sunday, March 5 at 8pm EST. I'll be there, unless I decide to boycott, since not a single film in Meow was nominated.

Yin and Yang Napping Haiku

Peaceful Zen Napping

Opposites, yet so balanced...

Perfect harmony!

Bros before Hos

While my sister and I don't always get along, I have always tried to protect her privacy and show her the utmost respect. Today, my loyalty to my feline brothers, who have recently served their hearts to Kukka-Maria on a silver platter, outweighs my loyalty to my own sibling. As the ancients have said, "Bros before Hos!"

Gentlemen, if after reading what I have to say, you still feel you wish to throw yourselves into the raging volcano that is Kukka's love, feel free to do so. I feel it's important that you have all the facts before sacrificing your hearts for the empress.

Several months ago, I found a locked box in the spare bedroom closet marked "KEEP OUT! THIS MEANS YOU!" Kukka caught me looking at the box and told me never to touch it again because it was filled with boggarts. BOGGARTS! I was so frightened, I practically peed right where I stood! I swore to her that, due to the incredible risk, I would honor her warning and never touch the box again.

A few weeks ago, after a hearty catnip binge, Kukka stumbled into the spare bedroom. I stealthily followed her--a clear ten paces behind. I silently watched as she unlocked the box and removed a secretly stashed tampon with which to play. Wait a second! There were no boggarts in the box! All I saw was Kukka and a tampon--and neither of them are my worst fear!

SHE LIED TO ME!

The next day, vowing to fully discover what she was keeping in that locked box, I opened it during the second of her four morning naps. Among a stash of catnip, some cotton swabs, tampons and a healthy collection of condoms, was the following love letter from Mojo, the dog.

Mojo and his mom have been family friends for a long time. Yes, there has been tension between Mojo and Kukka over the last year or so, but I always assumed it had to do with the whole "Cat vs. Dog" dynamic. After reading the following letter, the true nature of Kukka and Mojo's relationship was revealed.

William and Moose, take heed, for here is but one of the broken hearts Kukka-Maria has left in her wake:

"30 March 2005
the night market, Marrakech

Kukka, Ma Chère –

It is night and I sit alone at the maison de thè – you know the one – in the heart of the souk.

I am swallowed by memories of you.

Here is where I first saw you: tiara askew, draped elegantly in the arms of the chargé d’affaires américain, standing beneath the Moorish arch under the silver sliver of the moon. As drunk as you were, he was clearly the more intoxicated – he professed his adoration, your charming rejection only made him want you more.

‘Quelle femme!’ I thought to myself.

I like to think that it was in that moment he learned what all of us who try to possess you must sooner or later learn: the soul that is Kukka-Maria can be tamed by neither man nor beast. Better that the pauvre américain and myself had tried to hold the wind in our hand than to love Kukka-Maria! Easier it would have been to faire la pagaie across the ocean tout seul!

Yes, ma petite, I know that you can never belong to me. In fact, I often think you cannot even belong to yourself. Your spirit Kukka, ta force de vie, she is so strong! She must be free: pour le monde! For a world without Kukka, somewhere, living freely in the fullness of her splendor cannot exist. Je le refuse!

Soon ma chere, my work here will be complete and my body will leave this strange land. And it will be none-too-soon: for every breath of jasmine-scented night air that fills my lungs with life also fills my heart with longing for you, sinking me deeper into la despoir. And for the sake of my work, this I cannot allow. I am bound for Paris la semaine sur prochaine. There I will receive new orders to face le danger et la mort. But all this is nothing to the peril of loving you. No matter where I go, ma petite chou, mon coeur will always be in a smoky tea room in Marrakech, longing for you.

Toujours le tien,
Mojo"

Haiku, Part Deux

First off, I gave Fat Eric credit for inspiring my haikus (which he did, since he mentioned his haiku in my comment section and his was the first site I checked before cranking out some haikus of my own). I do want to give a shout-out to the instigator of this whole haiku thing, though...Max! Big ups to the big guy who knows how to bully his little brother, too!

Secondly, but probably a bit more important, is the fact that there is a war brewing over my love and affection. Moose (Un des Trois Chats) and William (of Mass Destruction) have both penned lovely haikus in my honor and have, subsequently, been verbally battling in the comments section of Moose's post (how exquisitely exciting for me). Max even suggested they battle it out with a haiku duel!

I'll be honest--I've read of wars starting over Empresses, but there is nothing like the thrill of it actually happening to me!

While I am not a two-timing skank (despite everything you may have read in the tabloids--and on my very own blog), I would like to take the opportunity to pay homage to my two suitors now.

Shimmering black coat
Piercing eyes burn through my heart
Destruct me, William!!

I can turn you on,
wrapped in weather-stripping--purr...
I know my man well!




Moosey, my fair love,
Your ginormous tail--my muse.
My heart leaps for you!

Although you are young,
You are quite the "manly" Tom.
I can teach you things...

Haiku Heaven

Fat Eric inspired us with his haiku honoring me and Brach (well, honoring mostly Brach because it spoke about me "bullying" the poor little guy...oh, now I can hardly keep a straight face while I type the words!).

Anyway, here are some of my own haikus.

Cat Pawtrait Contest
Giving me headaches galore!
Way too many cats...

Poor little Brach Lee...
Constantly bullied by me.
Suck it, Brach! I'm boss!!

Fat Eric is cool.
Spells favour with an "OU"
British accent purrs...

Our mom was so sick
Erupting from both ends...
Send more litter, please!!

(wow...that was deliciously disgusting!
I sprinkled "Kukka Love" all over it...)

Brach's Pawtrait clue is:
"One of my sleeves is pushed up."
That makes it easy.

Kukka's Pawtrait clue:
"Pristine white gloves, but wait--NO!!
That's pigment...not poop!"

The Flu in a Heart-Shaped Box

Mom got the flu for Valentine's Day.

I'm telling you this to explain my recent absence from the blogging world--NOT BECAUSE I RELY ON HER TO TYPE MY ENTRIES, but because I've actually been spending a lot of time comforting her.

It's my feline duty...

From our hearts to yours...

Well...a little more from Brach's heart than mine.
I'm anti-everything-love.

UGH! Betrayed by my body!

It went down a little like this:

Mom: "Kukka...what are you doing?"

I immediately freeze like a statue, pretending I don't hear her. After what seemed like an hour (but was more like 7-10 seconds), I began shoving the plastic register hood again.

Mom: "Kukka-Maria! Stop messing with the vent cover!"

I freeze again and continue pretending I've suddenly gone deaf and can not hear her yelling to me.

Mom: "Kukka! I know you can hear me because your ear is completely turned in my direction! Now stop that!!"

Who knew my own ear would rat me out?

TAG! I'm it!!

I have to start this post with an admission of guilt. I was tagged some time ago by my mom's friend, Stacey, but I declined to participate. Instead of posting the meme on my site, I chose to respond in her comment section. I have to admit, it was because I thought I was too cool to play human meme games. It wasn't until the cat community began calling, that I realized it wasn't that I was too cool; it was that Stacey just might be as cool as some of my feline friends, after all!

Now, I've been tagged by Jasper McKitten-Cat and Oscar the Wonder Cat (who, by the way, tagged Brach and I as a team--acknowledging Brach as a blogger in his own right...UGH, which sent Brach running around the room doing what he calls "Victory Laps").

So, call it buckling under the extreme weight of peer-pressure or blatant disrespect for humans (because it was a human who first tagged me)...I've decided to post it now and tag a few cool cats myself.

Here are the rules:
1. Go into your archives.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Post the fifth sentence (or closest to it).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same thing.


Since my 23rd post was a photo-spread, I had to go to the next one with a 5th sentence. It was a response to a "Dear Kukka..." question, asking me if I had a to-do list. Among other items on my to-do list, was this:

"Disrupt my mom's sleep by walking back and forth on her body, whining, throwing random items off of her dresser and nightstand, and plucking at the carpet."

That reminds me...I have something I need to do right now! But before I do that, let me tag William (of Mass Destruction), Maddie (who craps in a box), Henry (who loves to bite), Fat Eric (who meows with a British accent), and The Wonder Kittens (Buttons and Momo).

You have seen the extensive list of links I sport...if there is anyone else who wants to play, please don't wait for a personalized invite from me! Cowboy up! (or would that be Cowcat up...I have to think this through a bit)

Why I Was ALMOST Named "Yoga"

POINT/COUNTER-POINT:It's For the Birds

I AM THE BIRD WHISPERER
by Brach

Birds are my friends. Every day they perch themselves outside my bedroom window and talk to me as they eat their yummy bird seed.

Yesterday, a Cardinal couple stopped by to tell me about their winter adventures.

The male Cardinal said, "Well, hello, Brach! It's been awhile since we've seen the likes of you!"

"Welcome back, Howard!" I said, hoping that is was, in fact Howard and not his twin brother, Hank.

Now, Howard isn't the most polite bird you'll meet. With his mouth full of black sunflower seeds, he mumbled, "You've got some mighty fine birdseed this year, Brach. Did you pick it out especially for us?"

"You betcha, Howie! Nothing but the best for my red-bodied friend!" I replied with a chuckle. Turning to his wife, I asked, "How are you, Gertie? I hope this mild winter has been a pleasant surprise for you both."

"Oh, it has, Brach...it has indeed!" she replied after flicking a seed shell to the ground.

"Listen, you two--feast as long as you'd like. I'm going to nap here a bit. If you need anything--and I mean anything--please do not hesitate to ask. You are my guests!" I said, burying myself under the comforter on the spare room bed.

As I drifted off to sleep, I ran through the list of my bird friends. There are the Cardinals (Howard and Gertie), The Finches (Bob and Carolyn) and the gay Woodpeckers (Steve and Eric).

Birds are wonderful creatures who should be celebrated and revered.

I am a proud bird lover.





BIRDS ARE A GREAT SOURCE OF PROTEIN
by Kukka-Maria

I, too, am a bird lover. The difference, though, is that Brach bases his love for birds on emotion and I base my love on taste. I WOULD LOVE TO EAT THEM!

While I've never actually eaten a bird (I have my mother and her commitment to keeping us locked inside the house to thank for this), my salivary glands and I spend hours each day dreaming of what it would be like.

Each day, I sit on the spare room bed and dreamily gaze out the window at all of the birds (and chipmunks) that stop by to dine. As they bury their heads into the seed, I imagine devouring their little bodies and picking my teeth with their feathers and bones.

There is nothing wrong with that, right?! Hush! It's the natural order...the law of the food chain! DON'T JUDGE ME!!

This morning, one bird called out to me. "Kuuuukka! Don't I look deliiiiiiicious eating my breakfast?"

I tried, frantically, to stick my head under the blinds in my mom's bedroom to look out. I slammed them against the window frame over and over, desperately trying to see who was calling out to me.

"Kuuuuuuuukka-Mariiiiiiiiia! I'm sitting here, completely vulnerable, fattening myself up to make me more delicious for you. Don't you want to come get me?" mocked the bird.

SLAM! SLAM! SLAM!

"Kukka! Knock it off! It's 6:00 in the morning!" exclaimed a sleepy Mom.

I tried explaining to her that the bird was taunting me, that I was only trying to catch the bird through the window, and that she would be really proud of me when I presented her with a bird carcass as a gift. She refused to be persuaded, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Birds are evil. After tormenting me like that--AND getting me in trouble--they deserve to be eaten!

Yes, I love birds--yummy, delicious, savory, delectable birds!

One of these days, I'll get out and inflict a whole world of hurt on you little creatures. You just wait and see...even Brach won't be able to defend you against my wrath!

I want to thank...

I've been named Catnabbit's Cat Site of the Week!

WOW!! I'm thrilled to have something written about me that isn't tabloid drivel!

First off, I want to thank the little cats whose loyalty and admiration of me is what keeps me going. If it weren't for them, I would have given it all up years ago. I'd name names, but you know who you are!!

I want to thank the human woman--who I lovingly refer to as "Servant" (behind her back, of course)--for giving me sustenance in the form of treats, food, water and occasional pats on the rump. I am glad I made the decision to let you live with me! Despite our squabbles about you allowing my food to get so low that I can see the bottom of the bowl, you insisting upon taking off your coat before you get treats for me when you come home, and hiding the tampons so I can't play with them...you are a keeper, lady!

Am I forgetting anyone? I know I must be forgetting someone!!

I want to thank my veterinarian! I know I come off as a bit testy and don't tell you often how much I appreciate you (unless you count burying my claws into your shoulder or bare-assing your arm), but if it weren't for you...NO!! DON'T PLAY THE MUSIC YET! I HAVE SO MANY PEOPLE TO THANK!

I'd be remiss if I didn't give a shout-out to my brother from another mother, Brach Lee. Yes, we fight. Yes, I bully you. And, yes...I am totally the boss of you. Without you, though, life would be a whole lot more boring and my blogging material would be cut in half if I didn't have you about whom to complain.

And, finally, to all the blogging cats out there:
DREAMS DO COME TRUE!

Peace out.

Project: "Black Tie"

HISS! I am sick of being considered a second-class feline citizen--just because I am not black and white! Did you realize these tuxedo cat elitists have their own gang?

Something has to be done about this! While I am a huge fan of individual Tuxedo Cats (check my links...I read them daily), apparently when they get together, they get a little arrogant. Don't break your legs trying to pat one another on the backs, Tuxies!

Inspired by Norah Vincent, the author of "Self-Made Man," I spent much of my weekend developing my strategy to go deep-undercover and infiltrate The Tuxedo Gang.

The first step of my physical transformation required me to obtain a tuxedo. Initially, I thought about dying my own fur black and white. My mother nixed that plan almost immediately. "You'll make a huge mess with that Grecian Formula, Kukka-Monster!" I rolled my eyes and walked away in a huff. That left me with purchasing a tuxedo, which I happily did--using my mother's credit card.

Once I was suited up, I had to work on my mannerisms. My vocabulary and tone of voice had to change if I was going to be taken seriously by the snob squad. To accomplish this, I've been meowing with a British accent for the last three days. I don't know why, really. I guess it has something to do with the fact that one of the most famous tuxedo-clad cool cats ever is James Bond--and he always speaks with a British accent.

My mom is getting pretty sick of my new phrases:

• "If it's not too much trouble, love, I'll take a biscuit now. Cheers!" (Formerly: "MOM!! Get off your lazy butt and get me a treat!!")
• "Oh, I'm knackered! A nap would be brilliant right about now." (Formerly: "Can't you see I'm tired and I'm trying to nap?")
• "My loo hasn't been scooped in a fortnight. If you were to do it now, I'd be arse over elbows for you!" (Formerly: "I'm surfing turds here, Mom! Do you not remember how to use the scoop? If you do it now, I might let you sleep until your alarm goes off tomorrow morning...")

The third step in my transformation to tuxedo cat-dom required an attitude adjustment. The fact that the Tuxedo Gang has their own clique implies they look down their black and white noses to other, "inferiorly-marked" cats like me. To come off as a snooty, hoity-toity elitist, I decided to practice by snubbing Brach.

The problem was that when I ignored him, it didn't really phase him. According to him, it was like any other day! Maybe I'm closer to being a tuxedo cat than I realize!

You may agree with my brainiac brother who insists that it is stupid for me to post my strategy on our blog because members of The Tuxedo Gang will read it and be prepared for my invasion. I say my victory will be sweeter when I emerge from my hiding spot--right beneath their mono-chromatic noses!

Mwaaaaaaah-ha ha ha... (that's my evil laugh)

As for now, I will continue practicing my Tuxedo Cat dress, vocabulary, and behavior. What other "Tuxie" characteristics should I be practicing? Should I make flashcards from which to study? Considering I'm doing this for all of the multi-colored cats out there, your support and feedback will be invaluable!

Who is the QUEEN? I'll give you one guess...

Again, I used brute-force to get my way (or, as I like to think of it, restore the natural balance of the universe). It's not that I don't think I should have to work hard to get what I rightly deserve (which is totally true, by the way). It's because one of these days I'm going to break a nail because I repeatedly have to rough up a cat--who shall remain nameless--because he can not seem to grasp the chain of command.

Here is a photo of me, sleeping in the new bed Mom bought for me (ok, she says it's for both Brach and I, but an independent study performed by me indicates she is certifiably insane, so you can pretty much discard anything she says beyond "Do you want treats?"). I apologize for the graininess of the photo. It was taken by paparazzi--with a cell phone camera. Damn the paparazzi! I shake my paw in their general direction!!


Pre-story:
Brach was sleeping soundly in my new bed. I saw him from across the room and decided to remedy the situation. I went over, began bathing his face with my kisses, then stood on him with all of my weight until he relinquished the throne.

A little while later, after I had bathed myself and had gotten snuggly, he approached the bed and tried to join me. I growled and hissed at him. He got the message and proceeded to sleep next to my throne on the floor--where he belongs.

Life is grand, I tell you...it's good to be The Empress!

Cat Bullies Caught on Film!