Monday, May 30, 2011

And then...

The Agent: Kukka-Maria! What happened to this new bag of food I just bought for you!

Me: I'm sorry...huh?

The Agent: This torn up bag of food! THIS one! What happened?

Me: Funny story. Well, not so much FUNNY as...scary. Yeah! SCAAAAAARY!

I came aound the corner from the hallway and saw him.

The Agent: Who him? Him who?

Me: This big, And then, as he tore through the bag, his eyes glowing red with rage, I politely asked him to stop effing with my food. And then he turned around, apparently not a fan of the f-word, and glared at me. Foamy saliva pooled at the corners of his mouth. The stench of his breath filled the air as he panted and panted and panted and...

The Agent: Kukka, get to the point.

Me: And then I was all "You better check yourself, beast. The Agent will have your head on a stick if she catches you messing all over the counter with scraps of paper and shit, yo." And then...he turned back to the bag that was desperately trying to contain the kibble and spat. Yes, SPAT on the food! And then I went into a blind rage and batted my claws at his tail. And then one of my claws hooked into his wagging appendage and he yelped and ran away.

AND THEN...Oprah walked in, head moving about as if she were a life-sized bobble-head doll. She was like, "OH NO YOU DI'INT!" And then I was all, "What, bitch?"

That sent her off the edge. Over the next few seconds, amidst her high-pitched, shrill shrieking, I think I learned:
  1. The kitty-kibble-crunching dog was hers.
  2. That Oprah's dogs are allowed to do anything they wish because "...they are Oprah emmer-effing Winfrey's babies, skank!"
  3. That one of "Oprah's Favorite Things" is to viciously and repeatedly swat innocent cats on their super-sexy and robust hind quarters with no remorse.
And then...AND THEN, Oprah started clawing into the bag! Yeah! And then she was shoving cat kibble into her gullet like it was the last meal she would ever be granted for the rest of her life. And that's why it clearly looks as if much of the food has been eaten!

She was all, "NOM, NOM, NOM! *belch* NOM, NOM, NOM!"

And then I was going, "No, Oprah! STOP!"

She was like, "NOM, NOM, NOM! OPRAH...HUNG...RY!"

And then she heard you coming up the stairs, jumped upon the window ledge, sprouted demon wings and leapt into the air. The wind from her flapping wings is what blew all the cat bag paper around and made a mess.

And then...

The Agent: So you expect me to believe that a wild dog, belonging to Oprah Winfrey tore open your bag of food, you swore at the dog, clawed him on the tail after which he ran away. Then Oprah showed up, yelled at you, engorged herself on kibble, sprouted demon-like wings, and flew from the window.

Me: Wait! I haven't even scratched the surface of the Willy Wonka angle and how the water was splashed from the dish and splattered on the floor! Those Oompa Loompas are a fierce gang of hooligans!

The Agent: So, Kukka, how long did it take you to obliterate the bag of cat food?

Me: About 4½ minutes. WAIT! NO!


Sunday, May 29, 2011

Pretty Pink Paw Pad Peek

Pink paw pads peek out,
Sleep never interrupted.
A lazy Sunday.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

One Pat Cat

Brach is such a tease! He will act as if he wants a squillion scritches,
then will walk under The Agent's hand once...and done.

Meanwhile, I want a squillion scritches and am willing to walk back
and forth, endlessly, until her hand cramps or she is worn out.

That spoiled cat takes The Agent's pets for granted.
I am smart enough to know you take what you can get when you can get it!

Monday, May 23, 2011


Announcer: Hello and welcome to America's favorite game show, REAL...OR...FAKE®! Please welcome your host, Kukka Winkindale!

Kukka: HIDEY HO, EVERYONE! We, at REAL...OR...FAKE®, are taking a break from Breast Month to feature a cat whose fame is only existent because of his celebrity wife...BRACH O' LEE! Today, we will be challenging this plant addict with the question, "Is this plant REAL...OR...FAKE®?" Ladies and gentlemen, let's greet our guest, Brach, with a round of applause. Brach! Come on out!

(Cue heavily-orchestrated music in the style of Lawrence Welk)

Kukka: Welcome, Brach! On REAL...OR...FAKE®, contestants receive a clue as they study an image. They are then asked, "Is that image REAL...OR...FAKE®? Each question is worth 100 treats, with a final bonus image worth 500 treats. Are you ready to play REAL...OR...FAKE®?

Brach: You bet your obvious toupee, Kukka!

Kukka: (Adjusting her "hair") Well, then, let's start with the first image.

This authentic, genuine Christmas Cactus doesn't look like your typical cactus.  Known to bloom around the holidays, this plant is rather tasty and is not poisonous to cats, though dining on its leafy goodness is strongly discouraged in your home. Now, this plant REAL...OR...FAKE®?

Brach: Well, Kukka, I have seen this one before in the living room. I have been known to knock it off its plant stand in an effort to get a bite. I know this one. This Christmas Cactus is...FAKE! WAIT! No! REAL!

Kukka: (Holding a paw to her ear) I am sorry, Brach. The judges are telling me in my ear piece that we must go with your first response. You said "FAKE" and it is, in fact, real. You did not win 100 treats for this question.

Let's shake this off and move on to the next image.

This flower arrangement sits at the end of the hallway at your The Agent's parents' house. Its collection of silken petals are colorful and made of silk. Our question to you, Brach, is one with which you are very familiar. Are these flowers REAL...OR...FAKE®?

Brach: I know this flower arrangement well. I have spent many a night chomping on its plastic buds. This arrangement has to be...REAL! Final answer.

Kukka: (Shaking her head slowly) Brach, I am sorry, but you have missed the mark yet again. Made of silk and various plastics, this arrangement of flowers is FAKE. Fake...

You still have one last chance for 100 treats before ever-challenging bonus round. Now let's see the next image!

This cluster of artificial roses, bound tightly with twine, sits in the spare bedroom at The Agent's parents' home. Nestled in a bed of faux grasses, these buds stand proudly in the sunshine and clean easily with a vacuum cleaner or hair dryer. For 100 treats, this arrangement REAL...OR...FAKE®?

Brach: I am sure of this one, as I have tasted these flowers first-hand. These beautiful blooms, though tough to chew, are succulent and a delight to the taste buds. I am confident that these flowers are...REAL!

Kukka: BRACH! Seriously?! I am sorry, but these flowers are obviously fake. I could go into how I have been giving you hints and how block-headed you must be to keep answering incorrectly, but I think we should just push on to the bonus round.

This horticultural phenomenon is known as The Kukka, which in Finnish means "Flower." Its texture is soft as a cartoon cloud and shiny like the mirror in which it likes to gaze. It has incredible intellect, amazing talent, gorgeous form, and super-sexy multiple nipples. For 500 bonus treats, Brach...and I encourage you to think very hard on this one, is this flower REAL...OR...FAKE®?

Brach: I have lived with one of these for almost 11 years.

Kukka: Talk it through, Brach.

Brach: While the plant itself appears very real, everything you described seems quite fake. I am going to have to go with...

Kukka: Take your time, Brach. 500 treats are on the line here.

Brach: I am going to have to go with...FAKE!

Kukka: OH, BOO-WAH! I am sorry, Brach, but yet again, you have answered the question incorrectly. This flower is very real and plans to kick your ass for not bringing home prize treats.

As for you, ladies and gentlemen, tune in tomorrow when we return to Breast Week on REAL...OR...FAKE®! Good night, everyone!

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Dog Bullying Series of Haikus

Uncle Cooper blocked.
Brach and I trapped him. Dumb dog.
He was very scared.

Brach and I laughed hard!
Brach on one side, me...other.
Cooper was trembling.

He barked for his mom;
She was downstairs, not hearing.
More laughter...HILARIOUS!

The Agent was mad.
She made us release his ass.
That will sure teach him!

Friday, May 20, 2011


Welcome to "MANIPULATION 101," your comprehensive guide to managing and controlling your human. I am your instructor and world-renown expert in human manipulation, Empress Kukka-Maria.

Today, we learn about OBTAINING TREATS.

There are several approaches that, over the years, I have found to be profitable. The key is to find a method that best suits your needs and showcases your unique talents.

The I'm-The-Cutest-Thing-You-Ever-Did-See
With my drop-dead beauty, this has been a fan favorite in my home. There are many ways to feature your preciousness without revealing your underlying purpose. Here is a tried and true recipe.

One Part Backside
Two Parts Front Paws
Six Parts Nipples (super-sexy multiple nipples not required, but preferred)
One Part Furry Head
Two Parts Come-Hither Eyes

Turn yourself onto your backside, curl your front paws toward your multiple nipples, cock your furry head to one side toward Your Agent, and blink slowly with come-hither eyes. Let Your Agent soak in your slutty approach; repeat, if necessary.
The Don't-Look-While-I-Lick
This tactic requires a sleek body, a well thought out entrance, and a sly departure. This is a favorite method for Brach as he is virtually invisible in the shadow of my celebrity. Because of my Rubenesque form and my bodacious swagger, I tend not to go this route. The recipe below should help you.

Four Parts Limber and Steady Legs
Four Parts Quiet, Feather-like Feet
One Part Squatty Body
Two Parts Shifty Eyes
One Part Scratchy Tongue
Eleventy Squillion Parts Patience

Squat your Body slowly until it is almost resting on your paws. Shift eyes back and forth, spying your target: Your Agent's plate of food (or empty plate of sauces, juice, and/or crumbs). This is also a good opportunity to case the joint, ensuring there are no witnesses. If you see a witness, do not panic! Simply stay still until the individual looks away. If that nosey individual is Kukka-Maria, give her the middle claw and continue your mission. Walk slowly on your feather-like feet. So slowly, it doesn't appear you are moving at all. Reaching your target will require all the patience you can muster, as moving in super-slow motion is taxing to the soul. Quickly extend your scratchy tongue and feast! If you get caught by Your Agent, refer to the I'm-The-Cutest-Thing-You-Ever-Did-See recipe.

The Begging-Is-So-Humiliating-But-Absolutely-Necessary-Sometimes
When all else fails, beg. This recipe is simple, yet painful.

One Part Pride
One Part Whiny Voicebox

Swallow your pride and use your whiny voicebox to plead with all your might. Wait for Your Agent to wear down or scold you. If you get lectured, refer to the I'm-The-Cutest-Thing-You-Ever-Did-See recipe.

I hope you have found these recipes to be helpful in your quest for treats/snacks/yum-yums/finger-lickin' goodies. If you have any questions on this instruction, feel free to add your inquiries to the comments and I will be most inconvenienced happy to answer them!

Happy Treating!
Your Professor, Empress Kukka-Maria
Celebrity to the Stars

Monday, May 16, 2011

Choppin' Brach O' Lee

I have 17 hotels and 42 houses on Park Place...PAY UP, BITCHES!

What a crazy weekend! Who knew that buying property, building houses and hotels and bankrupting my friends would be such a heady experience!

It was!

After fielding phone calls all day Saturday from people wanting to be near me, I finally decided it was time to hold my traditional "Cut-Throat Monopoly Tournament...A Bloody Battle to the Death." I chose my competitors carefully. I wanted them to be sweet (so they didn't get too violent when I took all of their multi-colored money), intelligent (but lacking the ability to effectively strategize), and super-sexy (that helps me deal with the sobbing when they lose, as tears streaming down a super-sexy face are still cute).

Since my celebrity friends don't meet all of the criteria, I went with some local tomcats. And, because my Agent is not keen on gambling, fake or otherwise (she is still in a secret fight with Las Vegas), I decided to hold my game in the back room of The Pussy Pub, the local feline watering hole.

First, there was Elmar, a super-sexy German Rex. I met him only recently, but I find his meows difficult to resist, as they are enhanced with a seductive German accent. Ich bin sein liebesklave! While I feared his heart-melting smile might distract me from nabbing all of his faux cash, I felt pretty confident that I could fight my urges and maintain my "take no prisoners" approach to leaving him penniless. I'll admit it here once (and will deny it later), but I did float him a low-interest loan during the game when he was teetering on the edge of financial ruin.

What? I didn't do that!

My next guest was a Persian named Rourke Kavanaugh, III. Though equally irresitable, he has a tendency to antagonize me and isn't the biggest Kukka fan which, of course, infuriates me. He has a reputation for being quite the ladies' tom; it's unclear whether he's actually earned it or if it is merely urban legend. Despite the fact he is very conservative in his views of the world (something that gets me going...and not in the good way), I think he secretly pines for me and, if he were to grow a pair (his were surgically removed early on), he might make a move. The potential of him being my sex slave is just enough reason for me to keep him around.

Next was Gus, a Mastiff. Don't judge me for including a dog in my game! He is a new friend and a sweet pup who, when not monitored, tends to slobber on you a bit and sniff your lady business. He means well, so you sort of have to forgive him. A gentle dog, he sometimes gets distracted--which makes him a great Monopoly opponent. He asked to bring a girl to the game, but she has a reputation for being an overly trashy drunk and I was just not having the competition chaos at my Monopoly table. There is room for only one trashy drunk at the game, thankyouverymuch!

And that trashy drunk is my dear friend Maria Carmen Gabriella Reyes de Casarez. Constantly ready and willing to rumble with the toms, she is always on the prowl and can be quite the whore at times. Wait...whores get paid. I guess she is just slutty. The only reason I didn't have much of an issue inviting a rival female to the game, is we tend to have different taste in toms. Maria Carmen Gabriella Reyes de Caserez (or MCGRdC, I prefer to call her) came to the game directly from mass. A devout Catholic Wiccan (a new hybrid religion she invented), she is a perfect combination of tradition and evolution. She is an extremely intelligent feline, but exhibits great grace when confronted with combative and intolerant cats. Dressed in a mantilla and clutching a rosary, she gives a devout and holy first impression...until you realize she is dressed only in a mantilla! Yes, she is completely nude underneath her fur!

The game began mildly. I distributed the fake cash (shorting a few players, I'll admit) and we rolled to see who would take the first turn. While I didn't win the roll, I proceeded to throw the temper tantrum of all tantrums and, with much reluctance, the group let me go first. Work it, Kukka!

The game progressed and properties were getting snatched up at an astounding pace! I stomped my paws in anger a few times, especially when Gus and Elmar teamed up to keep me from getting all the red properties. Damn you two for ripping Indiana and Illinois right out of my paws! Yes, I hadn't actually purchased them yet, but isn't possession 9/10ths of the law?

"Great play, Kav!" barked Gus, holding out his paw for a high-four.

"Um...I don't touch people. I don't want germs and I'm not about to muss my fur," Rourke responded, tossing back a filthy martini.

"Haven't you had enough?" I asked him, while guzzling my fifth sixth seventh White Russian.

Aggressively swishing his tail back and forth, he snidely mocked me in a nasaly tone. "Haven't you had enough?"

"Listen. It's your turn to roll," I responded calmly. In my head, though, I was screaming, "GO TO JAIL, JAIL, JAIL!"

After a quick toss of the dice, he exploded, "WHAT THE...MOTHER FFFFFF...GO TO HELL, MONOPOLY!" He stormed away from the table and Gus calmly placed Rourke's thimble into the jail cell on his behalf.

"He'll be back in a minute," explained Gus. "We've been friends a long time. He just needs a breather."

"I'll give him a breather," I said, chuckling. "I toss an air biscuit his way and see how he enjoys them apples!"

Suddenly, and without warning, MCGRdC hopped onto Elmar's chair and began nuzzling him. Clutching her rosary to her chest, she began chanting under her breath, "Te deseo. Te necesito. Debes ser el mío...". Elmar, equally flattered and confused, whispered, "What are you saying to me?"

"Nothing! I am just praying the rosary. Don't get so cranky!" Maria Carmen Gabriella Reyes de Caserez oozed, licking her lips lusciously.

"Kukka, I'm uncomfortable..." Elmar pleaded.

"She won't bite," I explained. "She will lick you up one side and down the other, but no bites."

Turning to Gus, I asked, "When will Rourke be back? It's his turn again and I'm growing impatient. I've texted him, I've called his cell phone. I know he's just in the other room, but don't you think he could be courteous enough to respond at all?"

"I'LL RESPOND WHEN I FEEL LIKE IT!" Rourke bellowed as he re-entered the room. "I got your text messages...I was just busy self-soothing and did not have the time to entertain you, Selfish! Now, am I out of prison yet?"

"Rourke, I understand your position and think you could even be justified in your response to Kukka," MCGRdC cooed," but I would ask you to reconsider your impression of her. Yes, she can be demanding. Yes, she can sometimes be intensely selfish, but she is worth having around...even just for her celebrity connections!"

"Whatever, you liberal snot," Rourke mumbled. "I suppose next, you'll tell me I'm supposed to be tolerant of...the filthy Siamese!"

"Have you even met a Siamese cat before, Rourke?" challenged MCGRdC in the most gentle and sweet version of her voice.

"No, but I've heard enough about them to know they are sneaky and shady. Let's just say I wouldn't want to be with one...not because I think they'd hurt me physically, but because they might hurt my reputation!"

Elmar, Gus and I stared at the debating duo in shock.

"Can't we just play a friendly game of Monopoly in which I take all of your money and make you cry like sissy-babies?" I pleaded. "Come on...doesn't that sound like fun for me you?"

"You know, Kukka...why don't you just text me anything you want to say. That way I can ignore you and not feel guilty." slammed Rourke.

At this point, Elmar decided he had enough. "I'm taking off, you guys," he muttered, grabbing his two pair of boots (it was raining) and rabbit-fur coat (not made from rabbit pelts, but with rabbit fur that had been shaved off of rabbits who had recently joined the military to protect our home soil while all the human soldiers were being sent to Iraq).

"Elmar..." I desperately pleaded as I flashed my multiple nipples in an effort to convince him to stay.

"Put those things away, Kukka. Save them for another day when the climate of the room is less tense."

Before I knew it, Maria Carmen Gabriella Reyes de Casarez and Rourke were at it again.

"You can not build a hotel on your property unless you've already built four houses," she explained, while reading the rules from the box top.

"Good freakin' GAWD!" roared Rourke.

In an attempt to placate Rourke, Gus said, "I'll take Baltic Avenue off your hands for $100, Rourke. That's $40 more than the face value!"

"I want $250 for it."

"What?!" I exclaimed. "You bought it for $60!"

"I did some work on the house and amped up the curb-appeal, so it's appreciated greatly since I purchased it."

"I'm done," sighed MCGRdC. "Rourke, can you please hand me my coat?"

"I'm not touching a Mexican coat!" blustered a clearly irate Rourke.

"What did you just say?" I hissed.

"I said I didn't want to be tainted from touching a Mexican coat!" he retorted. "I'm not saying anything I wouldn't say about a Siamese coat..."

Steaming, I stood and flipped the Monopoly board over, scattering the dice, thimble, tiny car, top hat and Scottie dog (chosen by Gus, of course) to the floor with a deafening shatter. "I can not believe you just said that to my Mexican friend. And, by the way, I have Siamese friends and they are some of the best cats around!"

Shrugging, Rourke gently lifted his paw to stroke the ginger fur on his head. "Whatever."

Turning to Maria Carmen Gabriella Reyes de Casarez, I said, "Get your things. We'll leave Rourke with his backwards way of thinking."

But Maria did not hear me. Clutching her rosary and raising her right, front paw to her lips, she spit and muttered thrice, "Mayo tus descendientes tienen los cuernos y los pitchforks de su padre..."

He'll get his.

Canine Chaos

So, the Agent is staying with her parents for awhile and brought us from our castle to theirs last week. Remember when I spoke of Uncle Cooper? Remember that he is a DOG?!

The first night was pretty eventful. I, of course, dined from my dish as soon as I was released from the diamond-encrusted feline transporting device most commoners refer to as a "cat carrier." My husband, Brach, ran and hid under the spare room bed. Of course.

After exploring the digs upstairs and christening my litterbox with exceptional excrement, I decided to venture downstairs. As I pranced preciously down the 18k gold, winding staircase (kidding...we were not at home). As I lumbered down the berber covered stairs, I felt someone staring at me.

Now, you know I am not a stranger to stares of admiration. This, however, seemed more...intense. Acting as if I owned the place, I strolled across the living room and stared right back. He approached cautiously then stopped, with stumpy tail wagging foolishly.

I stared.

He stared.

I stared harder.

He started moving toward me again and was startled when I hissed at him. I have to say, I was more than pleased to see him jump and run the other way.

Unless he is useful in helping me obtain treats, I really don't see his purpose. He barks maniacally at the Fed Ex truck, the newspaper delivery girl, the furnace repairmen, and anyone he thinks is approaching the house (including people walking by).

Wait! He may have a purpose after all! I recently fired my body guard due to sexual harassment (he now has a restraining order against me, court date pending). Maybe this crazed and protective dog could take his place. Because he is my uncle, I love him but I'm not in love with him, so I think I can keep my paws off him

For now, I have demanded he be caged in my presence. I am not taking any chances until I know I am safe around him.

After all, I am still The Empress.