Austin writes: Shut. Him. Up.

I hate Donncha.

I really do. That little shit is being a complete arse, just because he’s on a diet. Do not fret, I am not on a diet, beings as I am a nice trim Austin Moody-Murphy and perfection cannot be changed, but Donncha is, and he is moaning about it. All. The. Frigging. Time.

Now, I am not fat, because I eat really slowly. Like, Darcy and Donncha have finished, had a nap and are playing together by the time I’m done. I’m very precise. Each chunk must be chewed a set amount of times, and I will insert long pauses into my eating routine. It’s only polite. Only complete social idiots like that Donncha wolf down food the second it hits the plate. I, on the other hand, take my time and appreciate the various flavours. This is just further proof that I am refined and Donncha is a moron.

As he’s hungry, he won’t shut up. Always miaowing, always getting yelled at by the humans for peeing on their bed. Really, what is wrong with the boy? I myself have been here four years and have never once used anything but the litter trays as a toilet facility.

And I am appreciated. Today, the female human said: “God, I wish the twins were as sensible and normal as Austin.”

Which is quite nice, really. I may allow her to pet me later.

Austin writes: They did it then.

The humans did it then. A blog. But I’m just lead to wonder… who the hell cares? I won’t be updating much, I have a world takeover to plan, you know. Oh, and if anyone wants to send me some seafood stuff, comment, I’ll give you the address, and I’ll move you from the “Definitely Destined To Die” list to the “Perhaps Not Quite So Destined To Die” list for when the revolution comes. And believe me people, it’s a coming.