Petunia’s Future as a Flying Feline

Sometimes, I’m given to bouts of melancholy. The blues, if you will. Pity party, table for one.

This is particularly true when I think about life without my sweet Princess Petunia Potpie. I know cats don’t last forever. Particularly overweight, lazy cats like my little Toons. And when I think about it, I get quite sad and teary eyed.

Then, I read stuff like this: “Cats away! Artist turns his dead pet into flying helicopter after it is killed by a car.” And well, I’m filled with hope. There are alternatives to losing your best friend forever.

Apparently, Dutch artist Bart Jansen turned his deceased pet into a work of art. He had him stuffed (taxidermied?) and then teamed up with a radio control air craft expert to turn the dead cat into a helicopter.

At first I thought, how stupid. The cat was killed by a car, so why not turn him into a car? That would be truly ironic justice.

But then, I saw the dead kitty’s name: Orville. He was named after famous aviator Orville Wright. So of course the cat was meant to fly. As the Orvillecopter.

All I can say is that Orville was a lot sleeker than Petunia. I don’t think four propellers would work for my little tons-o-fun. The Petuniacopter would need a jet engine to get off the ground. She’d be more like a Petunia-bus. Probably a 787, no less.

Dreaming of being airborne, Toonies?

Jansen also has future plans for his furry flier:

“He added that Orville will soon be ‘flying with the birds’ stating: ‘Oh how he loved birds. He will receive more powerful engines and larger props for his birthday. So this hopping will soon change into steady flight.’”

OK, I love my cat a lot, but we do not give her birthday gifts. I’m not even sure when her birthday is. She was a stray. Her one and only birthday was the damn lucky day when I found her tiny, screeching furball self.

I Googled the Dutch artist, but surprisingly, couldn’t find anything else by him, just story after story about the Orvillecopter. Nothing on a price either.

I predict a run on taxidermists everywhere from people wanting to take their stuffed pets to the next level. As it turns out, there are a lot of websites promising “pet preservation.” The fine folks at Perpetual Pets promise a Loving and Lasting alternative to cremation or taxidermy. Nothing on the website suggests they can make a pet airborne.

I think this cat got caught in a propeller.

Xtreme Taxidermy sounds like it would offer XTREME pet preservation, maybe something along the lines of schnauzers on snowboards, or a Siamese on a skateboard, but while they promise: “Your pet will look very natural and even close up it will be difficult to tell any difference at all except for the lack of movement.” Not good enough. I’m looking for lots of movement. Preferably aloft on wind currents.

The impressively named World Fauna Pets Forever has been featured on National Geographic Explorer, but nothing on motorizing your pet. They do, however, list their prices, which further guarantees Petunia might not get to be immortalized posthumously: Cats (all breeds) Minimum Up to 10 LBS…….$800.00 (plus $10.00 per pound over 10 LBS). At that rate, getting Petunia stuffed would cost about $1,000.

That’s too bad because those pictures of that flying cat really crack me up.

Look at all these dead animals co-existing (er, not really existing per se) peacefully.
Advertisements

Stop Eating Each Other!

Fellow civilized people of the world: Can we just make a pact right now? Can we just agree not to eat each other? Please. It’s getting ridiculous. And I don’t appreciate our government having to waste time and taxpayer dollars reassuring people that there’s not a zombie apocalypse happening.

Although, I must say, the evidence FOR a zombie apocalypse is starting to stack up. (for the record: I’m not into the whole zombie trend. It’s really not a cute look.)

I was watching the news on Friday morning and there was a lovely, cheerful story about a young man in Baltimore who killed, dismembered and ate his roommate’s brains and heart.

Listen, I get it: roommates can be totally annoying. They don’t replace the toilet paper, they leave dirty dishes in the sink, they eat your yogurt. But you can’t go around killing them! And then dismembering them. And then eating them. None of that is an acceptable way to deal with a roommate.

Instead, why not ask them to move out? If you keep this up, you’ll never find another roommate and you’ll have to pay rent all on your own. Oh wait – sharing rent is not going to be a problem in prison.

So, if your intent was to cut down on your rent, congratulations. Well played, crazy dude, well played.

Then there’s the Miami Zombie. You know, the young man who ran around naked, attacked a homeless guy in broad daylight and literally CHEWED HIS FACE OFF. For like, 18 minutes. Oh, but his girlfriend assures us he was a sweet, well-mannered man who carried his Bible everywhere. And, she thinks that he must have had a voodoo curse on him.

OK, I’ve made a lot of excuses for my bad behaviors before, but voodoo curse is a new one. I’m going to have to add that one to the excuse arsenal.

Actually, the conventional wisdom is that he was high on bath salts. One of my New Year resolutions was to not snort bath salts. I knew they were dangerous. I called that.

Not to be outdone, some low-rent porn star from Canada is on the run after murdering his Asian lover with an icepick, uploading the video of the murder to the Internet, dismembering the man and then mailing a foot to Canada’s Conservative Party and a hand to the Liberal Party. Ah, so I see, it was a bipartisan killing. Members of Congress could learn a lot from this young man. Let’s give him a hand. Or a foot.

And I thought Canadians were a peaceful lot. Oh, and speaking of peaceful cultures, a Swedish man suspected his much younger wife of cheating on him, so he flew into a rage, cut off her lips, and then allegedly ate them. He’s not blaming bath salts or voodoo curses or anything. He said he did it because his honor had been compromised.

In case you’re wondering, (because I was) he ate the lips because he didn’t want them to be sewn back on. That is some seriously premeditated crap.

Check it, my little Swedish meatball – I, too, have a bad temper and am a pretty jealous person. I would definitely cut a bitch if I found out she was trying to make Lingonberry jam with my man, if you know what I mean.

But you cannot go around biting off your wife’s lips. That is a surefire way to divorce court, where she will take all your Ikea furniture (and your money) and you’ll be reduced to rooming with that dude in Baltimore. And he is NOT a good roommate.

But my absolute favorite zombie-cannibal story this past week is actually all about self-mutilation. A man in Hackensack, New Jersey barricaded himself in his house, called the police, and threatened to kill himself. When the police intervened (even pepper spraying him), the man had stabbed himself multiple times (reportedly 50 times) with a 12-inch kitchen knife and then threw pieces of his skin and intestines at the police.

“Ok Mr. Cop, you think you want some of this? You want some of this? This right here? My intestines? Well HERE YOU GO!”

Wow, dude. I guess you showed them. Seriously? Was there nothing else around that you could throw at the police? Maybe a shoe or something. Maybe the knife? What the hell?

If I even get a paper cut, I double over and start howling. I can’t even imagine disemboweling myself. And then flinging my disemboweled entrails (is that repetitive? Are all entrails by their nature disemboweled?) at armed authority figures? Yeah, not this girl.

It’s been a crazy week, that’s for sure. Wonder what next week’s trend will be? How do you top zombie cannibalism and self-mutilation??

With Apologies to US Weekly: Stars are NOT Just Like Me

Why are they not like me? Because I do not have a hero complex.

But apparently, celebrities do. There has been a rash of Hollywood heroes lately, and I’m not talking on screen.

Yesterday, Brad Pitt rescued some extra from being trampled on the Scotland set of his zombie apocalypse film. They were filming a scene in which 700 extras tear through some square in Glasgow, and a woman fell down, putting herself in danger of being run over by her fellow extras.

"I save women and then I eat their brains."

I’m going to tackle this story from two perspectives: One, if I was Brad Pitt, I would have just left her on the ground. Seriously, those extras get PAID. They can make up to like, $50-$75 a day. And, it IS a zombie film…what did you think would happen?

I cannot believe Brad Pitt put himself in danger’s way like that. If you want my advice, better not to risk your pretty mug, Brad. You’ve got like, a whole village of children to support. Poor guy is even thinking about selling his house, for crying out loud.

Second perspective: If I was that extra, I’d suck it up. A “badly grazed knee” really isn’t that big of a deal. Believe me. I know of that I speak. Hell, in the last week alone I’ve lived through an earthquake, a hurricane, a nasty, phone-damaging fall (no Brad Pitt to my rescue, thank you very much), and homelessness. You need to toughen up, buttercup.

Moving on. Kate Winslet saved Sir Richard Branson’s 90-year-old mother from being cooked to a crisp after a fire broke out at Branson’s paradise home in the Caribbean last week.

Mkay, first, Kate, that house was struck by LIGHTNING. Obviously, some higher being or whatever isn’t too pleased with Showy-McBraggerson Sir Richard Branson. And he’s the one who wanted some deserted-island retreat with no firemen or firehouses nearby. Let Naked-Sleeping-Cactus-Hugger Richard Branson rescue his own damn family!

"I swing through the air with a harness just like a super hero."

Also, you had your own two children to worry about, on top of yourself. You are a highly paid actress. Why would you put yourself in the midst of some burning inferno whilst on–ostensibly–a relaxing, family vacation.

And, your family is a tiny bit accident prone. According to this interview, your dad lost his entire foot during a boating accident when you were 11-years-old. His entire foot. How are you going to wear Manolo’s when you don’t have a foot? Did you even think about how selfish that would be to designer shoe makers?

Much better to not get involved. Speaking of “getting involved….”

Everyone’s favorite dude from the Notebook (which I’m proud to say I’ve never seen) broke up a fight on the streets of New York last week. Of course, there was a camera nearby to record the whole thing.

"Even in my hipster striped tank, I can bring the peace."

According to E! News:

“The Crazy, Stupid, Love actor physically restrains one of the guys after dropping his grocery bag and eventually helps diffuse the situation and escort him away.”

Listen, Ryan Gosling: First, I hope there were no eggs in that grocery bag. Second, I know you’re new to New York, but everyone knows that it’s a very dangerous place. You really don’t want to be a Mr. Buttinski in New York fights. I know, I know, it was a fight over a piece of art, which is kinda funny and doesn’t seem too serious. Nevertheless, artists can sometimes be a tad bit kray-kray. Something about all the fumes in the paint. I don’t know. The point is, don’t mess with fighting people if you can help it.  

According to an eyewitness, you went a step further and gave one of the guys $20 to settle up the dispute.

“The gentleman was like ‘He stole my painting’. So he [Gosling] gave the guy a $20 and asked if it was settled. He took the money out of his pocket and said ‘If that’s what you’re fighting for, here you go’.”

Oh, Gosling. Badly played indeed. Don’t you see? Now you are a total target! People are going to start breaking out into fisticuffs whenever you’re around in the hopes of getting some of your Notebook stash! Ever heard of a slippery slope, my friend? Cuz you are heading directly towards one. Better start carrying a wad of $20s. 

I’m really not comfortable with this whole “hero” trend. If our celebrities keep putting themselves at risk like this, we might have less of them to entertain us. And I do not approve.

I’m mostly kidding. Mostly. The truth is: I’m quite a big Butt-In-Ski myself. It’s actually one of my 99 vices. I always put my nose where it don’t belong. I’ve been known to yell at people on the metro who were rude to other riders. I also inserted myself into a potential rape-in-progress in a club in Tokyo one time. But our celebrities are special. They shouldn’t be engaging in heroics. The price is just too great.

But they shouldn’t act like Matthew Fox either. I don’t care how drunk you are, “Party of Five” dude (another show I never saw), you should not hit a female party bus driver. You weren’t invited to the party. Get over yourself.

Separate but related: celebrities should also not be spitting water on people. I’m looking at you, Cherub-in-Training Shia LaBeouf. I don’t know what your beef is with Marilyn Manson, but according to MTV, you guys are collaborating on some video or book or something, and that is definitely not the way to treat your friends.

Also: Shave that stupid beard.

"Hey, hey, don't get too close. I might spit water on you like a fountain."