Aunt Leticia drinks all the cooking sherry, Grandpa and Cousin Harold argue politics, Cousin Wendell tells us about the latest cult he just joined, and I get stuck babysitting Aunt Brunhilde’s kids, Rollo and Yappo.  That’s it, man; I’m outta here.

Just read this leaflet, Marilyn T. — it’ll totally change your life.

The steps of the ninja warrior must be as silent as the morning mist upon the ground.  To avoid detection, he must be as still as the midnight air.  He must be as fearless as — GAAAHHH NOOOOO GIANT HAND GIANT HAND RUN AWAY!!!

Behold, the power of Teh Qte:  When we featured the custom pet portraits of Valerie Leonard, cuteologists swarmed her site — but many wanted a more affordable way to enjoy her creations.  And Valerie delivered, with a series of “Animal Ancestor Portraits” note cards, including a set of four holiday cards (sample below).  They’re historical — and hysterical, so check ‘em out.

Were they a sparkly, shiny, impossibly perfect shade of green?  If so, “Soupie” is using them for eyes, and you can’t have them back, so neener.  But what you can have (and you may want to take a step back, lest the cuteness knock you clean out of your cubicle) is the jaw-dropping, heart-stopping power of the…

CUTE OVERLOAD ULTRA-EXTREME EYE, NOSE, AND TINY TOOF-HANCE!

Photo by Ryan F., submitted by Janna V.

Seriously, I’m so organized, it’s scary:

• I always wash myself in a set pattern (right leg, left leg, right arm, left arm);
• I sort my dead mousies by length, then by color, then by tail-to-torso ratio;
• I sleep in the same sunbeam every day, using a weighted algorithm factoring seasonal solar variance against known shade points to determine each day’s optimum floor position and angle of exposure.

So why do people keep saying I’m disorganized?

I dunno, Pam W., just a feeling.

Day 17:  I have established base camp at the foot of the treacherous south face, whose sheer, forbidding vertical surface has claimed many an explorer before me.  With the monsoon storms just days away, I must make every precious minute count as I inch my way to the fabled Ceiling of Coyolxauhuiehecatl — and history.

I claim this post in the name of Erin C.!

Heeerrrrrre, birdie, birdie, birdie. At some point, you’re going to need a drink of this niiiice water I brought you. Maybe not in the next minute, maybe not in the next hour. But I’ve got alllllll day, boys, and you’re the only thing on my calendar.

The early cat gets the bird, Karen M.

The piano is my forte, and I love to lie down in it,
It suits my laid-back at-etude, I don’t care how you spinet.
When I’m keyed up, can’t stay upright, life’s tempo gets too taxing,
I lie for just a minuet, and presto! I’m relaxing.

I’m never too Bizet to take a nap where notes are rolling,
When melodies float like the breeze, this console’s quite consoling.
So play whatever song you like; Chopsticks to Clair de Lune-a,
For where there’s a piano, I expect piano tuna.

We all octave a kitty like that, Kristina V.

I don’t get it. What does she do? What do you mean, she just sits in there all day? Can you tap the glass or something? She has an Artist’s Statement??? Because as far as I can tell, she’s neither an artist, nor does she make any kind of statement. You know what? Here’s my statement: You come to my house tomorrow and I’ll charge you $40 to watch me sit on the couch all day. How’s that?

Heavy on the tannins, Marco B.

Starting right meow, we’re posting kittens whenever we like. We’re not waiting for special holidays or Caturdays to roll around. It’s meow or never Mother’s Day! Hurry up meow!

Not so funny meow is it Amy S.?