Paintball. I hadn’t even heard of it until yesterday. It sounds very much like “Pitbull”, so, being a cat, how could I be even expected to embrace the idea from get-go?

Lisa’s cousin Tommy, she seems to have a lot of those, invited us to a paintball session. Well… to be honest, I wasn’t really “welcome” per se but after last week’s painfully unfortunate “belt buckle versus green grapes” incident Lisa’s mom strongly adviced that I wasn’t to be left home alone under any circumstances until further notice.

Paintball was fun although it got a bit scary at times considering the fact that they didn’t have an outfit my size which left me no choice but run around naked… half naked, all the while; not having a gun didn’t help either.

45 seconds into the game Tommy got shot, multiple times, and was out just like that; what a loser. He blamed me for it as well. Yes, I was covering his face but we were under paint-fire and I was trying to hold on for my dear lives. I may have 9 of them but that doesn’t make any of them any less precious.

I am known to be pretty quick so it was no surprise that I didn’t get shot, however, I did get some stains from Tommy’s pathetic outfit. I really, really, REALLY hope that they are not permanent because pink is definitely not my color. It was very nice of Tommy when he offered to pay for my shampoo, I’ll give him that.
Millie

I’ve lost my tennis racket. It had a ’74 custom built rim and turquoise colored wires three of which were missing. I know what you’re thinking, “How could those tiny paws hold a racket let alone manage a backhand?” Let me tell you, usually MY tiny paws are capable of handling much more than YOUR tiny brain could possibly imagine, having said that, however… you’re right.

I don’t play tennis with it, instead I use it when I’m making my ‘famous in certain circles’ Mud Spaghetti à la Millie. Obviously, it’s not a delight that was meant for palates to cherish, distinguished or otherwise. It’s rather a visual carnival for eyes of class that know better. Lisa once said it looked even better than an actual plate of spaghetti. It’s such a shame that the china that I had served it on didn’t make it back to the shelf, though. Oh well… There are still 5 of them left. Who’s gonna notice, right?
Millie

Lisa’s mom says she is the most beautiful girl in the World, behind her back, mind you. What’s that all about? She says it to her father, to her friends, even to her petunias, well actually it was just that one time but still counts, right? In other words, there is no stopping this woman going on and on about how pretty her daughter is.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Lisa and she is NOT ugly by any means but the prettiest...? Hmm… I don’t know about that. I mean… what does her mom base this on? Has she actually gone through a thorough catalog of the Most Beautiful Girls in the World?

Hey, take me for example. I am pretty too. But you never see my mom going around shouting it from the rooftops, do you? Then again… Lisa’s mom calls me “pumpkin pie” when she lets me out in the morning and Lisa shares her carrot cake with me; we’re alright.