Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys) is an absolute hoot, albeit a cruel one.
But what do you want from a cat?
“Don’t look,” she hisses, her paw covering her mouth as she sips delicately from the Mai Tai she insists she have with lunch. “But I think I saw that woman over there suspended by guy wires and sandwiched between Mighty Mouse and a high school marching band at the last Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.”
Of course this sort of thing always makes me spit my beer out with laughter, even if it is inappropriate.
But what do you want from the world’s most dangerous kitteh?
For she truly is dangerous.
How else would I describe her, aside from “dangerous”? She is a small-pawed and symmetrically-striped kitty, a stealthy and bright-eyed kitty, a kitty capable of lifting your wallet while winding herself about your ankles.
A kitty with sharp eyes and a sharp tongue.
Sure we’ve had our issues. She has repeatedly cost me money (usually in the form of financial settlements in lieu of litigation) and she once dangled a gerbil on a string out the front window just to see how high the neighborhood cats could jump (for the record, the answer would be “quite high, really”).
We are sitting at Psycho Suzi’s, on the Tiki Deck. Summer has arrived, and with it Liza Bean’s penchant for umbrella-ed drinks. She sips, the straw held delicately between her little black lips. Tiny white teeth appear and disappear as she talks around the straw.
“I mean, really,” she says. “Are those pajama bottoms? One goes out in public, and one dresses for the occasion.” She laughs behind one well-manicured paw. “How much will you give me to go over there and tell her naptime’s over?”
How much will I give her? Nothing, of course, as I’m afraid she’ll do it for free.
The last fight she got in cost me the money I was saving for a flatscreen TV.
“Oh, never mind,” she purrs. “It’s too lovely a day.” Her eyes, half-lidded in the afternoon sun, glow an emerald green.
“We have cream at home, don’t we? I do so enjoy a little cream in the afternoon.” She sighs. “I just love these little outings. We really should do this more often.”
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25 comments:
Liza Bean Bitey, the Great Catsby.
LOVED this post.
Your Liza Bean should get together with my Alabama Mae. They could probably dominate the world together!
The Great Catsby?! Dagnab it, Pat! That's perfect!
Tail-Kinker, I suspect Liza Bean is part of a large "social network" of like-minded kittehs. All I know is that I get regular e-mails from the Seychelles thanking me for my recent business and I don't even know where the Seychelles ARE. !@#$ing cat!!!
Pearl, when did you start doing drugs?
Seychelles has the best f'ing catnip... say my Ziggy
Don't make me miss my cats, Pearl.
Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys) I am jealous of your social life and skills
Pup looooves pussycats ... He needs to have lunch with Liza Bean ..
Liza Bean Bitey should have been the fifth Designing Woman.
Flea, more to the point, who's got the good ones? Bueller?
furiousBall, ixnay on the atnipcay!
Douglas, sorry! I tried to post pics as well but all I have are .jpgs and the lousy site wants .pdfs... sigh.
Scrappy Doo, Liza Bean is a sophisticated cat with sophisticated tastes -- which does not prevent her from yakking up garden "greens" and reading "OK" magazine.
A Broad, Liza Bean Bitey loves the pups. In theory. Honestly I'm not sure she's met a dog, now that I think about it...
Steam Me Up, and to think she turned that gig down! (She thought it would kill her big screen career...)
Oh how I love that Liza Bean Bitey!
Out of curiosity...Did she fall for that lie you told her the other day?
You know, about that visit to the pet dentist for a 'teeth cleaning' - when you actually had them secretly imbed a GPS chip into her shoulder?
My Mister Whiskers is clueless about his chip. I now know he's been frequenting Radio Shack and Barnes & Nobles.
What a geek.
=]
Sounds like my kitty, Finnigan "Walking Eagle" Ballentine. His mood changes by the minute. One second, he deeply in love with me and purring sweet nothings in my ear. The next minute, he's trying to take me out at the ankles. None of the tricks that they teach you at the vet. work on Finn. He's above all that book learnin' nonsense. Here he comes now. Will he be friend or foe? Always the little man of mystery, he is. TOWP
Wonderful post! I couldn't help but feel like it was Stewie Griffin from Family Guy speaking instead of Liza Bean...hilarious!
Of course don't mention this to her. Lord knows I don't want any trouble from her.
Haha. Liza Bean sounds like a true Southern Belle. Is she a member of the Red Hat Society? If she ever calls you "Dawhlin" or uses the term "Isn't that just precious," you'll KNOW she means something else entirely.
When we brought Pup home, at 3 months, we already had a 17 year old cat. I was worried about how it would go. Baby pup was all wiggles and sniffing and happy, Cat looked him over and then proceeded to wash him.
They slept together for the next year.. until my little old man died at the age of 18. Pup mourned as much as we did ... if I say "Where's the pussycat?" he will run around the house whining.
I don't do that though, it just makes me cry.
I think we need a cat :)
Funny feline post :-) As the saying goes, "You never own a cat....they deign to live with you!"
Thanks for popping over to my blog today!
This is great, you had me laughing out loud! An inventive, and highly amusing post, Pearl. She sure does sound like a character :D
I wish my furries and I could have such rich and civil conversations. But they tend to revolve around 'feed me,' pet me,' 'love me' and 'if you come any closer I shall dismember you.' And of course Zimba, who simple goes 'duh...' like a third generation inbred.
Liza Bean deserves her own cartoon strip -- or at least a guest spot on "Family Guy."
I love how your mind works.
I think I may have met her once at a happy hour for teachers at a mexican restaurant here in Austin. Is she that cat who always wears a signature red skirt and nose-ring? I could not believe the mouth on her! She called my Olive a bitch. Which, I guess, to be fair, technically she is...
Bless her heart!
She sounds like the female version of Riley T. Wondercat (of the St. John's Wondercats, late of Dublin). He could take you down with one paw behind his back. The only thing between me and a scratchy, bitey death is cat treats...
There ought to be law against pajama bottoms in public. And saggy pants. Too bad it didn't work in Flint, Michigan.
Loved this post! I believe she might have been one of my college roommates....
Too funny! Too weird!
I do love me a good Liza Bean Bitey tale!
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