The Bright Side of Life: Carton canadian?...woww

February 08, 2010

Carton canadian?...woww

Cine a îndraznit sa puna asta pe locul meu???
Mmmm, miroase bine!

Trebuie sa amestec mirosul pachetului cu al meu.

Ne scuzati, dar trebuie sa ne înmiresmam peste tot!

Dupa ce am inspectat continutul, am primit noua mea locuinta... unde ma relaxez,

ma uit peste pervaz, urmaresc inamicii!!!

ma ascund de mami-cucu??!

ma dezmierd,

ma joc,

fac nani..si am grija sa nu cumva sa-mi ia careva locul!!

A venit fratila! Sigur vrea în casa mea, dar n-are nici o sansa! Casa mea!

Mi-a stricat si somnul de frumusete!

Si eu vreaaaaauuuu!
Maaamiii, spune-i sa ma laseeee!

Sa-i ard una?

Nu, mai bine ne jucam!

Cîta bucurie poate face o cutie!
Te pup, si sa ai o zi frumoasa!
Thanks, Uma!

Attached Image

6 comments:

CamiWittFebruary 8, 2010 at 12:38 PM
Miha, se pare ca este o boala a tuturor pisicilor...cartoanele. Ai facut vreodata proba cu Katzenminze??? A noastra iubea mirosul si noi ne prapadeam de ris. o saptamina minunata! Cami
ReplyDelete
Replies
CamiBFebruary 8, 2010 at 2:24 PM
Ce scump e Mike si ce fatuca trista are. Ca un copil caruia i-ai luat jucaria.
ReplyDelete
Replies
UmaFebruary 8, 2010 at 5:44 PM
Se vede ca Felix a simtit mirosul Mayei..pentru ca inainte de a-l face, grasunica mea de Maya a stat in cutie!
ReplyDelete
Replies
MayaFebruary 8, 2010 at 8:19 PM
Cami,si ai mei iubesc cartoanele,pungile...si tot în ce se pot baga.
Katzenminze,la asta Mike se da pe spate,îi place de numa.Felix nicio recatie.Berry,musafirul nostru,si el e lesinat dupa catnip!

Feix în schimb reactioneaza asa de la Fencheltee,sau menta normala/nu de mîtze :D
ReplyDelete
Replies
MayaFebruary 8, 2010 at 8:21 PM
CamiB,Mike,stie sa faca si teatru,la fel si Felix.Dar Felix e mai barbat în privinta asta,pe cînd Mike e dezmierdat ca o domnisoara :D
ReplyDelete
Replies
MayaFebruary 8, 2010 at 8:22 PM
A iubit cutia aia,dar cîndva a trebuit sa o arunc,ca arata ca naiba.A "locuit" mult timp în ea,s-a jucat acolo,a rupt-o...arata jalnic :D
ReplyDelete
Replies

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

ABOUT CATS

☆

Pentru a face baie unei pisici este nevoie de forta bruta, perseverenta, putere de convingere... si o pisica. Ultimul ingredient este, de obicei, cel mai greu de obtinut.

Stephen Baker

☆

Pisicile par sa mearga pe principiul ca nu strica niciodata sa ceri ceea ce vrei.

Joseph Wood Krutch

☆

O pisica are propria ei opinie despre fiintele umane. Nu spune prea multe, dar iti poti da seama si singur ca nu ai vrea sa auzi tot adevarul.

Jerome K. Jerome

☆

Daca esti demn de afectiunea ei, o pisica îti va fi o buna prietena, dar niciodata o sclava.

Theophile Gautier

☆

Oamenii care urasc pisicile se vor reîncarna în soareci in viata urmatoare.

Faith Resnick

☆

Poezii despre feline

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Le Chat

Viens, mon beau chat, sur mon coeur amoureux;
Retiens les griffes de ta patte,
Et laisse-moi plonger dans tes beaux yeux,
Mêlés de métal et d'agate.

Lorsque mes doigts caressent à loisir
Ta tête et ton dos élastique,
Et que ma main s'enivre du plaisir
De palper ton corps électrique,

Je vois ma femme en esprit. Son regard,
Comme le tien, aimable bête
Profond et froid, coupe et fend comme un dard,

Et, des pieds jusques à la tête,
Un air subtil, un dangereux parfum
Nagent autour de son corps brun.

— Charles Baudelaire

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The Cat

Come, superb cat, to my amorous heart;
Hold back the talons of your paws,
Let me gaze into your beautiful eyes
Of metal and agate.

When my fingers leisurely caress you,
Your head and your elastic back,
And when my hand tingles with the pleasure
Of feeling your electric body,

In spirit I see my woman. Her gaze
Like your own, amiable beast,
Profound and cold, cuts and cleaves like a dart,

And, from her head down to her feet,
A subtle air, a dangerous perfume
Floats about her dusky body.

— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The Cat

Come, my fine cat, against my loving heart;
Sheathe your sharp claws, and settle.
And let my eyes into your pupils dart
Where agate sparks with metal.

Now while my fingertips caress at leisure
Your head and wiry curves,
And that my hand's elated with the pleasure
Of your electric nerves,

I think about my woman — how her glances
Like yours, dear beast, deep-down
And cold, can cut and wound one as with lances;

Then, too, she has that vagrant
And subtle air of danger that makes fragrant
Her body, lithe and brown.

— Roy Campbell, Poems of Baudelaire (New York: Pantheon Books, 1952)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The Cat

My beautiful cat, come onto my heart full of love;
Hold back the claws of your paw,
And let me plunge into your adorable eyes
Mixed with metal and agate.

When my fingers lazily fondle
Your head and your elastic back,
And my hand gets drunk with the pleasure
Of feeling your electric body,

I see in spirit my personal lady. Her glance,
Like yours, dear creature,
Deep and cold, slits and splits like a dart,

And from her feet to her head,
A subtle atmosphere, a dangerous perfume,
Swim around her brown body.

— Geoffrey Wagner, Selected Poems of Charles Baudelaire (NY: Grove Press, 1974)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Les Chats

Les amoureux fervents et les savants austères
Aiment également, dans leur mûre saison,
Les chats puissants et doux, orgueil de la maison,
Qui comme eux sont frileux et comme eux sédentaires.

Amis de la science et de la volupté
Ils cherchent le silence et l'horreur des ténèbres;
L'Erèbe les eût pris pour ses coursiers funèbres,
S'ils pouvaient au servage incliner leur fierté.

Ils prennent en songeant les nobles attitudes
Des grands sphinx allongés au fond des solitudes,
Qui semblent s'endormir dans un rêve sans fin;

Leurs reins féconds sont pleins d'étincelles magiques,
Et des parcelles d'or, ainsi qu'un sable fin,
Etoilent vaguement leurs prunelles mystiques.

— Charles Baudelaire

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Cats

Both ardent lovers and austere scholars
Love in their mature years
The strong and gentle cats, pride of the house,
Who like them are sedentary and sensitive to cold.

Friends of learning and sensual pleasure,
They seek the silence and the horror of darkness;
Erebus would have used them as his gloomy steeds:
If their pride could let them stoop to bondage.

When they dream, they assume the noble attitudes
Of the mighty sphinxes stretched out in solitude,
Who seem to fall into a sleep of endless dreams;

Their fertile loins are full of magic sparks,
And particles of gold, like fine grains of sand,
Spangle dimly their mystic eyes.

— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Cats

Sages austere and fervent lovers both,
In their ripe season, cherish cats, the pride
Of hearths, strong, mild, and to themselves allied
In chilly stealth and sedentary sloth.

Friends both to lust and learning, they frequent
Silence, and love the horror darkness breeds.
Erebus would have chosen them for steeds
To hearses, could their pride to it have bent.

Dreaming, the noble postures they assume
Of sphinxes stretching out into the gloom
That seems to swoon into an endless trance.

Their fertile flanks are full of sparks that tingle,
And particles of gold, like grains of shingle,
Vaguely be-star their pupils as they glance.

— Roy Campbell, Poems of Baudelaire (New York: Pantheon Books, 1952)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Cats

No one but indefatigable lovers and old
Chilly philosophers can understand the true
Charm of these animals serene and potent, who
Likewise are sedentary and suffer from the cold.

They are the friends of learning and of sexual bliss;
Silence they love, and darkness, where temptation breeds.
Erebus would have made them his funereal steeds,
Save that their proud free nature would not stoop to this.

Like those great sphinxes lounging through eternity
In noble attitudes upon the desert sand,
They gaze incuriously at nothing, calm and wise.

Their fecund loins give forth electric flashes, and
Thousands of golden particles drift ceaselessly,
Like galaxies of stars, in their mysterious eyes.

— George Dillon, Flowers of Evil (NY: Harper and Brothers, 1936)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Cats

The ardent lovers and the stern students
in their maturity, love equally,
the gentle, powerful cats, pride of the family,
they too feel the cold and favour indolence.

Companions of knowledge and desire
they seek the silent horrors darkness breeds,
Erebus would take them for his funeral steeds,
were they able to soften their pride.

They take as they dream the noble pose
of the great sphinxes, reclined in desolate land,
lost, it seems, in an endless doze

Their fecund loins brim with enchanting glitter,
whilst their haunting eyes at random flicker
with particles of gold, like fine sand.

— Claire Trevien

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Pages

February 08, 2010

Carton canadian?...woww

6 comments: