A Long-Suffering Siamese

I still cannot believe that I was less successful at that silly cup-and-ball game than that... that.... that squirrel-obsessed, morbidly-obese, narcoleptic moron they call Shane.

I'm sorry. It's not like me to lose control and resort to such base language. However, I cannot help but resent the irksome conclusion that the humans came to after that foolish parlor trick. As if drinkware and rubber spheres could ever be an accurate indicator of IQ. Hah!

After time I know I shall recover from the shock. And, it can't take long before that buffoon does something truly idiotic which reminds the people of just how many scoops shy of a clean litterbox he is, if you catch my meaning.

Until then, I shall wait. Perhaps a good book will soothe my troubled soul.

Yours,
Charles