Yon grit big, piebald moose issa always agoin oon aboot how haird this bloggy is ta writes. I kinna say tha I sees the difficulties in scratchin down a buncha taughts as they pop inta yer noggin.
Waily waily waily! "Oh noes! Issa so haird!", he always asayin'!
Now, I'm no sayin that coomin up wit a wee idea is no a walk in the heather, mind ye, but it kinna warrant all the scratchin-O'-the head and tappin-O'-the paws that he's always a doin.
Anyhoo, I dinna come ere to gabble on aboot the McSquiggins. What I reely wanna talk to ye aboot is dat grit big ol stinky gingercat called Ivan.
Tis an amazement ta me that a mancat wit such bulk in his body can 'ave such a lacking of matter between his earholes. Aye sure, ye might be athinkin dat a wee little kitten such a meself may have nay experience enoof ta be placing judgement on one aged such as he. Weel, lemme tell ye summat Jimmy, I knows enuff to tell ye dat when da grit God aboove wassa handin oot the gray matter, Ivan musta been asleepin under da couch (probably adreamin aboot chasin slow moosies and menacing socks).
Oh, Imma no sayin dat Ivan has nay any commendable qualities. There are a few benefits to livin wit him....
When ye need a door opened because the bigguns have locked ye oot once again, he makes a grit batterin ram dat no door can withstand. Ye only need to git him excited by atellin him dat they be ahidin food under dere pillows and then just stand ye back and watch the doors go aflyin.
If ye 'ave a need to hide evidence of a crime ye may or may 'ave no committed, simply squirrel awae da evidence in da folds O' flab that span the area between his forelegs. Ye could hide an entire haggis in there, but ye wouldna want to because he'd probably eat it in his sleep.
He also makes a good "goat-O'-scapin" when ye find yourself in the needin of one.
****Squiggy here, I am tinking dat Lennys is talkings about a "scapegoats".
Shaddup ye overgrown panda cat! Yon readers know wut I be gabblin aboot! Ye said dat dis wassa my poost to write, so waddle off and lemme get back to it!
Now, weer was I? Oh aye, I was talkin aboot Ivan makin a good goat-O'-scapin. Ye see, Ivan's face is always asportin a look of perpetual guilty confusion. So all ye need to do is ta make sure that Ivan is in the general vicinity of any shennannigans ye may be up to. Then when da bigguns ask who wassa breakin stuff, ye simply don yer innocent kitten face an mebbe give yer wee kitten haid a nod inna direction of da grit dunce.
Boot, I kinna say dat I doan love the big lummox. He's verra soft and warm and if ye punch him up a few times, he makes a verra good bed.
So dats aboot alla got te say fer now.
See? Dis bloggity ting isna so hard.