Oxymephorous is:

1. Barely pronounceable, and often grammatically correct


2. A small stripey creature with feigned, fanged, ferocious tendencies


3. The snarky alter-ego of the authoress


4. An imaginary character in a story that has yet to be created


5. Schnerkit.

Snowbound

Audrey here. That's my picture. Not particularly flattering, but one can't always be impeccably well-presented.

Annie has been a lazy bum so I have decided to write her blog for her. And we all know I'm much more eloquent than she is at any rate, although typing is rather difficult for me.

Actually, I was just bored today. She is not around, probably snowbound at Bryon's house, and I am concerned about her being lonely.

Everyone needs to be snuggled. 

Yet she rarely calls anyone. It's been a really long time since the really loud flowery smelling friend with the crazy red fur has been around, nevermind the Nick-person who calls me ratbutt which I think is awfully rude, although he does scratch me behind the ears. Or that girl who used to live here who smelled like the color pink and had that snotty cat. I think she misses her people a little bit, but she is stubborn sometimes, and she hides when the weather gets too cold.

I see Bryon though. I like him. He 'specially brings me vegetables to eat and is a very snuggly person.

The phone keeps ringing, yet she doesn't answer. Which is irritating because I am usually trying to have a nap and it hurts my ears, and sometimes it sounds like the doorbell, or maybe someone bringing me a treat. I get all excited about nothing. And she just sits there with her yarn and cookies and knits.

I tried to steal a cookie the other day. She wasn't looking and it was there, as big as my face, and I could just feel the sugar on my whiskers. She whapped me before I could drag it into my hiding-spot.

mmm, cookies.

mmm, lettuce.

I think they went someplace fancy last night because she was clomping around the house at sevenish reeking of that schmanzy froofy-stank she says is called Channel Number Five or something, although I don't watch tv, so I have no idea what she is talking about. I hope I get leftovers when she gets back. Or scratches behind my ears.

I was really grumpy at her last week because she hung up this TERRIBLE art on the wall right over my house, it looked like some sort of fingerpainting of a turtle? or a shopping cart? or an epileptic soup bowl? in awful garish colors. And i know this even though I'm quite colorblind. But believe me, it's absolutely horrid. It's a good thing noone visits, because I wouldn't want guests to mistake the proximity of this atrocity to myself and think it is somehow my creation. I also feel I have a right to be an Art Critic,  because not only do I have exquisitely sophisticated tastes, but I also live with someone who teaches visual expression to equally horrid untalented artists. It's an intolerable situation.

As for Annie, I like her drawings, they taste good.

Ta ta for now-