Time for another OTB Caption ContestTM.
Yahoo! News – World Photos – AP
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Time for another OTB Caption ContestTM.
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He’s a superintelligent cat who has vowed to track down and expose the bootleg genehack lab that condemned him to a cruel sentience without thumbs;
She’s a famous stripper/revolutionary/spirtualist of the pre-Castro Havana nightclub scene literally haunted by both a routine reincarnation gone horribly, horribly wrong and a secret Castro undeath squad;
And he’s a guy who likes to wear red t-shirts.
And together… THEY FIGHT CRIME!!!!!
This pun for the left picture is so bad that I’ve been forced to use a pseudonym, and if JJ tracks down the IP to out/ban me I will be most affronted. But here it flies:
Democrat frontrunner John Kitty examines documents regarding Weapons of Mouse Destruction.
I hate myself for this more than you’ll ever know.
While Chester learned of calculus and the stars and pondered the mysteries, FiFi learned to play the blues and developed a drug habit, pondering only the virtues of the nith life. They become almost strangers to one another … neither wanted to admit what both knew all too well … their love was lost.
I can’t spell either …here’s the corrected version
While Chester learned of calculus and the stars and pondered the mysteries of the universe, FiFi learned to play the blues and developed a drug habit, pondering only the virtues of the night life. They become almost strangers to one another … neither wanted to admit what both knew all too well … their love was lost.
As I sit and bask in the secure knowledge of feline intellectual superiority, reading from my favorite novel, A Cat’s Revenge by Claude Bauls, I only need to look out the window to be reminded of my freakin’ weirdo, tutu wearing, canine neighbor, who goes by the name of Desmond. Desmond’s modicum of intelligence is so near imbecilic levels that he cannot even remember my name, instead he incessantly barks out “Hey You, Hey You, Hey You.†I salivate in anticipation of the day when I shall grab him by the scruff of the neck, knock those silly Paul Schaeffer glasses off his face and say, “Hey MORON, THE NAME PAVLOV RING A BELL.â€Â





