Damn it!

I am such an idiot.

I just noticed that I essentially posted the same thing twice. Stupid brain the size of a walnut! Count to 9, and the world becomes new again. This addiction to the Nip doesn't help, either. From now on, proofread! Is it finally time for rehab?

C'mon! Scratch the itch!

I stand here every morning, looking up at that top shelf, meowing down the hall for attention. I needs me some of that sweet, sweet Nip! The scent drives me mad, and when I'm this close I can practically taste it.
Then I try getting up on the coffee table. Something about having the baggie in eyeshot is a bit of relief; just knowing it is there means sooner or later I'm going to get some. I stare and stare, and get lost in fantasies of opposable thumbs, stilts, and velvet lounge pillows. Why won't they listen and fix me up whenever I want?! Why!?!

All I Need Is A Pinch!

The Nip is kept in this, on the top shelf. If I stand on the coffee table, I can just make out that sweet plastic baggie! It is unbearable knowing that bliss is two feet away, behind a sheet of glass.
And when I get this close to it, I can smell it. Driving me nuts! I stand here and meow and meow and meow, and no one pays any attention. I've got needs! Puddy needs a pinch!