“George Hamilton“. (Also, check out Seasie awards pix and The Twin Peaks Hotel. Worksafe if you like drag queens.)
Or “Georgie” when we’re feeling cute.
Or “Goddamnit George” when he’s clawing the couch.
Or “Blgarglb! Fuck!” when George Hamilton pushes his butt into my face while I’m sleeping.
Thanks AP for the name. We’re going to try it for a while and see where that morphs to.
And for you people who like freaks, I give you Mu Mu Monday.
11 thoughts on “Introducing…”
Come over at 4am and say that.
Eh… George Hamilton is only a kitten. They play when they play.
I met GeorgeHamilton last night while watching Survivor wigth Sharkboy.
He’s just the cutest little thing EVER!
ha haaaa haaaa
(good, that was very goood.)
He’s quite handsome. Be careful though – those barn cats can have all kinds of little parasites. If you see George Hamilton dragging his ass on the ground or constantly licking his anus, you’d best get him to a vet! It’s alright though, there’s no better way to start your morning than sticking a suppository into George Hamilton’s ass…
He is adorable. I was owned by a orange tabbycat named George when I was around 5(35 years ago). His mate was Esmeralda. Two years later, George was taken to the farm to be with the other farm cats as he and Esmeralda were quite prolific…4 batches of 6 kittens each batch in two years. On the farm, that was ok…at home, that was way too many kitties to keep up with and I hated giving them away, but we always seemed to find homes for all the little georges. Ah, the days of kittenhood…when I had big hair as opposed to no hair now, lol, my kittens used to fight each other in my hair while I was sleeping, or try and groom me…so, a butt in the face is preferred to kitten claws in your scalp in the wee hours of the morning, but worth it all the same. Hope to see him again soon!
George Hamilton already so totally OWNS YOUR ASS…
George Hamilton is starting to explore and isn’t crying as much. I suspect George Hamilton is getting use to being in an apartment instead of starving to death in some feild in Southern Ontario.
This morning I sat down on the toilet and got George Hamilton foot prints on my outer thigh.
George is good.
He looks like a George.
He’ll grow into it.
(Man o man he’s a cutie. Looks like trouble! Are the fish still alive?)
I have a feeling–and lordy, I’ve had many a cat–that George is no friggin’ Marmalade.
He was staying across from us that weekend. Nice bloke. Cute puppy.
Cute. So… you know P?
He’s so CUTE! I liked EP’s suggestion of “Marmelade”, but you are George’s human so you would know better what he prefers.