Okay okay. You guys made it clear in the comments that you wanted to see the cats, even though they’re fat. There’s nothing else much going on right now, so I’m going to introduce you to my other babies. You have to promise not to make fun of them for their weight, because they’re very self-conscious about it right now.
Up first: Josephine. Josie was my very first cat. I got her when I was 20. My longtime boyfriend was moving out of state for school, and I was devastated, and I decided I would get a cat for company. I adopted Josie from a rescue when she was just a baby, and I’ve had her ever since. Wow, that’s over six years now. Josie is an absolute sweetheart. She’s very quiet, not very demanding, and just loves to be held. For years she’s slept right on top of my chest all night every night. Josie is to me what Holly is to Hef.
Second: Ashley. I got Ashley when I started grad school. Since I was gone so much, I wanted Josie to have a friend. One of my girlfriends was fostering kittens, and I was over at her house and met Ashley, and decided to take her home with me. Josie pretty much raised Ashley by herself, since I was rarely around. Ashley is the Ice Queen. She’s very independent, and doesn’t like to be told what to do or where to be. She never sleeps in bed with me; she likes her own space. She also likes boy humans much better than girl humans. She’ll never come sit with me, but if I have a guy over she is instantly on his lap. She has always been the tiniest cat, just super-skinny her whole life. She is not so tiny anymore.
Once, on a road trip from LA to Phoenix, I thought I’d lost her. I stopped at a bank, and when I got back in the car, I couldn’t find Ashley. I had three people help me search my car, which was a tiny Eclipse. We looked everywhere, including the trunk and the luggage. We also searched the property all around the bank. She was nowhere to be found. I was hysterical, but after hours of looking, there was nothing to do but leave my phone number with the bank and get back on the road. I was crying my eyes out on I-10 when Ashley popped her little head out from the back seat. To this day, I have no idea where she’d been hiding.
And last but not least: Maxwell. I never intended to get a third cat. Two was plenty. But after I broke up with another boyfriend, and was really depressed, a neighborhood boy came by my apartment with Max. He’d found him on the street, and he didn’t know what to do with him. Max was super skinny and very sick. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. I took him in, glad to have a new man in my life, and planning to get him healthy and then put him up for adoption, but he was such a sweetheart I just couldn’t part with him. When I took him to the vet, they actually found a microchip on him and said they had to call his owner and return him. I cried for hours, until the vet got a hold of the owner, who said Max had run away months ago and he’d adopted a new cat, so I could keep Max.
Max is a diva. He likes attention all the time, and he’s the only one of my cats who cries regularly. There’s been more than one night where, at 3 a.m., I have desperately wanted to throw him out the window. But I can’t, because he’s my baby. Once he got healthy again, he was always a big cat, but this is definitely the biggest he’s ever been. We think he’s about the same age as Ashley: about three years old. He and Ashley dated for a little while, but they seem to be less loverly now. I think it’s because Ashley put on so much weight. Max sleeps at the foot of my bed every night, except for 15 minutes right after I go to bed when he gets to be on my chest. Then he has to go to the foot of the bed and Josie gets my chest for the remainder of the night. They worked out this system long ago, after many months of fighting.
So now you’ve met all the Beet Babies: Josie, Ashley, Maxwell and Leo. I know, I know, I’m raising a small zoo, but I’m a very maternal person and it makes me very happy to take care of all of them. I love them all very much!
June 16, 2008 at 12:23 am by Evil Beet
Kate Hudson is hanging out in Toronto with Lance Armstrong and his three kids — son Luke and twin girls Isabelle and Grace. On Fathers Day, she took the kiddos out to get some ice cream. Damn, sucking up to the kids already? Kate must be really into this dude.
[Image via Splash]
June 15, 2008 at 8:43 pm by Evil Beet
I thought I was, and then I found this photo.
I have no idea what Whoopi Goldberg is wearing or why.
But I will tell you this, very clearly, so that there’s no confusion: I would very much like to have sex with Adam Duritz. Call me, Adam.
June 15, 2008 at 8:29 pm by Evil Beet
Mary-Louise Parker narrowly avoids an upskirt in the audience of the Tony awards.
She looks fantastic, though.
And this is the first and last you’ll hear about the Tonys around here. Ah, live theater. As accessible as it is entertaining.
June 15, 2008 at 8:25 pm by Evil Beet
Tobey Maguire and wife Jennifer Meyer take little Ruby Sweetheart out for a stroll in West Hollywood.
Ruby is very interested in her hands.
And the tank top tucked into the jeans that Jennifer’s rocking? I actually really like that look. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I think it’s because I have stomach envy. I mean, some women store fat in their arms, some women store it in their legs, some in their butt. I store fat in my stomach. It’s like my body’s Fort Knox of fat. No matter what I do, I can’t lose my tummy fat. Thus I could never look cute like that. Maybe that’s why I like that look so much.
June 15, 2008 at 8:23 pm by Evil Beet
I am home. And not a moment too soon.
My cats are HUGE.
And not just in comparison to my tiny dog.
I have no idea what my father has been feeding them in my absence. Whole sheep, I assume. They are enormous. They have all doubled in size. Ashley, the littlest one, has always been very, very small, even as an adult. She still has the teeny tiny head, but now it sits atop an enormous monstrosity of a body. It looks ridiculous and hilarious, honestly, and I’d find it way more funny if I weren’t so concerned about her health right now.
This is terribly ironic, as my father is a physician who specializes in nutrition and weight loss. He’s had a great deal of success over a 30-year career of working with humans. But he needs more practice with cats.
The cats don’t even seem to be upset about the dog. This is because acting upset would require movement, and they are too fat to move. They just kind of stare at him and sigh loudly. Max managed a little swat at Leo before collapsing. This is so sad.
I am not going to post their photos yet. I am embarrassed for them. They are coming home to Seattle, being put on a serious diet and exercise program, and then they will make their Evil Beet debut when they are cute again.