Pat Hatt's Blog, page 99

On This Day Cheery May Go Away!

The cheer may be gone as many fall for the con. What is the con? The con that will dawn. That is just grand. Aren't I confusing in my land? That is nothing new. Now on with it for you.

Support desk, what is your issue?
Do you need more than a tissue?
Wait, that is not right.
I have to direct you to our site.

There you are.
Help was on par.
Have a nice day.
That's all I can say.

Ring, ring, ring.
A button pressing fling.
Hit one for this.
Hit two and don't miss.

Maybe try three.
Better hope you don't have to pee.
If you hit four,
You'll get a world tour.

The time it takes to answer that is.
We've got more important biz.
Solitaire I need to beat.
Plus I also need to eat.

Listen to the tune.
You can dance like a loon.
That will pass the time.
Your carrier may charge you more than a dime.

Support desk, what is your inquiry?
Better hurry before your expiry.
That is not a death threat.
We just have many in the net.

We don't have all day.
Out with it we say.
Oh, that is on the site.
Go there and everything will be alright.

I hope we helped you.
I know that hope is true.
Come back any time.
To not to would be a crime.

Ring, ring, ring.
Have a button fling.
Press one, two or three.
Enjoy the button spree.

Some may be looking for help with things they bought. Whether returning or fixing a broken lot. This is what they may find. Don't you love the help desk for mankind? Hmm, maybe they need one as a whole. There the brain dead could take a stroll. Another post that could be. We shall see. Don't you love dealing with them with each pass? They are so annoying to my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

A Merry Trick That Is Ick!

Pat tried to get us to dress up on this cheery day. To that we said a big no way. Is is cheery or merry? Beats me, go eat a cherry. How did he do it? He pulled some tricky shit.


He went back,Back at our shack,And said we did it before.Pfffft like I'd buy that at our shore.

He even tried Cassie.He wasn't tricking that lassy.She just ran under the bed.One way to get nothing on her head.

Then he said he'd make us look dumb.Pffft does that bother my rhyming bum?Nope, not one bit. Isn't that nose a hit?

Cassie didn't care.Are you even aware she's there?That snowman is too happy.He'll be the one to make all yappy.

 So he had to settle for this.He made up our Christmas bliss.Meanwhile we are going to knock over the tree.I hope a great day is had at your sea. 
Oh and payback is sweet. It is ever so neat.See? We can do it too.Even quote a movie with gas at our zoo.
 Did he really think we'd fall for that? Did the fat guy find you where you are at? Maybe he can bring Pat better photoshopping skills. He could use them to pay the bills. Yeah right. May scare the rats away at night. Hope a good holiday is being had at your merry or cheery pad. I will now go find Cass so we can get to knocking down that tree that is in front of my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

The Eve Has Fell, Time To Sell!

Christmas Eve is here. Let's all give a cheer. It's the eve of a day. Yesterday was the eve of today's fray. Can we go all eve eve eve eve at every sea? Only be 365 eves that need to come to be. You could count them down. Or maybe just skip town.

The one eve.
It's ready to thieve.
It's lonely and sad.
More eves were rad.

It's eve time.
Boom, Christmas chime.
Now 365 eves are here.
Ready for next year's cheer?

An eve to weave.
Weave of the eve.
Would that be eves?
Watch the falling leaves.

Snow you say?
Not here on display.
Nope, not one bit.
I'm not on the eve of that shit.

Does that peeve?
I got more than one eve.
Where is this going?
Pffft damned if I'm knowing.

I'm just writing on the eve,
The eve that will soon leave.
There are still plenty though.
Many more eve's to go.

Valentines Day was two eves ago.
Still plenty of eves in tow.
No fat guys in diapers at least.
Who needs such a beast?

Can you do the math?
How many in the eve path?
Too drunk for it?
Was that some good shit?

Might be a bit early though,
Especially if some give #1 a go.
Then they will leave,
Preparing for the eve.

Are the eves even?
Are you believe in?
Are the eves odd?
Think my eve is flawed?

Are you even still here? Did you run in fear? Was it even or odd? Wait, that's math, dear God. I know you said that. 319 eves from Christmas for the cat. I can still say Merry Christmas Eve though. Want to see all those eves in a row? I'm far too lazy to give that a pass. Maybe in another 365 eves I'll do it with my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Can't Post At Your Coast!

The cat isn't seeing many posts this time of year, just the average holiday cheer. What could be the cause? Why is blogland on pause? Yeah, I'm not that naive at my sea but it works for a post spree.

I can't post.
There is no time.
Need a ghost,
Or maybe a mime.

Kids all happy,
Pets here and there.
Nothing is sappy,
All around care.

Meals to make.
Stuff to clean.
Visits to take.
Everything serene.

What's a blog?
Oh yeah, that thing.
I'm stuck in a fog,
The phone gave a ring.

More visitors for me.
Isn't that grand?
Love all this glee,
All across the land.

Shoppers to shove.
Deals to grab.
Whoops, not so much love,
But a deal I did nab.

Things to wrap.
Things to buy.
Then there's a nap,
For the last minute guy.

Next we unwrap,
Then we visit more.
Everyone will clap,
From shore to shore.

Back to the nap.
Sleep is in need.
That jolly old chap,
Gets credit at every feed.

Oh yes, the blog.
I remember that.
Cleared is the fog,
Time to chew the fat.

About the size of things as holiday time springs? Being far ahead helps the cat with that. We can get it done where we are at. But hope a merry time is had from pad to pad. Plus we hope you don't get any Christmas gas and, if so, avoid my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

An Attack By A Pack!

The cat has ducked for cover. You better do so too with your lover. Don't step out of the house and block any holes big enough to fit a mouse. Why is that? The elves want all to go splat.

We were Santa's slaves.
Working so much we never get laid.
Living in tiny over stuffed caves,
Making toys and not getting paid.

Now the day has come.
Let Santa go and do his own work.
We will no longer be his chum.
No more slaves for that fat jerk.

We would chop off his head,
Ending that twinkle in his eye.
But that fat guy can't end up dead.
We can't say we never gave it a try.

So with much regret,
There is only one thing to do.
Our plan has now been set.
Another Santa slave will never come due.

We must end all life.
We must kill humans everywhere.
From husband to kid to wife.
No one we shall spare.

Then his toys will go nowhere.
None of them will be in need.
No cookies and milk to spare,
And we can go do the deed.

The twinkle will be in our eyes.
We'll be the jolly ones.
Without humans his legend dies.
But we won't use guns.

That wrapping paper you tear,
It has a special gift for you.
It has gifts to spare.
We added something new.

With one simple touch,
You will become sterile.
Then you can't do much,
And will croak in single file.

But if a few win out,
And still can pop out the kids.
We'll corral them like trout.
Other species can then take bids.

See what I mean? Those elves are going to end us at every scene. Will you hide away? Watch what you touch at your bay. How much do you think a bear would bid for you? Maybe an alien wanting you for their zoo? That is such a mean plan to come to pass. You've been warned of the elf plot from my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Round Fifty Three Is As Cheery As Can Be?

The search engine nuts still find me. They must like my sea. What does that say about the cat? Bah, we don't need to get into that. We'd be here all day. Right! On with it at my bay.

sparkly hot farts 30 times

Damn, what did you eat? It sure wasn't neat.

hazards are everywhere

That they are. Like you at a bar?

cat hairball on wood stove

You want to fry one up? You're one sick pup.

"you little igits"

Anne get lost? Is that going to cost?

five goats in boat

It's only one. Sorry to burst your fun.

cat birthday picture with words

Because no words is a shame. Have to have a name.

pjathatt

Spelled wrong. We'll pjlay along.

holybackwards

Yloh what you want? Some kind of ghostly haunt?

sell me your fur

No way. Have some litter from my tray.

furry spotted wigs

Guess that was your second choice? Did you find a wig in which to rejoice?

good gracious cats

No such thing. Unless it was more of a reaction you did sing.

curtains for you, Pat

Pat has a threatener out there. His back better beware.

nimal art at night

Is it glow in the dark? Check out the dog park.

bed eating people

Either way that one goes it will cause woes.

And with the winner for today they sure like to play. Play with clay? Beats me at my bay. As usual I don't want to know. Feel free to guess though.

Clay woman tiits on me
Maybe statue love? I guess it could fit like a glove? Might be covered in pigeon poop though. I could  be wrong and it could be crow. I'm just a cat, not an expert on scat. And so round fifty three has come to pass. Gotta, not really, love the search engine nuts who find my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

A Fact Filled Cheer Sure Is Near!

The cat wanted to keep the holiday cheer rolling so we are going to do some fact strolling. By the end of this you'll be as cheery as can be. You can trust little old me.

Fresh water kills you quick.
Like getting conked with a brick.
Salt water takes 10 mins to kill you.
Drowning now, what to do, what to do.

Some mothers don't have a hanky,
But they got the baby from some panky.
So how do they get rid of the snot?
They use their mouth to suck out the whole lot.

Use that office mug?
Suck it back with a chug chug?
20% of them contain fecal matter.
Hmmm, a yummy poop platter?

Have nice clear skin?
That sure is a win.
Humans shed 40 pounds in their life.
Gotta love sharing those skin cells with the wife.

Pucker up under the mistletoe.
Let the emotions flow.
There are only 1000s of microorganisms in your yap.
I wonder if they take a nap?

Disneyland is the place to be.
It's so happy from sea to sea.
Ever notice the dust there?
Ashes of the dead are dropped off without a care.

What was that?
You fart where you're at?
We breath in a liter a day.
How do they measure that anyway?

20 pounds isn't much, right?
Even if dropped from a big height.
But 20 pounds of pressure can pop a lad's ball.
I'm not talking about one you bounce at your hall.

This one is disgusting as can be.
It involves your pee.
People use urine to whiten teeth.
Staple that to a Christmas wreath.

And before you go to the loo,
Keep this in mind at your zoo.
Each year 40,000 toilet related accidents occur.
Those drunks and their vision blur.

Aren't you still cheery? Isn't that pee thing eerie? How would anyone this day in age think that? Blah, is all that can be said by the cat. There are actual sites on it too. Some people have no clue. The snot sucking would be nasty as well. We'll never ring either bell. Now I'll go pass some cheery gas out my ever so cheerful little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Come On Down But You May Frown!

Santa pops down chimneys so they say. But we see him in a clean red suit at every bay. At least all the depictions shown. What is really in there would change your cheery tone.

The fat guy falls,
After you deck the halls.
Down the chimney he goes,
Maybe burning his toes.

But that's not all.
For he may stall.
Dead guys have been found.
Into such a chimney he won't abound.

Of course he may be happy,
While you take your umm nappy.
For 100,000s have also been found.
You may hear a cheery sound.

He won't have to shop.
For when he goes for the drop,
Shoes he may find.
Found has been many a kind.

A burglar Santa may be.
Taking instead of giving to thee.
But he may find a vice versa one.
Yep, a burglar gave a chimney a run.

Dead raccoons, birds and even cats.
Now that would cause spats.
Glad we have no chimney here.
Santa won't find those near.

A Santa suit got stuck.
What the umm fluck?
There are two Santa's now?
That takes away the wow.

Even has been burnt toast.
Damn, a screwed up weenie roast?
How did that get in there?
Someone have toast to spare?

And unlike most,
Including the toast.
This one is not so rare.
Bird shit galore so beware.

So while most are rare,
Santa may need to take care.
There is more under foot,
Than the typical soot.

Ever find something strange in the chimney at your sea? Hear of any of the ones used by me? Wouldn't it be nice to find a fortune hidden there? That would bring a cheery holiday to any lair. The cat will stay far away from chimneys though. Bird shit galore is so eww you know. Plus all the other gunk in mass. That all just stirs up the OCD of my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

It'll Fit Because I Say It!

Some humans really can't take it they were wrong. They sing the denial song. That and say the same crap over and over. I'd much rather deal with rover.

It will fit.
I say it.
So it will fit.
Takes no wit.

Whoops, dinged the car.
I still got par.
So it fit.
Insurance will buy it.

Whoops, I broke the door.
But done with that chore.
It fit into the room.
Who needs a door to loom?

Whoops, can't move away.
For the truck I did pay.
I got the small one.
Hey, can say we are done.

Whoops, says the hick.
Lost it some slick.
The poor sheep fixed him.
Hey, got some lovin on a whim.

Whoops, says the clothes.
They cause woes.
Shove it in and boom.
Closet sprouts like a mushroom.

Whoops, says the box.
Shove in those extra socks.
Box breaks all around.
Look! A bed for a hound.

Whoops, says the head.
Almost ended up dead.
Stuck between the stair rails.
Love the sound of wails?

Whoops, you're a cat.
Forget all of that.
We'll fit anywhere.
Had to add that at my lair.

It still fit.
See my wit.
I made it fit.
Don't be a nitwit.

Are you a denial case? Do the "it will fit" you embrace? Then you end up with more of a mess. Come now, you can confess. The cat won't make fun of you much. Maybe just a touch. It is the right fit to come to pass for my ever so fit little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Kid And Child Run Wild!

So the cat hears all, we know that at my hall. The strangeness that can come is always amusing to my little rhyming bum. I suppose that can be strange too. A rhyming bum in a zoo. On with it. My rhyming bum may soon need to shit.

Childish we've done.
With a adultish run.
That we sure know.
Unless you forgot at my show.

How adultish of you.
Less brain cells in view?
All that smoking the good stuff?
Boy, adultish is rough.

Back on task.
Pull back the mask.
Put down the flask,
For I just have to ask.

A 40 year old acts dumb,
Boy, they are a childish chum.
That is just so bad.
"Society" deems that not rad.

The cat would tell them to stick it.
But you all know that bit.
It still had to be said.
Stick it in their rear or head.

Many holes in a head.
They all couldn't be said.
I don't have all day.
Right! On with it at my bay.

A 40 year old gets taken.
At night they are shaken.
Stolen away in the night.
That sure isn't alright.

Just like childish isn't alright.
But kidnapping is more of a fright.
Did you catch my drift?
Are you adultish and swift?

You can't be childish.
No, that can't run wildish.
But you can be kidnapped.
Is your mind now trapped?

So kidish is the winner?
Kidish isn't a sinner?
Damn, my adultish worked for me.
I figured out kidish is the way to be.

Ever notice that? It just had to be picked on by the cat. I'm sure some 40 year old isn't a kid, but if taken, they still get a kidnapping bid. Adultnapping too wordy? Guess that got flipped the birdy. Maybe I'll teach a kidish class? Bah, I'm far too lazy a little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.