Yeah. Nice try, Bumble. You can try to schmooze Santa all you want, but no amount of sitting on his lap is going to convince him of your innocence. Unless, of course, you’re trying to give that poor dude a lap dance. In which case tell that fat, judgemental bastard I want a PS4.
So, imagine my surprise this morning when I opened the fridge for some sweet tea. (Yes, sweet tea. Y’all don’t drink unsweetened do you, because…ewwww).
Apparently Bumble had a craving for a midnight snack and couldn’t get himself out afterwards. I think I may have found out how to keep him from getting into things at night. Heh, heh, heh.
I’m not sure if Bumble made a new friend or if they’re having some sort of epic boss fight in a really strange place. Whatever is going on has drawn repeated interest from my cat, who inevitably photobombed every single picture I attempted to take.
Maybe we should just see this as my cat being the ultimate bad guy and everyone on the ladder is trying to escape…including the elf who for some reason is trying to stick his finger up Santa’s ass. I’m not asking.
We have been out of town this weekend, and that damn Bumble climbed right in our luggage to tag along. He could have stayed home to play with the cats, but noooooo. No privacy, I tell you.
Apparently the climate in which we are currently in is a tad chillier than he wants, because this morning we found him trying to warm himself up.
Little fucker almost caught himself on fire because he was stupid and didn’t remember his surgery where he was fully wired from head to toe.
Anyone want a warm, slightly charred smelling Bumble?
So last night apparently Bumble had a date.
Unfortunately, my phone ate my SD card, so I can’t show you his new girl.