Ralphie got her annual lion cut this week and is looking fly as hell if she does say so herself. She wanted something Miley-esque but still mature enough for business meetings and afternoon tea, which I think we achieved with the partial buzz.
I won’t tell you how much I spent on this haircut because the judgement will be harsh, but I will tell you she swears she’s good for it and will hit me back as soon as her next record drops. She’s been telling me this for seven years so…
Anyway, behold this majestic creature…
I have a full-blown meltdown any time I have to do anything with the cats that involves transporting them from my apartment to anywhere so I definitely cried when I dropped her off, which is totally normal, right? Also this happened in front of a man I’ve been seeing for three weeks which I’m pretty sure is an excellent way to secure at least three more because nothing says mental stability and desire like crying over a cat haircut.
As the resident pushover of the herd, Weaz takes great pleasure in taunting Ralph when she gets her hair cut. It’s truly the only time out of the year when Weaz seems to have the upper hand. She’s all: “Bitches ain’t shit.”
Meanwhile, Tilly does nothing but sleep all day every day and has shifted from sleeping on top of my bed to sleeping in it. I’m working on a documentary about how hard it is to be her.
That’s all I’ve got on the cat front. Here’s another shot of Ralph looking fresh to death.