Fleece whore.

So I'm not sure if I've told ya'll this or not, but Jack (the Kitty) is a total ass. And no, not just your run of the mill bad kitty. No. He's a pure and total asshole. He's anal about being touched. He likes to bite, for sport. And he will scream at you for no reason. Often.

In addition to these amazing qualities, he's also a big fan of the fleece blanket. He has his very own blanket (a recent replacement, because I accidentally threw his away while moving) that we keep spread out in his very own chair. He loves to make biscuits on the fabric (aka molest it) and will camp out on it for hours on end. He only moves when there is direct sunlight shining through the windows on to the floor (where he immediately goes to "sun") and when someone is walking down the stairs (so he can try to trip them).

The other night, I was being all snuggly with my own fleece blanket in my own chair. And what does this little shit do? Propels himself into my chair no fewer that 5 times. He has HIS OWN BLANKET. Wtf?

I told my Mom about it. You can't see her last response, but she said, "But that's my grand kitteh!" Whateves, Mama. He's a shit. And a fleece whore.