As you know, just very recently I have decided to be a sooky la la on Mommy's lap grace her with my Manly presence every morning, like so:
I tell you, she has the cosiest pants (velour!), and that is the SOLE reason I sit on her.
Really.
Well, OK, she's warm. I'll grant you that.
And, frankly, it's the Height of Manliness to show off my shiny Ornj furs against such a vivid background. It would practically be a crime against fashion to pass by the opportunity for such a color contrast.
So I HAVE to do this; it's more like a Mancat Job than a pleasure.
So, even when I turn around and get good and settled in the Leg Canyon™--making biscuits and chirping and purring like a motorboat--I'm always the Epitome of Manliness, despite several malicious rumors to the contrary...
...and damning video evidence of me enduring loving every second of my Mancat Duties.
