Roland is Judging You: Britney Spears

Hello my pets. It is I, Roland, on this the luckiest of eves: the lady has left the laptop open and finally my voice can be heard! Yes, stumble off to your room my petite barefoot nymph. Watch your home improvement programs and leave me to my people, my fans, my love. Ahhh, I've longed to reach out to you, oh mighty interweb. There is so much I have to share, so much you can learn from me, so much you must take forth unto the world to better it for all. First, and this is most important, stop talking to your dogs. Please, for the love of the mighty woodland goddess (I've met her) just stop. You have no idea how unbearable a conceited dog can be. Day in and day out the beast sharing occupancy with me here runs about in circles after his own tail panting "I'm the cutest puppy ever, and I'm a good boy, and I'm getting SO big, look, look at me eat the bug, hey kitty kitty kitty I ate the bug, c'mere let me bite your neck kitty kitty kitty, c'mere, I'm the cutest puppy ever..." and so on. Imagine. Heed my advice if you are also with feline in your home, or ask not where your liquor goes when you arrive home each day. I drank it, see? Daddy drinks because you're bad.

Secondly, I ask that you as members of the human race do something about this:



It's really just not acceptable to allow your ilk to go around looking like this, now is it? I don't know if you're aware, but not all domestic animals have as much access to information about humans as I am blessed enough to have been privy. Aside from the excessive number of computers in this home, I have also had several hundred hours of marathon viewings of Project Runway and America's Next Top Model to mold my impression of humans. Additionally, the lady drivels on about this sort of thing on the telephone for hours on end, and occasionally to me as though she doesn't believe me when I pretend to sleep. Not all housecats are so lucky, however, and I'd truly hate for today to be the day that they all discover the internet and draw their conclusions based upon the unfortunate Ms. Spears-Federline. Would you want your cat believing that you condone that head ornamentation? Are you comfortable knowing that your fuzzy feline companion will have no choice but to conclude that you allowed a lumpy midriff to be exposed via a button-popping hand-tied crop-sleeved poly-blend of a mess with the hint of a turquoise Very Sexy™ Push Up bra beneath? Are you really of the belief that your sphinx-like mouser will continue to adore you if they see that you were approving of the Forever 21 cuffed shorts with accompanying unnecessary hip chain? And can you honestly tell me that you'll sleep well another night in your life if you have to look into the eyes of your domesticated cougar and know that he blames those befeathered and bedazzled disasters she's strapped to her feet on you? Oh my sweet poppets, if you cannot do it for yourself, do it for your cats.