We must have been the ONLY family that had a 4th of July Picnic WITHOUT the Holiday's staple menu item! SERIOUSLY, who the fuck makes chicken mirabella for the 4th? To me, Independence day is a burger, hot dog and grilled chicken day (Sorry to all of you sexy vegetarians out there, you just miss out).
Anyways, that was the LEAST exciting moment of the weekend!
As I promised, I would do a more detailed entry about the fucking cat. So here it is. My idiot family decided to bring our lovely, but very, very fat cat, Roosevelt, to the mountains with us.
Anyways, because my sister, and apparently my step dad, are all cat obsessed, away we went to Washington with the cat. That's right, my cat crossed state border lines. In the car, the cat got dehydrated because A. he's a fat ass and B. it was 95 degrees that day, so the first thing he does when we get to the mountain house? Go to the coldest, darkest place he can find to cool off. Under the deck, which was pretty much under the house.
Thus, the first 4 hours of our vacation were spent lying on a VERY dusty ground calling the scared, pissed off kitty cat to absolutely no avail. The event culminated in your friendly neighborhood politician (well, at least least MY friendly neighborhood politician) crawling UNDER the deck and house, grabbing angry cat and pulling him to safety very, very slowly. Both came out absolutely covered in dirt and neither one was all that happy, but hey...what's a vacation without a little...dilemma.
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