So bummed
Yeah, hi. Whatever.
Never was a vacation so violently and disagreeably interrupted as mine was last night. I’m still in shock over it all. I mean, you’d think a guy could get more than 58 hours of consecutive sleep, but nooooo. Oh no, I have to go and be licked nearly to smithereens by the grossest, foulest, vilest creature on the face of the planet. I’m put out about it, really I am. It makes a guy want to go find a nice, warm closet to hide in.
On the half-full side of things, my humans are home again. They’re really great, my humans. They’re decent, solid, salt-of-the-earth types, you know? They respect me and they understand why I’ve just gots to get a good purr on when I see them after they’ve been gone for a while, and they’re totally cool with cleaning my litter box right away. Gettin’ a little freshness in there, if you know what I mean. Not that *I* cause it to be unfresh, you understand. The girlz outnumber me by far, so don’t you go and forget about them, ok? Good.
My one human’s mom (who’s also one of my most devoted readers) gave me a present. It’s a statue of what’s supposed to be me, or a cat like me, but it’s grossly exaggerated. Seriously— this statue is really fat. It’s fat! I’m all about accepting gifts of a rolly-poly nature, but if this statue is supposed to represent me, Max, then I’m yet again put out.
I’ll let you be the judge.
My mini-me? I think not.
365 to the Max 
You need to Max-whack that statue (in fact you look about ready to in that picture)! You’re looking quite svelte these days, not sure what your human grandmother was thinking… maybe she hasn’t seen you in person since you got that Chuck Norris Total Gym installed in the closet?
Sorry your vacation is over and that you got a seriously icky lick-down when the ‘annoying one’ arrived. At least your litter box is clean.