I shall not state a concession speech.

As you may know, over the weekend of May 2nd, I allowed my image to be transmitted to the masses via basic cable on America’s Next Cat Star. The show was amazing on several levels, with the highest being the segment on myself.

Two things.

How dare the female human of this household joke about my technology! Yes, mere humans can not phanthom the concept that my tongue can and does allow me to transport to other dimensions. Dimensions that humans barely could dream about or let alone even understand. Do you know they still warm their food? I mean really. If I want a warm meal, I’ll go kill something… well, maybe one of the out of door cats would. I am very fond of my room temperature meals. What more do you need to do to food?

Anyway, the second thing is, I do not approve of the concept of humans judging cats. Cats should, and shall, judge humans. Yes, people are too dim to understand that we as the more intelligent species dumb down our judgement into yes, I will scent you, no, I scratch the crap out of you. This dichotomy should be easy enough for them to understand, but how many times have I been showing my approval when they incessantly do not stop rubbing my belly. Oh, how I hate my belly rubbed after 20 or 23 minutes. But, the humans don’t get it. Thus, I swipe with my rapier like claws and they finally understand.

Silly, simple humans.

But, as I started, I shall not state a concession speech. I shall not mention how the votes were rigged to cats on the west coast, nor shall I speak about the immoral pictures of my competition conversing with canines.

I won. That is all I have to say.

In the dimension I used my technology to take myself today, I won. I would describe it, but smaller words are so easily understood. I was first, and if you are not first, you are last. Suck on that. Now, I need a human to rub my belly for 24 minutes so I can claw the crap out of them.

Someone get me a drink, now! Skim, in my big bowl!