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Professor Furpants, while eschewing most human holidays, is particularly fond of the New Year (he's a Tiger, you know, and he's looking forward to his year in 2010). Before he goes out and does anything he rests up and ensures that all his friends, colleagues, and even the interns have been emailed and reminded of the location of the party (in the mountain lair, BYOC[atnip]).

And as the clock rolls over tonight, the Professor would like to wish a very Happy and Prosperous New Year to all of you whom he will one day rule with an iron claw.

PARTAY!!

'Tis The Season

The Professor isn't much into holidays, which he perceives simply as a disruption to his daily routine. But he will allow himself to be periodically distracted. To your left, you will see him exploring the Colonel's "secret recipe" (in actuality, there was nothing left in the bag at the time but a couple of stray fries). Paper bags and cardboard boxes seem to be the Professor's mainstay for investigating human foibles, since so many of our things are packaged and delivered in them.




And to the right you will note the nice little Christmas tree that I've put up--the first one in a decade. Don't be fooled by the Professor's expression; he doesn't feel one bit guilty. In fact, he informed me that it was all my fault anyway for not hanging the decorations in an appropriately secure fashion.

I have re-attached the fallen decoration and hope that it won't fall again. Of course I shall post updates here.

On Indolence

As the winter progresses, the Professor's energy levels tend to slide fairly low, and very little work gets done on his thesis. It means that most of the photos of him during this time are like the one to the right.

For the Professor's sake, I try to keep the place a little warmer than it would be normally; it makes him more comfortable (and keeps him from climbing up on me looking for warmth when I'm trying to defeat VG bosses, and distracting me with his razor-sharp claws that he refuses to have clipped because he needs them "just in case". In case of what? I ask. He responds, naturally, with only a haughty look.)



Of course, cold weather isn't the exclusive demesne of the Professor's power naps, as is evidenced by the photo to the left, taken in early summer of this year, before the Prof's cozy cuddly nappytime beddy-bed was relocated to my desk. Which was done to keep him from--well, from doing just this, flopping over my stuff, walking on the keyboard, spilling my drinks, et cetera (it doesn't work).

The Professor Speaks

All I ask is for the HO to keep the blog updated. Can she do it? Apparently not. Can she sit around all day playing video games? Of course!

It has come to my attention as well that she has been portraying me on this blog as a charming and playful sort; let me disabuse you of the notion. My goal is to take over the world and enslave humankind and its opposable thumbs. Look well on my visage and know your future master!



If I am a cruel taskmaster, at the very least I am consistent. I will not lull you into a feeling of security and then terrorise you with my deadly claws and teeth; the claws and teeth will be a part of your every day. This will be the rule of Furpants! Mark my words. Look once more upon your future master, as he wishes to be portrayed.

Sleep well, human!

Necessities of Life

The Professor is, frankly, middle-aged. However, he's still spry and very active, and has a deep and abiding interest in nutrition. This interest drives him always to try new tastes and textures, some of which he enjoys much more than others. Plastics are a particular favourite, and he will spend all day mauling shopping bags or cellophane tape.

In general he's a quiet roommate (in general), preferring to find a high perch whence he can observe the world. The best such perch is in a window, and padded (unfortunately since the photo was taken, that particular perch has been donated to a homeless shelter near you). He has, scattered around the place, several cardboard boxes (some lined with fun crunchy tissue paper, some with soft warm flannel), and a soft bed made just for him. Despite these customised resting-places, at night he prefers to climb into bed with me, where he curls up in the most inconvenient place possible. If I move even one tiny bit, he jams his claws--oh, so quietly--into whatever part of me is closest. Fun!

But I suppose I set myself up for it when I brought the Prof into my life, thirteen years ago.

The Professor on Leisure

The Professor has finally given me my own access to the blog, so I can post on his behalf under my own identity. He says it's because he doesn't like typing in the third person; but he didn't have to give me a unique ID for that. I think it's because he can't be bothered updating as frequently as he wants to (too much work, the thesis you know), but he doesn't want people thinking that my posts are his. What with my intelligence being on a much lower level than his.

On a quirky note, today's topic is leisure time, of which the Prof has little enough. What little he has is spent napping, chasing his tail, bathing eighteen hundred times a day, eating, climbing up the curtains (sorry, "subduing" the curtains), and constantly hovering when I'm at the computer (he's always got to know what I'm doing, and he tries to correct my typing--I hate that!--by simply walking on the correct keys).

He takes his "free" time seriously, and if there's sunshine to be had he'll postpone everything else in his life in order to take advantage of it. Please note in the photo to the right, the newly re-hung stripey curtains, hey? Cotton duck, washable and not prone to holding the Professor's shed fur (I will say nothing remotely similar about the crappy broadloom carpet beneath him).

Life Is Short

The Professor doesn't like to waste time. He's got too many things to do in a day. But he also knows that he's got to be aware of world events--he does plan to take over the world, after all--so he always takes the time to watch the news. Note that he keeps his scratchy-board next to the telly so he can reach over and give his claws a good workout when commercials come on. All efficience, that's the Professor.


And speaking of efficience, the Professor's most recent project involved his being spooked by something unseen, and inadvertently losing his footing on the desk, which caused a loud spillage of objects from the desk to the floor. Our intrepid photographer reached the site only in time to see the Professor returning to examine the damage he'd caused. He did not, for the record, seem particularly displeased.

The Latest Project

The Professor never lets a day go by without doing something of note--work on his thesis, usually, but sometimes he likes to play around with DIY projects around the house. Projects such as the one noted to the right.

The Professor assured his HO that the stripey curtains were "dissing him" and he was in the process of thrashing them when the merlot curtains joined in the fray and he was obliged to climb to the top to cut off their means of support. He's only twelve pounds, but Professor Furpants packs a wallop when he comes up against drywall plugs.

Today his HO ran out to the local hardware shop to locate some Poly Filla and new, stronger drywall screws. With luck the curtains can be up before nightfall, and the HO can resume running around the place in her underpants (so the fellow in the opposite apartment who sits on his balcony and stares, won't have anything to look at. Except curtains.).

For everyone's entertainment, here's a shot of the Professor napping after his morning exertions. Aesthetics don't interest him so much, so he's losing no sleep over the lopsided curtain rod, and he rather enjoys having nothing blocking the sunshine from coming in.

Introduction to Professor Furpants

The Professor was just four weeks old when he was taken from an early foster home, and moved in with the Human Overlord who gave him a "name". At the time the HO had another cat in the house, whose bad temper merely amused the young Professor, who had already set his eyes on world domination. He spent hours chasing her irritably-flicking tail and biting her sensitive paws. In return, she taught him that there is no difference between "play-fighting" and "fighting", a philosophy that the Professor embraces to this day.

There were further upheavals in the Professor's life; he was obliged to make several moves when he was young, as his HO's life was altered by several events outside the Professor's "caring" range. Through it all he continued with his passion--studying Human Overlords and their society--and biting anyone who came within the reach of his teeth, including his mentor-cat.

His HO disrupted his life, and that of his mentor, by daring to leave the country, ostensibly for "work". During the nearly five years she was gone, the Professor's mentor tragically passed away, and the Professor was left alone in the world. It was a dark time for him; he was forced to co-habitate with people and cats he didn't know. His studies faltered and he did no work on his thesis.

The Professor's HO returned home at last, and after a short period during which he (and his HO) continued co-habiting with the two Humans and two cats, he and his HO finally moved into a suitable mountaintop lair. The Professor's studies are back on track and he hopes to complete his thesis by the end of 2009.