Once again, Winston has been shorn, and once again, he's uneven to the point where it looks like he was intentionally trying to blend in to the Williamsburg crowd we live amongst. Life is simultaneously cyclical in lopsided. Now Cute Overload will never pick him up again!
The short account is in the video. Longer, illustrated explanation is after the jump.
Only Hope Cat Rescue is having a fundraiser next week. Since they saved Winston from certain death, giving you the heads-up on it is the very least I can do, I think:
Enjoy the comedy of some of the hottest NYC comedians as they perform for New York's homeless cats and kittens. Featuring:
* Liz Winstead (Creator of THE DAILY SHOW)
* Christian Finnegan (COMEDY CENTRAL PRESENTS, LATE SHOW WITH CARSON DAILY & BEST WEEK EVER)
* Victor Varnado (CONAN O'BRIEN, JIMMY KIMMEL LIVE, MOVIES with EDDIE MURPHY and SCHWARZENEGGER, MY NAME IS EARL)
* Todd Levin (COMEDY CENTRAL'S LIVE AT GOTHAM)
* Baron Vaughn (COMEDY CENTRAL'S LIVE AT GOTHAM)
* Lord Carrett (XM AND SIRIUS RADIO)
* Peggy O'Brien (VARIOUS NYC CLUBS)Tickets are $25 and the place has a two-drink minimum. There's info on Only Hope's site regarding ticket purchasing.
Unrelated, but also in the realm of the least I can do: Drew, the kid at the center of this blog, Heart to Heart, has had three open-heart surgeries. He is 4. I'm jealous of his strength and bravery.
Just in case you think that Winston is a total fame whore, here's some counter-evidence:
This was sent in by a Winston fan who'd like to remain nameless. And so she will be, except in my heart where she is known as the Queen of My World.
Winston's super nervous in anticipation of tonight's ANTM finale:
After all, it is spring. I get excited and jump around like this, too.
I have been so inspired by people and shit I've found on the street lately, you have no idea. An example of the latter category is this:
I walked past this Chick Book and had to swing back around to pick it up, because if there's anything that I love more than the willful misinterpretation of the theory of evolution (and I do love it!), it's the willful misinterpretation of the theory of evolution en español. You know, I kinda wish my grandfather was a gorilla. That's a lot more interesting than being Ukrainian, and can you imagine how much more complicated my last name would be if that were the case?
After the jump, more stupid shit that amuses me including a vagina arm so graphic that I feel the need to place a NSFW warning on this post.
I know I post Winston stuff too infrequently to some people's liking, but it's because I like to have some angle or inject a smidge of creativity, lest the posts just be gratuitous kitty porn. That means it takes a while for me to formulate shit -- but not in this case. Below is pretty much a scaled-back, fly-on-the wall account of a typical Winston dinner with just a few minor edits (and lots of speeding-up) to keep things moving. He seriously tears shit up on a regular basis:
A few things to note:
1. Rudy and Winston eat in separate rooms because if they didn't, Rudy would scarf down Winston's food and, quite possibly, Winston along with it.
2. We clean our walls a lot.
3. That platform is supposed to make Winston's eating more comfortable for him since he's respiratorily complicated. That's the idea, anyway. In actuality, it's just something else for him to get rowdy with in his feeding frenzy.
I posted something like this last year, but since then, I've gotten more thorough in my output. And so has Rudy, for that matter. We grow together!
Even though the joke is, "LOL gay cats!!!", I don't actually think that's what's going on. I think it's more like, "LOL, look at how Rudy helps out his retarded brother."
Happy Valentine's Day!
...for you see, I'm thisclose to being mentally incapacitated.
My boyfriend had a cute idea for our holiday card this year: dress Winston up in this cat Santa costume we have (do not ask why we have it in the first place. Really. Please don't.), and pose him next to a menorah (boyfriend and Rudy are Jews) and then Photoshop Rudy's heads where the flames would be on the candles. It didn't work out. The best thing that came of maybe 45 minutes of clenched teeth, pissy cats that move like Stevie Wonder whenever a camera comes within 10 feet, repeated use of the word "fuck" and an argument of the logistics of shrinking Rudy's head in post production, this is about the only good thing that came to be:
It's cute, but not exactly card material. I didn't want to scrap the idea entirely, though, so I decided that for this blog, I'd make sort of a video Christmas card. That's how it goes lately, anyway: holiday time is video time. Wait until you see what I do for Flag Day! Anyway, I thought I'd do something a little more abstract and infinitely more pointless: my concept going into this only went as far as Winston walking in that Santa suit to "Welcome Christmas" from How the Grinch Stole Christmas. That is my favorite Christmas song behind Mariah's "All I Want for Christmas Is You" and Donny Hathaway's "This Christmas." I love it because it is comprised mostly of nonsense words. Also, I like the line that goes, "Christmas day will always be / Just so long as we have we," because it sounds like they might say, "Just so long as we have weed."
The result is below. Merry Christmas for real. (Although, I may post again before Christmas -- I have an idea for a post that would have to go up pre-Christmas, although I also have an idea to sleep for, like, a really, really long time. We'll see which wins out.)
Swear to god, it's like living amongst raccoons. Except unlike Edie Beale, I don't find raccoons and cats one bit boring.
Happy Thanksgiving, for real. Last year, I wrote a cloying post about all the things I'm thankful for and you the reader/this blog was high on that list. The gratitude has only deepened.
Some people use Halloween as an excuse to dress slutty (thanks, Joel Stein, I haven't seen Mean Girls in years!) or as an excuse to dress as a woman (especially if you aren't one) or an excuse to dress, period. I don't. The closest I'm coming to a costume this year is this sweater with some brown pants, and in turn, it's the closest I've come to a costume, period, in, like, 10 years. I don't care enough to make the effort. Part of that has to do with Tyra Banks showing me the proper facial expressions to use to get candy. Who needs trick or treating when you've got fierceness?
Anyway, I do treasure Halloween for giving me an excuse to dress up my cats. I've repeated this anecdote before, but whatever, I'm gonna do it again: very early in the life of this blog, someone wrote me an email begging me never to dress Winston up. "He's too good for that," she said. I totally agree. He doesn't need no stinking costumes...except sometimes he does because it's fun. It's not that deep, he's just a retarded cat, you know? I don't like to break protocol often, but certainly the excuse of Halloween is too valid to pass up.
My boyfriend is generally the creative mastermind behind Winston's costumes and most things Winston, for that matter. He came up with the idea to dress Winston this year as Jabba the Hutt. He was inspired when he watched Winston lazily lounge on this platform we have in the living room while smoking his hookah. Just kidding. Winston's more of a blunt man. Anyway, he figured that all we'd need to do is throw Winston in the leg of some pantyhose and viola: Jabba. Yeah, well, uh, things didn't exactly work out that way.
Like, I don't know what the fuck that is, but I do know that it's about my favorite picture in the world.
Actually, I know that there are plenty of people who don't, but I'm not sure that he's ever caused a violent reaction until now: in the video below, a cat by the name of Sophie flips her shit as she watches the Winston Is Annoying video. It's a little long, but at least the first half is comedic gold.
I love that Winston's bitching is so intimidating to this cat. At least it works on someone! I'm sure if faced with Sophie's animosity, Winston would walk right up to her and present his big, bubble eyes for clawing. Wouldn't be the first time!
If you have a cat who has an averse reaction watching Sophie watch Winston, please send it in. I want to start a chain of cat screaming that will last and add links until my head explodes. Seriously: project!
Update: When asked for a comment on Sophie's hateration, here is what Winston submitted:
And yeah, sometimes I shock myself with the queer shit I come up with.
Below is a little slice of Winston's life. It's also the story of my life. I know that this may somewhat undermine his cuteness (or his cute-ugliness), but whatever. The truth needs to be said: I live with a brat.
(Download)
Winston mostly cries like this when he's hungry, i.e. ALWAYS. But you know what the best thing about this video is? When I was putting it together, Winston was attempting to sleep next to me on the couch, but he kept waking up, hearing his own crying and the pre-meal sounds present in the clips I was editing. Ha! Now he knows how annoying he is. I mean, I'm sure he forgot immediately, but the moment of justice was worth it.
David Lynch via INLAND EMPIRE has hijacked my pop-culture time and, most importantly, my brain this week. Hopefully I'll have something to show for it tomorrow. In the meantime, I have but meager offerings in the form of suggestions:
WATCH: This:
Fascist Atlantic Records keeps removing this video, Jomanda's "Got a Love for You," from YouTube. The one that's up now is shitty and out of sync. That's why I'm turning to good, old, ignored DailyMotion for this nicely encoded version. I've wondered many times if this is my favorite song of all time, and every time I say to myself, "God, Rich, don't be so definitive," I eventually end up listening to it again and realizing that it is indeed my favorite song of all time. The video is to the early '90s (all plastic and polka-dotted and baggy and safe-sex promoting) what Beyond the Valley of the Dolls was to the early '70s, if BVD were selectively colored and set to a throbbing house beat. Talk about definitive! I can't wait until hipster fashion catches up to this shit -- I salivate for the day when spandex onesies with suspenders are once again fashionable for men. In fact, I might get one this weekend to help kick that off.
I've uploaded this track before, but here it is again, just in case you need it. I couldn't live with myself knowing you were going without:
Jomanda "Got a Love for You (Hurley's House Mix)"
READ: Stylus' feature on the history of freestyle. Written by my friend Michael Gill, it's as straightforward and comprehensive of a chronicle of the genre as you're likely to read anywhere. The 50 Essential Tracks list is spot-on, but what tickles me the most is that shot of Carlos Berrios in a puke-yellow wife-beater on the beach. How much you wanna bet that if the camera pulled back, it would reveal Carlos to be rocking a spandex onsie? Trailblazer!
TROLL: 90's R&B Junkie - Speaking of throwbacks, this blog aims to go through each and every No. 1 R&B track of the '90s, providing critiques and context for each song. It's brought to you by the guy who runs Mixtape Maestro, and the writing is uniformly solid and informed. One downside is that the writer doesn't believe in MP3 distribution (these songs need to LIVE, damn it!), but that's made up for by YouTube and/or audio embeds. And, really, if you don't know how to get your hands on free files of any of this stuff, you probably don't belong on the Internet anyway. It's great to read about Boyz II Men's "Uhh Ahh" or fucking Tracie Spencer's "Tender Kisses" in 2007, but it's also nice that via this blog, the image of Ruby Turner gets to live again:
A public service, if ever there was.
CRUSH ON: YouTube's roccigiovanniberrini, whom, I'm thinking, has to be one of the most appealing men in the world right now. He lists himself under YouTube's comedy tag, and while I've never busted a gut or anything, he's amusing enough. But mostly, he's just dreamy with great eyebrows and palpable Midwestern kindness. He records a lot of his observational rambles shirtless, and even though his camera stays focused on his head and neck (you don't even get so much as a nipple), that's still hot. Even hotter, per his newest video, he totally sees the advantage of bisexuality, even though it "isn't for him" (come on, Rocci, the fruity spelling of your name suggests otherwise!):
I think I like YouTube talking-head-type shit because it feels like I'm consuming pop culture (and therefore "working"), and yet, it's ultimately mindless. It's soothing almost. Rocci gives me nice daydreams.
UNDERSTAND: Like many a Lynch character, I live in terror. The only thing that haunts me more than the shot of Winston at the top of this post is Winston himself. You'll notice that a lot of the "Winston" coverage lately has revolved around food because, seriously, that's all that Winston's into. I've explained it before, but he and Rudy are obsessed because we don't give them dry food (it just isn't good for them, especially with Winston's IBS past). But now I understand why people do: it gets your cats to leave you the fuck alone. Blocks of cheese, celery, hamburger rolls, butter knives, lollipops, popcorn, fucking ANYTHING THAT'S EDIBLE cannot be left around these cats, who feel like they have to hunt for everything since they're only fed twice a day. I've stopped counting the times that Rudy has broken the skin on the hand that feeds him. Winston will eat something, say a dehydrated chicken cat treat, and then bite my finger after it's gone, just to make sure it's really gone. One of the few things Winston's tiny, barely functioning brain has been able to absorb is the sound of a foil top coming off yogurt. I know that once I open yogurt, it's only a matter of time before Winston comes running in with his hoarse demands. The anticipation seizes me with fear sometimes when it's really late. It's like Jaws. I know what it is to live every week like it's Shark Week.
Being gay, we drink a lot of protein shakes in this apartment. No, Nasty, not like that...at least, not always. In this case, the matter at hand is an actual protein (soy!) shake that's being pursued by Winston. Maybe he just wants to be like us. Maybe he's just a pig. Maybe those two things aren't mutually exclusive, after all. Whatever, the point is that, as the shake goes down, Winston's interest in it does not. He won't take, "Your head is too fucking big, you oblong freak" for an answer. See for yourself and note that I've already called Child Protection on myself. I'm a responsible parent like that.
(Download)
And also: Check it out: Winston's helping fight breast cancer. In his lazy-ass way, of course. But still: helping!
Here is Winston just before his recent bath:
Here is Winston just after his recent bath:
And here is Winston during his bath:
(Download)
Last summer, I posted a video of Winston nibbling on an ear of corn (or, at least, trying to). This year, I present the longer and more violent sequel:
Rudy, you can see, is waaaaay more voracious than Winston. If things continue at this rate, next summer, I'll be posting a video of him taking off my hand. That will be a sad day for everyone, as it will mean no more cat videos/pictures. Also, I like to think that when Rudy ran off with the corncob for a second time, he was going somewhere to carve a pipe out of it.
You'll notice that this video and a few other new ones on this blog have been uploaded via YouTube. I admit it: I caved. I'm really not one to hold principle over the practical and, at this point, it seems that divorcing myself from YouTube was tantamount to turning my back on technology. In the rant I posted after being flushed from YouTube, I basically said that the end to its usefulness was imminent. I selfishly figured that since I was booted, there was a large campaign underway to rid YouTube of all copyrighted material and that soon would come the day when it was populated by solely sub-talking-head talking heads. Five months later, and it's basically as useful as ever, and it would seem that I've cut off my nose to spite my technology. I feel like people are much more likely to browse YouTube for material than they are DailyMotion -- while I'll keep my DailyMotion account, I think I'm going to switch back to YouTube for a while. Just for the sake of getting THE TRUTH out there (and by "THE TRUTH," I mean clips of garbage and animals and maybe animals playing in garbage) and, you know, for the sake of helping Winston become the household name he's dying to be.
As a reminder of my selling out, though, I've chosen what I think is an appropriate name for my new YouTube account: shutupihatemyself. True story!
I'm traveling right now on business ("business"). I'm not sure if that will affect my posting here any more than it already has (i.e. I could have new shit up tomorrow and Friday), but it might. Just a heads-up.
In the meantime, you can do two things: look to your left and watch Chow Daddy (you know you want to!) or contemplate Rudy's recent post-bath awesomeness:
Sometimes I feel bad about being so vulgar so regularly, but now is not one of them: I look at this picture, and all I can think of is that line from Bikini Kill's "Anti-Pleasure Dissertation" (which: hee! title!) in which Kathleen Hanna talks about "how punk fucking rock my pussy smelled." I know that the whole cat/pussy thing is soooo played out, but what can I say? I'm a simple man.
I am in serious awe of the response last week's shaving Winston post received. I don't know what I can do to top it as far as Winston humiliation goes. I was planning on just giving him noogies, but now I don't think that will be sufficient.
A few people asked what kind of clippers we used. I don't know the model, but they were Osters. They belonged to my mother so I'm guessing they were about 5,000 years old. To make sure they didn't ever got hot enough to hurt him, we stopped frequently and sprayed the clippers with Cool Care lube. We also stopped frequently and sprayed our genitals with Cool Care so that we could have buttsex.
Kane, a reader who often goes by starstattoo, was so inspired by the shot of me holding Winston that he made a lolthang out of it. If only Gawker had waited a day, for this is absolutely the true intersection between lolcats and lolgays:
Love it. Although I have to say that this is a case of something being funny because it's untrue. I don't prance around the with Winston around my shoulders a la Brit. I generally lounge and place Winston strategically to cover my crotch a la La Toya Jackson. A minor distinction, for sure.
Also, and I'm such an idiot for not sharing this earlier, but another discovery that shaving Win led to was that he has an abundance of skin. It's kind of insane.
You could seriously fit tennis balls up in there. I hope that one day Winston will put these to use and swoop around the house like a sugar glider. I always wanted a flying cat.
Hey! Look what we did!
So many times when watching week after week of the girls of ANTM get decked out in drag-queen hair and homeless-lady makeup, only to then contort themselves into whatever harebrained scenario Jay Manuel has chosen for them, I wonder why we can't ever have a fucking beauty shoot? Tell me why. I'd seriously rather watch girls be forced to be pretty without any ice-cream sprinkles or war paint getting in the way. And so, maybe the same should follow for Winston. Maybe I get a little too conceptual at times and need to scale it back, to keep it simple, stupid. After the jump, is some unadulterated, uninterrupted kitty porn that comes from a photo shoot that we did early in the morning on the bed, as Winston basked in the most beautiful light of the day. Tyra would have been proud.
Exciting, right? Clearly, it's a nonstop fiesta en la casa del cuatrocuatro.
Also, it never struck me until now, but Winston is a ringer for Anne Ramsey.
I have now lived with the weirdest animal I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and studying (and sharing) for over two years. Winston arrived to live with us on April 1, 2005 and while it would be over-dramatic to say that my life hasn't been the same since, I can say without exaggeration that my life has not smelled the same way since. Since this two-year milestone recently passed, I thought it would be a good time to reflect on the cat, the legend, the walking garbage disposal that is Winston.
In the beginning, there was only a picture...
Ever since I became obsessed with I CAN HAS CHEEZBURGER?, I've wanted to make a kittah/LOLcat/cat macro of Winston. I finally came up with one that I think captures him well. Click to enlarge, if you're into that sort of thing:
Today, Rudy turns 4. Also, as of today, I haven't had a cigarette (not one!) in two years (I talked about the struggle last year). Rudy and I are the champions of the world.
Also, do you look at I CAN HAS CHEEZBURGER?? Because you should.
My boyfriend recently bought a Mac. Being a PC loyalist coping with the discovery that a loved one is a Mac person is, I imagine, like being a kind-hearted but circumstantially ignorant straight person who discovers that someone close to them is gay: you're supportive but concerned about the bigger picture. It's a cold world back there in our makeshift office, and I just don't want that Mac to mistreat him, is all. I gently suggested that he try not being a Mac person, but apparently things don't work that way. Oh well. All I know is what I hear on Oprah.
Anyway, one great thing about this new Mac is its built-in webcam. Frankly, I cannot wait to start masturbating furiously for all of the Xtube community to enjoy. Just kidding -- I want Winston to masturbate furiously on Xtube. Then he'll really be a star. Until he learns how, though, here's the next best thing: distorted shots of his face via Mac's insanely addictive Photo Booth program.
Like his face isn't fucked up as it is, right?
...one cat cleaning another:
(Download)
This is sort of a prequel to this, which in turn, is pretty much a prequel to this. The video above is sanitary calm before the storm, if you will. I figure that if there's one day that I can get away with posting something so sickly sweet, it's Valentine's Day.
Thanks to all, btw, for the post-YouTube suggestions. I decided, per Chaka_Kahn's advice to try out Dailymotion. I figure that Chaka always will tell you something good.
Jesus Camp isn't exactly something that is easily shaken. And so, in response to this image, here is the official fourfour statement on abortion:
Sends a strong message, doesn't it? I wonder if the dream God had for Winston involved being mocked repeatedly on the Internet?
In sum, please do not give your cat abortions.
As an aside, fetal Winnie originated in this shot:
He lay like that for five minutes. This is notable because he never does that. He can barely stand to be pet, let alone tolerate staying still on a lap. Do you know what kind of torture it is to live with something so cuddly that really couldn't give a toss about cuddling? It's like some Saw shit ("I want to play a game. You've spent your whole life smothering animals with affection. Now it's your turn to be smothered...in sadness!"). It's almost as though Winston hates me. Really, I can't imagine why.
A common comment about Winston goes something like, "I want to eat his head." I, too, have said this. At first I thought it was because he's just so damn cute (/ugly/cute). But I think I've discovered the real reason Winston causes people to salivate...
His head is shaped like a hamburger. Or, at least, you can hold it like a hamburger.
Mmmm! Rudy agrees:
Winston, too, agrees:
He's all, "I'm delicious!"
To ring in the new year, I give you a wrestling match. Nothing like starting things off on a catty note, right?
(Download)
I'm really impressed with Winston's jump attack. That's my boy! I'm so proud.
This is the Christmas card we sent out this year. The idea was my boyfriend's. I think it's a good one. However, I'm not thrilled about the execution, which is all mine. I think taking a Photoshop class needs to be at the top of my New Year's resolutions. Anyway, it's a Christmas card, so whatever. What are you gonna do, send it back?
I hope this December has been magic for you and yours. I also hope that Monday is special for you, no matter what you celebrate (big shout out to those who celebrate independent thinking!). I mostly celebrate presents. I can't wait to get them!
I usually ignore these types of things in the rare event that I'm ever nominated for anything, but, to paraphrase Amanda on last week's ANTM: this is for Winston! Gawker is running a blog-pets poll to determine which furry blog mainstay is the cutest (or most worthy of a mouse click, really). If you have the time and the conviction, vote for Winston here. I know you may be tempted to vote for Cityrag's Buddy, but let me fill you in on a little something about Buddy: the fucker bit me. Like, more than once. By voting for him, you're advocating continued Bud-on-shoe violence. You want that resting on your soul?
Similarly, that Monkey thing Ultragrrrl has is cute, but do you really want advocating anything that has to do with Ultragrrrl resting on your soul?
In sum: viva Winston!
Update: Winston won! He would like to thank his people for voting:
(Download)
I like to think that if Winston could sing, he'd sing like Anita Baker.
Beyond the obvious (the boyfriend, friends, family, Tyra), here are a few things that I'm thankful for.
(Note: This post is the product of serious reflection on my superficiality.)
- Winston's continued commitment to weirdness
Thanks everyone for the LOL-/OMG/HB!!!-ing. It made my birthday that much more special.
Since I was off having a birthday, all I have to offer today is a cat video. Add LCD to those abbreviations.
(Download)
Here, I'll save you the trouble: pussy licking.
You know, I hate dressing up my cats, but it's Halloween, so I think it's OK to make an exception:
I can take no credit in this -- making Winston a Rice Krispie treat for Halloween was 100 percent the brainchild of my boyfriend. Winston is so sweet (and likely to tear up the roof of your mouth) that the costume is a great fit. I think we'll keep him in it permanently.
Meanwhile, since he isn't nearly as cute, we threw a sheet over Rudy and made him a ghost.
Just kidding. Rudy's totally cute. He's so handsome, in fact, that next year, he's totally going to be Patrick Swayze.
And, since we're combining animals and pseudo-horror, there's no better way to revel in this than with Riz Ortolani's Cannibal Holocaust main theme. This is played approximately 5,000 times throughout the movie -- it's more indelible than any of the atrocities the film has to offer. It's first a treat, then a trick. But whatever, making yourself sick is the new scaring yourself to death. (For real!) Think of that when you're stuffing your face with candy!
(Download)
Take that as you will.
Natural or artificial light?
Really, I can't decide.
He does live in Williamsburg, after all. Or is the bandanna thing over?
After the jump is perhaps a new fourfour nadir. I seriously didn't want to post it on the main page...
