Teehee! (and whoa!)

I'm up past my bedtime, but I'm pretty sure this'll still be funny tomorrow morning.

Also, holy shit! Iggy Pop just went all stare-and-hiss at the back door. Why? Raccoons. At least four of them, at last count. They're ballsy furballs, too; when Peter and I went to see what all the kitty aggression was about, they just sort of stared in at us humans before going under the back porch. Peter says they're the fattest, healthiest-looking raccoons he's ever seen, too, and I gotta admit I'm glad there's a pane of glass between them and Iggy or he might be out getting his ass kicked right now. Them's BIG mofoes, but the cat knows they're the enemy just the same. I fear for the safety of our future gardens with a menace like that afoot. Time to invest in craptons of chicken wire, I suppose.