Well, I've done it. I've started another blog. However, my other blog is supposed to be funny, unlike this one, which is the lunatical ravings of a madman. Madwoman. Whatever. I don't know what the correct thing is and I'm not going to offend myself.

Anyhow, I started it because it makes me giggle so much when people talk about their cats. This is something that I'm completely on the outside of, because as a person with the OCDs, there is no way I could ever have a cat. They scratch around in their little poop boxes and then hop up all dainty-like on the counters where your food is prepared. 

I'm serious. POOP GERMS EVERYWHERE THEY WALK. Not just regular poop germs, either, but CAT poop germs.

Yeah, I all-capped there. See that? That's how filthy they are.

I do think they're cute, but I'm also tremendously allergic to them, so when I even look at pictures of them, I feel a little scratchy. They pretty much kill me, in so many ways I can't even begin to describe it.

So, after a particularly long day of listening to crazy cat lady stories, told by a very sweet person who has, unfortunately, completely gone off the deep end, Jicama was born.

Who is Jicama? She is a cheeky cat who has many adventures. She is also whichever cat she feels like being. One day, she's a tabby. The next day, she could be a siamese or even one of those hairless ones.

You can't contain her. She is Jicama.

(The sad part is that, while I think it's hilarious, there are many, many people who would make a for-reals blog about their pet in the pet's voice. Ay caramba.)

At any rate, go. Go to Jicama. Embrace the lightness and sassiness that is her being.

And then think to yourself, "Wow. That lady has no life."

Jicama's work has been accomplished.