Sistine kitteh from I Can Has Cheezburger?
No, I'm not hallucinating - or seeing visions of angels - from too much grading. (Though I am still buried under heaps of term papers and exams.)
Verily, the Ceiling Cat has cast his beatific feline glance upon me.
He really does see everything. At least, he saw this post about his presence on Twitter. He utters some LOLspeak ("Talkin bowt meh? Dey dunt seme so revrent") and the next thing I know, legions of his followers, hooman and kitteh alike, are pouncing on this humble blog.
And yes, it was the real Ceiling Cat, not his masturbation-obsessed doppelganger. O Ceiling Cat, I promise not to block you. (Unless that was you peeking at me the other day when I had a few private moments and ... oh, never mind.)
Just so you don't think we're blaspheming - we are a cat-inspired blog, after all, and we weren't snarking when we said you've mastered the form of the tweet - here's a felidiction in your honor:
May the Ceiling Cat bless you and keep you;
May he tickle you with his whiskers
And bring half-dead mice to you
May the Ceiling Cat lift up his furry countenance upon you,
And protect us from fleas.
If that doggerel is too un-catlike for you, well, we'd be happy to oblige with belly rubs.
(Oh, and I broke down and started following Ceiling Cat on Twitter. I was not going to actually use my account, just squat it! Thus begins the road to perdition, or at least procrastination.)