I'm Feeling Thankful

Voyage of the Mayflower à la Dangereux

In honor of the Thanksgiving tradition of giving thanks, I've decided to write a post on thirty things that have made me thankful this year. Unfortunately, I'm more thankful during Christmas because that's when you get goodies from everyone, but I guess I can use last Christmas' acquired fortune in case I don't reach the quota that I've set up for myself. In regards to this tradition, I still ponder why it's thirty days of giving thanks, when in reality, we only make it up to the twenty-fourth. But who am I to battle with tradition on this magical day of thanking your lord that you can cook one hell of a meal and knock the fuck out right after.

So here goes nothing. I'm thankful for the following things:

• the discovery of wedges



Especially These Four!

• the discovery of my ability to braid my own hair
• I've attempted to use my superpower towards others, but alas, it won't work on others.
• Spotify and its ability to listen to full discographies or just any damn song I want
• I apologize Pandora, but you say that you're a radio station and then you play the same DAMNED songs over and over again, in various radio stations might I state. You do know that there are over a BILLION¹ songs out there. Once you get that through your little heads, please notify Y100. They, too, only believe that ten songs exist in the world.
• AC/DC is finally on iTunes
• Whoever signed the damn contract or got them to budge, I owe you a fancy dinner and an impromptu² invitation back to my place.
• all the amazing concerts I've been able to go to, ranging from the Black Keys in Madison Square Garden to Metric at the Fillmore in Miami Beach. It's been a complete blast and I can't wait for.
• If I had the opportunity to attend each concert twice, I would wholeheartedly take that chance! If only each band would play two nights in a row in each area.

• I've finally figured out how to actually put on the Sally Hansen "Salon Effects"
• Yes, this is indeed did happen after finally taking the time to sit down and slowly, but surely, put on the damned nails.³

• this lovely blog that allows me to express my feelings about certain films, music, products, and events however which way I choose
• my iPhone
• Yes, I'm THAT materialistic that this is one of the things I'm thankful for. The app I'm most thankful for: Maps. I've been known to get lost a few times and these past few weeks have forced me to use alternate routes. So thank you makers of Maps! You now have one less person lost in life.
• another year at probably the greatest job in the world next to Ringleader at the Circus
• I believe that being the Ringleader of a Circus would be an awesome job because all you'd have to do is introduce each act and look great in a top hat doing so. My next greatest job in the world: soundtrack selector for films.⁴
• insurance
• Unfortunately, I will no longer have insurance by the end of the year, so yes, I'm thankful I have it for another week or so and thankful that I discovered how great it was the month before it expired.
• online shopping
• You have no idea how much of a convenience this is for me. And now that I've bought shoes online, I feel that I can buy the world.
• great friends and coworkers
• Without them, the hours of time would pass in a speed that can only be described as paint drying. You gals are the best and here's an imaginary glass of wine⁵ to you all!
• the lack of serious injuries this year on my behalf
• Every now and then, something bad happens to me, whether it may be that I need surgery or that I can't move because I've thrown out my back. So far this year, nothing drastic or life-altering has happened. Unfortunately, now that I have stated this, December is looking pretty scary.
• Pinterest
• Now everyone and their grandmother are on Pinterest, but believe me when I say that there is still great pinners out there and boards that you can only dream of having found those pictures.
• hot ass men
• Admit it. Some of you saw this coming. Ladies, we need to rejoice that there are beautiful men out there⁶ and even though the chances are slim, be thankful that we can dream.
• dreams
• online television and the power of Hulu, Netflix, and Amazon Prime combined
• If it wasn't for all these wonderful people, I have no idea how I would have survived those long sleepless nights or I-need-to-be-watching-something dinners.
• reading
• It's been quite a while since I've read any book. I've missed it a lot, but I've started up again. If it wasn't for my curiosity about those Fifty Shades novels⁷, I would've completely gone a whole year without reading and to me, that's death. So thanks, Fifty! And by the way, I've read more provocative stories filthier than yours that would have your little masochistic ass running for cover, no pun intended.
• my newfound motivation on crafting
• Yes, I feel like being crafty and every time I do so, Beastie Boy's 'She's Crafty' runs through my brain.⁸
• my adorable puppies
• Yes, one has bad breath, the other lays down as if posing for Playgirl, one smells your eyes, and the other has a God complex, but I love them all and they are the cutest bunch of puppies out there.
• inspiring films
• In the midst of all the crap that Hollywood puts out throughout the year, I'm thankful for those rare gems that capture, motivate, inspire, and almost every time, make you awe in perpetual silence!
• my bookshelf
• Without out it, all the countless subscriptions to magazines that I have acquired throughout the year would have no place in my life, instead of now, where they are collecting dust on thanked bookshelf.
• the wonder that is IKEA
• I swear, sometimes I can kiss you Swedes!
• personal headphones
• Without it, most people would hear me listening to Justin Bieber's 'All Around the World'.⁹
• my sexy ass car
• I swear, if you break down on me now, I'll curse you to hell and back. But might I say, the long road that we travel wouldn't be bearable if it wasn't for your sunroof capabilities and volume potentiality.

• my family
• I know they're going to crucify me for putting them this far down the list, but I believe in saving the best for last¹⁰. As a whole, they are truly hilarious and a blast to be around. I look forward to times of road trips and family adventures because what better time to spend your vacation than with your very own Munsters.¹¹
• my mother
• She is my rock, my paper, my scissors, my pain in the ass, but I love her more than words can say. And if it wasn't for the fact that she slept with my dad, I wouldn't be here. So I'm thankful that she loved him enough to go all the way. Thanks Mom!¹²
• my father
• To sum it up, the man bought memory pills and forgot where he put them. How can you not love that!
• my grandmother
• She's always there with a cup of cafe con leche and two slices of toast. Te quiero mucho Abuela!¹³
• and last but not least, my kick-ass sister
• There are no few words to describe how truly amazing my little sis really is. She makes me laugh when no one else can and she makes me proud like no other person does. I know she's reading this¹⁴, so here you go little shit, the only written proof¹⁵ that you mean the world to me. And I swear, if you come into my room and you're crying, I'm going to throw you out.

So there you have it. These are the things that I'm most thankful for this year. I can only hope that next year the winds of change will move me in another positive direction and guide to more things that I can be thankful for because if not, I'm just copying and pasting from this list. Now, if you'd like me to succeed this list with things that I'm NOT thankful for, I can assure you that thirty slots wouldn't be enough.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
 

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¹ Estimation.

² Impromptu on your part.

³ Didn't help that I bought TWO of the damned nail decals for my second attempt of application.

⁴ This is one job that I believe I am well suited for.

⁵ Imaginary on your part because I'm totally boozing it up.

⁶ Queue 'It's Raining Men' by the Weather Girls. 

⁷ No judgement.

⁸ Only the chorus. I have and have not stolen anything that didn't belong to me, that I know of.

⁹ Yes, you heard me. I said it. I currently have Bieber fever. Deal with it!

¹⁰ Or at least that's what I'll tell them.

¹¹ I had written Brady Bunch, but I enjoyed the Munsters series much more than all those crazed blonde kids.

¹² I know she's going to kill me for this.

¹³ Yes, I'm speaking Spanish.

¹⁴ Because I told her to.

¹⁵ Other than the various times I've hacked into your Facebook.

Shakespeare Should Be Proud

Practically everyday I sit in my car for about two hours, thinking.. listening.. watching. Now, it's not because I enjoy sitting in my car for two hours. No. That would be an insane notion. It's because that is the usual transit from my home to work. I get up, brace myself for the morning commute, and by the end of the day, I do a what you can call "a hauling of the asses". During this time I think of little things here and there, watch weird people here and there... You can say it's mostly here and there stuff. Sometimes I do listen to the radio, on very rare occasions if I may point out, and this post happens to be about one of those.

Due to the frequency of my listening, if you were to ask me, "Hey Chat, did you listen to that fly new song on the radio," I would simply answer with "No." "Why? I thought you liked music?" I do. I really do, but that was when music was music. When the "M" in MTV stood for music, not merde. At work, they call me the "music box" only because I know a lot of songs. And when I say a lot, I truly mean an ass-load. Sometimes, I can tell the name of the song and artist by just the beginning beats. But since this little tidbit is part of my superhero powers, I refuse to provide further information on the matter. We shall now continue to our regular programming.

Now, I've been known to harbor some questionable music (i.e. the Spice Girls¹,  Britney Spears², Justin Bieber³). I'm not saying anyone is better than anyone else. I'm just stating that music has undoubtedly changed. Now, if its for the better, I'm not positively sure. Actually... I am positively sure. It sucks now, way more than ever. I have a feeling that in a few years, the electronic age will take over and the sounds of a vending machine will top the Billboard charts.

What happened to music with meaning? What happened to songs that weren't produced just so that an album could be finished, released, and profited on?

I know what you're thinking. "Shit! She thinks of all of this when she drives?" That's a yes and no answer. Sometimes I switch between thoughts of sexy actors to work-related issues, but most of the time I think randomly. So, on my way home from work, I decided to switch to the radio and see what would welcome me on the other end.

Let's just say that I had a feeling on what was coming. As my index finger pushed the "ON" button, the sounds of Tyga's "Ayy Ladies" sang sweetly into my ears, filling my car at what could only be known today as music. Now I'm a fan of the general beat of a song, and this one's beat wasn't that bad, but it didn't make up for the lyrics.⁴ As the song progressed, my mind began to conjure up little ideas, until one stood out in my head as the best.

I began to think, "Shakespeare would be rolling in his grave right now." Well Shakespeare, I have taken it upon myself to become one of your disciples and convert this magnificently written artwork into a poetic piece possibly, if not hopefully, written, not by you, but someone trying to imitate you.

 "Ayy Ladies" - "Good Greetings, my Ladies"

Okay Now Ladies (Yeah) - As you will now Ladies (Aye)
If You Know You Bad (Yeah) - An thou knowest thee of consequence (Aye)
Don't Need No Man, Got Yo Own Bands - Doth not need a Sirrah, Thou hath thy own Bands
Put Up Yo Hands - Raise thy Hands
If You Ah Top Notch Bitch, Let Me Hear You Holla - An thou art a fair wench, Let me hear thy praise
Bend It Over, Touch Yo Toe, Whip It Out, - Bendth over, Touch thy toe, Whip't out  
Show Them Hoes Yo Bankroll, Slang It Out, - Show thee wenches thy shillings, Make't known
Do The Broke Hoe With It, Poke It Out, - Thou dost make't thee with thy wench, make't profound,
DAMN Shawty You CAN Get It - Alas Lass, thou can achieve it

Ughh 1234 Give The Booty 5, - Oh 1234 giveth thee arse a 5
I Like My Bitches Real Thick, Lil More Thighs - I fancy mine wenches with guard, a little more cushnet  
Richer Than Yo Ol' Head, No Lie, Stacks In That - Richer than thine old head, forsooth, Pounds in't 
Pussy Hole, Call Dat The G-Spot, Real Gentlemen, - Raven's nest, Hark yonder thy golden castle, Real Sirrah
...
Maan I Wouldn't Shake His Hand With Ah Broke Hand, - Sirrah, I doth not shake his glove with a worn one ...
Make A Bitch Strip Butt-Naked Like She Pole Dance, - Maketh a wench unfold arse exposed, fancied as a dancer of the Maypole 
...
Grab A Friend, Then Tell Her This This This, - Take hold of thy cousin, Bid her this this this
Yup Yup - Aye Aye

NOTE: Lyrics have been shortened due to excess use of the Chorus.

NOTE TWO: I am, or in no way, a student of Shakespearean literature. I take no responsibility for the imperfection/authenticity of the Shakespearean phrases... unless it is written correctly. 

NOTE THREE: I was about to "Shakespearesque" the whole song, but I thought, "Wait Chat! You actually have a life." 

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¹ Don't judge me. First of all, you know nothing about the Spice Girls.

² She's fucking Britney Spears. What'd you expect?

³ I have no idea why this child is on my iPod. I will attribute this flaw to my sister.

⁴ My musical preference is extended, physically and literally. I fear that if I begin to write about what I like, this post will convert itself into a short story. This is not what I want, so for now, I will not touch base about my musical tastes until later.

The Failure of the Nail Excursion

There was a point in my life, exactly three months ago, when I had this fanaticism with decorating my nails. Every time I saw someone with decorated nails, I would "Ooo" and "Ahh", but secretly I envied them and vowed that I would have the best nails in the land. This "nail fix" knew no bounds; even had me creating Pinterest boards on how many different ways I could decorate, manipulate, and paint my nails.

Newspaper nails? Yep, I have that tutorial, in French as well. Checkerboard black with a hot pink background? Yes again, though I still don't know if it requires a stencil or not. Floral nails? Serious? Are you fucking with me? You must of spent your whole damn day making those tiny flowers on something that's going to chip when you wipe your ass.

Regardless, it was a very low point in my life, this nail fixation, and there was a time that it reached an all time low. It was about the time that Sally Hansen had released her "Salon Effects." If you haven't had the chance to look upon this wonderful product, they are simply just decals for nails of "salon" designs that you MAGICALLY apply to your nails. It's that simple.


I believe this is what ensued in the minds behind Sally Hansen when they thought of this magnificent product:

- start commercial -

First Girl - "OH EM GEE, is that you Kelly?"

Kelly - "Hey Girl! What's up?"

First Girl - "Nothing much! Just getting some shopping done! How are you? Are you still with Jose?"

Kelly - "No, I left that cheating motherfucker's ass long time ago!"

First Girl - "GGGGiiirrrrllll! You know it! Lying son-of-a-bitch's need to get their asses handed to them!"

Kelly - "For real y'all!"

First Girl - "And OH EH GEE, how cuters are your nails!"

Kelly - "Thanks Girl! I got them did at a salon!"

*Kelly winks at camera*

- end commercial -


Practically every magazine, commercial, and bus banner¹ had that stupid nail shit advertised. And I was the moron who just had to have it. So one day, I planned it all out. I would walk to my local pharmacy store, grab one (or two) of the designs that I wanted, and walk back home, proud as ever of my purchase, ready to apply these wondrous products to my gorgeous hands and be the jealousy of all my coworkers the following day.

But alas, this was not the case. I remember that I began to chronicle my expedition for nail perfection only because I believed that, in the end, I would be victorious in this on-going battle waged against others with known nail perfection unbeknownst to them. So here begins the short, sad story of Dangereux and the Failure of the Nail Excursion.²

Dangereux's Log 21-J-2012-147: Just came back from our nail escapade. Actually, went walking, but alas to no avail there was no other options. We are thinking about taking our venture out further. Here goes nothing!


Dangereux's Log 21-J-2012-215: Entered a place called "Sally's Beauty Supply" only to come out empty. If Sally has every supply of beauty, then why doesn't she carry her own! Current Sentiment - Angered. NOTE: Did not realize that Sally Hansen is not the same Sally as Sally Beauty Supply. Apologies have been released.


Dangereux's Log 21-J-2012-226: While entering premises, lady says" Pizza Hut is at the entrance. That's why you can't drink! Because you become an asshole!"

Dangereux's Log 21-J-2012-228: Our mission is finally complete! Upon entering not one, but TWO stores, we believed our mission would have been futile! Yet on this premises, we found our sustenance!


Dangereux's Log 21-J-2012-243: Okay, so it was $40 worth for nails. Current Sentiment - Thinking this adventure could have waited a bit.


Dangereux's Log 21-J-2012-549: So our expedition proved to be even more futile than before. After what felt like a day, but in reality maybe one to two hours, the application of the nail stickers basically looks like crap. There's no sugar coating it. The only thing I was proud of is the two black nails I painted.

And those two black nails were the sexiest ever painted.

---

¹ Exaggeration.

² Yes, that whole beginning was an prologue of sorts.

NOTE: Yes, post was written in chivalrous form. No, it wasn't inspired by John Malkovich.

Me & Mr. Eloquence

Okay, this post is an urgent one¹ because I keep having the same exact thought whenever this damned commercial keeps playing on the wonder that is television.

Just a few days ago, I was idly attempting to write my first blog post in what seemed like a decade of writing, when all of a sudden I was hailed by my wondrous sister to join her in the activity of family time by the television set. Unfortunately for me, the channel was turned to American Idol. Yes, I succumbed to the two hours of howling and screaming from various "wannabe" musical artists (I say "wannabe" because they really do want to be musicians), to eventually have tears stream down my face as What's-his-face attempted to perform his first single while fighting back his tears of joy. Let's just say my stream of tears became a river.²

But that's not was has made this post so urgent for me. While watching said television series, one commercial struck me with such "Ooo...Ahh...I'd tap that," that it needed to be spoken of.

Ladies and Gentlemen (or Hello, less than ten people that read my blog!), I am completely smitten with the Apple commercial of John Malkovich. Yes, you heard correctly. Apple commercial.

I know what you're instantly thinking... "John Malkovich?... THE John Malkovich?... John Fucking Malkovich?..." Yes, John Fucking Malkovich. Yes, John Malkovich, who is fifty-eight years old and is actually old enough to be my father because my father is only fifty-three. Yes, THE John Malkovich from the film Being John Malkovich in which I've never seen, but people tell me it's a good movie. Yes, him. I know.. To me, it's slightly appalling and enthralling at the same time, but I can't help it. Here's what happened.

For those of you that have not had the chance to look upon this fascinating commercial, it's basically just propaganda for the iPhone 4s' feature of Siri, because in all actuality, no one uses Siri. Now, I speak, not from a numbers point of view,³ but from experience. Out of all the people that I know that have an iPhone, none of them use Siri. First of all, if you have the slightest hint of an accent, Siri will understand NOTHING you say. For example: I'm still trying to get Siri to look for local escorts whenever I say the phrase "I'm horny." The only thing Siri has contributed to my life is sexual frustration.

In the commercial, John Malkovich proceeds to ask Siri a question. In fact, he just says one word, "Life." (Now, there are two versions of the commercial out there; one with the meaning of life and the other with just a series of straightforward questions.) It doesn't really matter which commercial you see (though I'm quite taken with the "Life" one) because in both of them, Malkovich exudes style, sophistication, and just utter "damn-that's-hot" attitude.

I've seen some of Malkovich's films; Dangerous Liaisons, Con Air, The Man in the Iron Mask (I know this selection may not be his best works, but it's just to prove the point that the commercial isn't the only place I've seen him act in) and there's always been something about him. He has that "je ne sais quoi" trait.

In the commercial, Malkovich sits, tailored to the tee, in a grey, light-pinstriped suit, that sits on top of a blue dress shirt with an elegant, vertical pattern, and a ditsy, floral tie that adds just the right punch of color for a man of his stature and style. Surrounded by a sophisticated and modern ambiance that could pass as his study, he is situated in the middle of the room, window drapes opened to let in the sun. As he proceeds to ask Siri his question, she responds with her more-than-perfect answer. He, in turn, remarks on the exceptional answer Siri has provided and goes ahead to thank her in probably one of the most articulate and picturesque⁴ ways of doing so.

I have no idea if this is portraying his actual persona, but if it is, then all I have to say is "Oh My." My reaction was a mixture of being stunned, turned on, curious, melodramatic, and overall just baffled by how this man made looking good, charming, and cultured so effortless. Stunned because I've always found something interesting about this fascinating actor, turned on because a man in a suit with that form of speaking and eloquence gets my motor running and ready to break all sorts of traffic violations (No help needed from you there, Siri.), curious as in if he actually acts this way, melodramatic because I felt slightly lonely and I was still recovering from What's-his-face's performance, and baffled because he's fucking fifty-eight years old and I completely want to sit on his lap.

So there you have it, my confession to being enamored by a fifty-eight year old actor, who still looks great in a suit and speaks with such chivalry and eloquence, that I cannot help but think of him in dirty ways.

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¹ In terms of urgency, the first fourth of the post was written right after my last post. Unfortunately, things ensued in my life and I am currently finishing this post three days later than intended. So I currently have a new meaning to the word "urgency." It means "not that urgent."

² Yes I did buy the man's song on iTunes. Don't judge me.

³ Because the number might differ than my experience and that I actually don't work for Apple, this part of the post will not be calculated, statistically or truthfully. And no, I'm not going to go through the Internet and research if I'm right or not. This post was meant to be urgent and it shall stay that way.

⁴ Picturesque in terms of that a man of his prestige only exists in the cinema. If there is a man with these traits, minus the huge age difference, please notify me and I will send you an application for becoming the man of my dreams. Thank you.

Terms of Use

"So where is this bitch going with this?" This is probably the question most of you are asking yourselves, although the statement may vary if you actually care or not (I know I'm a slight bitch; there's no sugar coating it). Considering that you're actually taking the time to read what I actually have to say (which I know is precious time to all; here's where the slow motion would come in handy for facial reactions), I would just like to give you a little high-five.

See? There. You missed it. I'm not raising my arm again.¹

In all seriousness, because seriousness is key to making blogs interesting and fun, I thought it would be a nice gesture on my part to let you all know what you can expect from Le Blog du Le Chat Dangereux.

Yet, as I found myself writing this little post of future tidings, I began wondering, "What the fuck AM I going to write about?" In actuality, as I have spoken with the few people that actually read this blog, I'm writing in it for the same reason I write in my Day One Journal app, priced at $1.99, currently sitting on my iPhone; because I believe that I still have not used the app enough to say that those two dollars have transformed my life and my mobile phone for all eternity. In blog terms, the three hours and a half I spent making simple graphics and modifications to my blog and profile need to be justified.

Maybe some other time I will tell you the origin of Le Chat's blog² along with the countless social media presence out there under that name that currently takes up space in their website's prospective servers, collecting dust and acquiring the name "Ghost Town" to all who pass.

But for now, I have strayed and shall continue on the path of, "What the fuck am I writing about?" I've thought long and hard³, and came up with one answer; everything.

Yes, it is that simple. Everything and anything that just pops into my head and that I feel deserves to have the time taken to actually be written down and accompanied by a graphic, handmade by me. My life takes pretty interesting turns, my dreams are just complete asshole situations, and my relationships may not always leave you wondering "What the fuck?", but they can sure confuse the shit out of you. Along with musical findings and movie reviews (or more tirades on how attractive the men are and how unrealistically achievable it is to possibly be in any type of cinematic situation), who knows what else I'll come up with along the way.

All I can say is stay tuned.

And with that I bid you Adieu!⁴

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¹ No, I'm not that mean. If you'd like to high-five me in real time, please let me know in advance and I will begin to prep for raising my arm.

² Actually the origin of the blog isn't some epic story where I battle dragons and rescue some effeminate prince. Nope, its something more boring than that, so when I do actually write about it, I will assure you that I'll make it as long and agonizingly painful as possible. Hugs!

³ In reality, my thought process lasted for about a milli-second. And for those of you science enthusiasts out there, I don't care how long it ACTUALLY took me to process a thought. That's what it felt like, even though I have no complete conception of how long a milli-second really is.

⁴ Yep. That's was just another French word in yo⁵ face!

⁵ I may exude a few, what they call, "gangster" terms. It's part of my life. My street name is "Wordsmith" and let's not even discuss my street cred.

Qui est Le Chat Dangereux?

Well, first of all, Le Chat Dangereux is not of French descent, origin, or by any other means of French lineage. In fact, the only French influence that Le Chat Dangereux has acquired throughout her existence is that of her five years of attempting to learn the language and then proceed to fail miserably at keeping up with it. Her alias is a homage to her "French roots", so to say, and an attempt to give justification to the five wasted years of having learned nothing at all.¹

Le Chat Dangereux is not a daredevil in any aspect of her life, yet the same can't be said for her driving abilities.²

She does not have David Bowie eyes, although there are a few photographs out there that this statement can be argued with.³

She doesn't enjoy long walks on the beach unless it is during the hours of 12 a.m. to 3 in the morning, when the winds howl near the ocean and the sand doesn't feel as sticky as it should be.⁴

Le Chat Dangereux likes her fonts to be of 8 pt. size or smaller, yet realizes that this may be the reason that her vision is a -6.25 on both the left and right eyes.⁵

She is well aware of the close significance of her choice of alias. So to touch base on the matter, there will be no talk of pussies, dangerous or otherwise. 

She is not a virgin, so there might be talk of pussies, dangerous or otherwise.⁶

Le Chat Dangereux is currently available and feels that the opposite sex should have the same sentiments as her confidantes have; that she is an awesome person who deserves to have someone give it to her right every night.⁷

She isn't the prettiest girl in the world, nor the ugliest. She just has this face, that comes with a pair of lips, one nose, and two eyes. Along with this face comes a set of ears attached to the sides, hair that extends down to the tip of her shoulders, dyed half in blue (currently), and a smile that could still your beating heart.⁸

She enjoys viewing moments in life as if they all deserved their own cinematic exposure and feels that life would look much more attractive if there was an option of movement in slow motion.⁹

She is a friend, although she doesn't have many; a lover, although she currently doesn't have anyone to love; a fighter, mentally she's fought the world; and a mother, in terms of "one badass motherfucker."

Qui est Le Chat Dangereux?

Elle est moi.

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¹ If asked, she attributes this to it not being her fault, but that of her instructors who didn't teach her how to completely express herself in this romance language using social situations. Instead, they taught her how to write it. So basically, don't expect Le Chat to come up to you speaking in fluent French, but do acknowledge the fact that she can write the hell out of it in letter form.

² Drivers who see pedestrians as points should not be allowed on the road, unless they are contributing to the overall evolution of mankind by weeding out the bad ones.

³ She enjoys and is amused by this little tidbit very much.

⁴ She hates sand. It's a passionate argument and I wouldn't bring it up if I were you. 

⁵ Vision is worsening as we speak. 

⁶ In terms of relationships and sexual encounters/escapades or phrases, Le Chat Dangereux is, for a lack of better words, very heated in her discussions of the opposite sex. In other words, she has no boundaries. For instance, ass-raped: how she feels on a daily basis when automobiles drive too close to her car from behind.

⁷ Although every night may seem excessive, this is the current frequency in which Dangereux feels she should be pleasured to.

⁸ Smile could be a mechanism of attack, so be mindful. 

⁹ Although this notion could potentially ruin time as we know it, at least time would look good being ruined.