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Millie Noe | December 18, 2017

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Dear Millie and Maxie

cat-out-of-the-bag-1
Welcome to Black Cat Friday.
For all of you out there looking for answers to your feline issues, you have come to the right place.
“What, Louisa?”
Excuse me, my sister is talking.
“Oh.”
Let me rephrase that.
Welcome to Black Friday!
For all of you out there with holiday shopping anxiety, you have come to the right place. Because this cat is out of the bag. And that bag is awesome. And this cat, Maxwelle Smarte, and I, Millie Noe, know how to shop.
We are unbelievably, fantastic, Cyber Tuesday patrons.
Trust us.
“Now what’s your problem?”
Hang on. She’s talking again.
“Oh.”

Louisa, says that you are supposed to shop online on Cyber Monday and to stop talking like Trump.
But Max and I know that it really doesn’t matter what day of the week you shop, as long as you shop.
Because without shopping, you have no gifts.
But what does matter is picking out the right gift for the right person or the right cat.
That is the trick.
And this is exactly where you will find those answers.
Just send all of your holiday related questions to www.millienoeandmaxwellesmarte.com
And we will answer your questions live, right here, right now, on the internet.

Oh, here comes our first one.

Dear Millie and Maxie,
I need help.
I cannot think of a gift for my husband, Dale.
I want it to be something special.
But we have been married a long time.
A very, very long time.
And he can be such a pain in the ass.
It gets harder and harder to surprise him every year.
His closet is already stuffed with shirts that he never wears.
He doesn’t sleep in pajamas.
And he has way too many socks.
What should I do?
Sincerely,
Myrtle from Nocandoo, Mississippi

Dear Myrtle,
We would be happy to help you out.
But before we do, I just want to make it clear to our audience that this is not an X-rated blog. So please be careful how you word your requests. We do not want to be visualizing old men sleeping in the raw.
Now, I can totally relate to your problem.
My sweet Sven told me several years ago that I should no longer buy him any gifts from the waist on down.
I know!
“Why?” I said.
“Because Millie, you always get me shorts that are too long and pants that are too baggy.”
Between you and me, I was trying my best to get him out of those 1980 short, shorts. And it is not my fault that his ass no longer fills out his jeans.
“What about socks? I always buy you really good socks!” I said.
“Yes. You do. But they are always too thick.”
Okay Myrtle, Sven is one lucky guy. Because I didn’t smack him with the frying pan.
Here is what you buy a man who you have been married to for a very, very long time when you want to surprise your sweetie with a gift that keeps on giving.
Get him a rain gauge.
“Max, you have to wait your turn. I am answering first.”
As I was saying, all men over a certain age love rain gauges.
I can’t explain it.
I am a woman.
Max can’t explain it.
He is a cat.
But that is not the point.
The point is, you cannot go wrong with a rain gauge.
And once your man has a rain gauge, all of his friends will want a rain gauge too.
Because that way when they get their hair cut, they can notify their hair dresser of the recent amount of rainfall.
And when they stop for a cup of coffee at the gas station, they can join in on the rainfall banter with the other fellas in line.
And when you host your next dinner party, all the guys can babble on over whether the last rainfall was a quarter of an inch or three centimeters, while you and your women friends slam another glass of wine and ignore them.
Just be sure to bring it inside before winter hits, if you have winters in Mississippi.
Because if you don’t, it is going to crack.
And then when you tell your son that his step-dad could use a new rain gauge for his birthday because his last one cracked and he goes out buys him one of those real fancy and expensive Doppler-radar units that you hook up to your computer and it will give you wind speed, humidity and barometric pressure readouts every five minutes, your sweet Sven will only care about the rainfall.
Now Maxwelle Smarte would like to take his turn.
Go ahead Maxie.
“Oh.”
Max would like me to speak for him.
“What’s that?”
Max says that he would suggest, cat nip. And not the shitty stuff from the dollar store.
And now, I speak for both of us when I say that we hope we have made your holiday shopping easier and a pleasant experience.
Be sure to join us next time.
Sincerely,
Millie and Maxie from the Frozen Tundra

Max, are you sure your brother isn’t pissed about not being included in this? You know how he gets.

morrie-up-close

He’s fine.