Too Weird Not to Share

(My YA Adventure/Boy Books Giveaway is still going on all this week! We've reached 10 entries, so I will be giving away TWO BOOKS for sure! If more if you enter, I'll give away 3! Or more!
And if boys and action aren't your thing, keep an eye out for the middle-grade fantasy giveaway I'll be hosting next week!)

Okay, yes, I know that talking about my cats all the time makes me the BIGGEST WRITER CLICHE EVER. At least I live in a big city and not a cottage in the country with said cats? And also I don't get drunk and pen brilliant novels either. If I try to write while drunk even vaguely tipsy, it looks something like this:

I stared at the... stared. Stared. STARED. That word looks weird when you read it enough times. Funny how words do that, right?
STAY ON TASK, ELLEN.
Okay.
Why am I typing all of my thoughts?
What was this scene about again?
OH GOD EVERYTHING I WRITE IS HORRIBLE.

So I'm not a complete cliche. Anyway. Back on track. My cats are insane.

I mean, not normal-cat-crazy. They are total weirdos. That's probably what I get for naming them after Harry Potter characters. One of which is a demon-thing.

But one of the weirdest things about them is how much they'll eat. I've had cats before. Cats like meat, and cheese, and sometimes milk or butter. That's all normal and good. My cats, however, eat more like dogs.

For example, this is Boggart and Tonks attacking my roommate for pasta:



Not that weird, you say? Some cats like red sauce, you say? Okay, well, here they are eating a FROZEN SOLID sweet potato French fry:



Still not impressed?

Cherry Poptarts. That's all I'm saying.