[Whispering] Ladies and Gentlemen, Noodles has decided to sleep in. We’ve tried Sausage-smell-smelling salts—nothing will awaken her.

All we can do is patiently wait, make sure her ear bows stay on, and photograph the hell out of the situation.

We’ll check back on this story this afternoon. Miguel G. at Petographer will keep us informed.

Hey, Norton, what’s happening? Listen, I’m going to need you to not press snooze again, alright? Yeah, if you could go just ahead and get up and come into the office, that would be grrrreat.

That’s my stapler, Stephenson B.

Oooooooooh for meeeeeeeeee

Thank yoooooou!

Oooooooooh!

[Pan down] [Annoyed kids voice] Yeah. Thanks.

Thanks a lot. Let’s go, Mom. Vamos.

Grateful walla and wallababy photographed by Melissa B. in Australia’s Rainforest Habitat.

Your mission is clear, little Ham.

Roll into the kitchen, procure yogurt drops, and roll back.

It’s simple.

We’ll be waiting for you.

DON’T MESS IT UP!

GO KRYSTLE C.!!!

It’s a never-ending stream of kittens-on-backs this last week. Adding to the collection, check out this prosh specimen, a kitten named Cotton:

Anerabuhls, Elizabeth M. See Cotton’s channel here.

Roving cuteporter Miss Heather over at NewYorkShitty found these anerable teeny subway shots. The photographer Victoria Belanger says:

“I’m a photographer for the DA’s office and there is a women there who makes these models (trains, apts, buildings, etc) for court cases, as a visual aid for the jury. The train is perfectly hamster sized so I brought my super tame hamster into work yesterday for a little photo shoot. They came out better than expected. I’m really excited about them.”

Our compliments to you, Sender-Inner Chef Mike! Via NewYorkShitty and BoingBoing.

If you were expecting actual flying foxes – sorry, but we have something better – bats!

And may I introduce you to Beatrice, our resident gossip hound:

These tiny freaking gigantic flying foxes are a type of bat vital for the pollination of tropical plants, yet they’re listed as “vulnerable” on the endangered species list.

These two guys come from the Tolga Bat Hospital that rescues, rehabilitates and releases hundreds of bats that would otherwise die. They also provide lifetime sanctuary for many bats that are too severely injured to return to the wild or have been retired from zoos.

Check out:  http://www.tolgabathospital.org/

Thanks, Alina K.

Um, excuse me? I don’t mean to disturb you, but if you wouldn’t mind just scootching over for a moment…? I just ate at Panda Express and I have Duck Sauce all over me. Hello?

No worries, I’ll just grab some toilet paper…

“No, I can’t spare a square. Now beat it. I got eatin’ to do.”

Try a hotel lobby Rhiannon and  Natalie S.

In this corner, weighing in at fiiiiiiive pounds, please weeeeeelcome, Saddies MiiiiiiiicFrownersons!

And in this corner, weighing in at threeeee pounds, pleeeeease welcome challenger Professssssssor Lazy Eye Von Sour Puss!

What say you, Stephanie S. and Travis C.?

Please help. His name is Wedge – purely coincidental, mind you – and he’s gone ’round the bend:

“Hey, guys! Look in my new tele-ma-scope! We live in Pennsyl-ma-vania, but you can see all the way to Polka-vank-tatum! And that’s where the Paperclip Fairies and Purple live!”

What the hell just went on here, Tara G.?

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Sloths loved the rides that took minimal exertion. And for that reason, The Mad Hatter’s Tea Cups were a big hit:

“After this, I want to sink my claws into Mr. Toad and His Wild Ride!”

And while the mini-Sloths were riding away, the adults hit up EPCOT. First stop: Swiss Chard. Hydroponics.

Are you happy now, Stacy?

Circles surround me

Should have listened to Kermit

Someone find Fozzy

Have you thought of having thumb-reduction surgery, John P.?

You’re ashamed to be seen with me. You’re ashamed to go out with me. You’re ashamed your rich friends won’t approve of me! Well, at least I’m not a sell-out who allows ridiculous people to wear my image on their ties and belts while attending clambakes in Nantucket!  You’re all, “Hi, I’m the Labassador of Americana!” And then you forget what you said because you’re too busy chasing a Kennebunkport squirrel wearing loafers! But you’re right, I should be embarrassed about my camouflage.

Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to wait here for Duckie to pick me up.

He didn’t become part of “the breakfast club” did he, Brian B.?

After a dozen rolls of film, Amaryllis really thought that this one would be a keeper. That coy smile and twinkle in her eye were about to work pig wonders, and she knew it. Unfortunately, it was that apparent giant bullseye on her freshly coiffed ‘do that did her in.

Poor Amaryllis. Who knew that Big Bird could fly?

I wonder if Snuffy was riding sidecar, Riana P.

I’m not fooling around here, New Guy. I’m going to tell you one time, and one time only: Take a hike. Now, before you go…where did you get that pink Frisbee, because Heavens to Betsy, it looks as comfy as the dickens!

Split personality, Courtney B.

Really? This is how you choose to spend our time? You have the rare opportunity of not only catching, but also holding a hummingbird, and you want to declare a thumb war?

According to sender-inner Hana O.: “My classmates discovered this young hummingbird who had fallen out of his nest and immediately a rescue team ensued! He was a bit of an inexperienced flier, but in the end he made his way back into his tree.”

Sequoia, the matted-hair, bear-feet, insanely anerable kitt-tayns is not gonna let you groom her. No WAY:

Big thanks to Winston and Rich over at Four Four for this personal reccomendayshe.

From our “sad but true” files:  Somewhere, at this very moment, people are taking pictures that don’t have any cats in them.  To remedy this injustice, there’s CatPaint, an iPhone app that populates any pic with prosh pouncy purriness pronto.

And as if that weren’t enough, the app drives other cats insane (OK, more insane):

Spotted by Susy P.

Karl Lagerpelt debuted his new spring collection this week to mixed reviews. Not many will want to sport the Pippi Longstalking-like waves many of his models donned while prancing down the Carpathian-walk. However, come April, you better believe that turnip decorative barrettes will be all the rage.

Your goat’s too sexy for a tan, too sexy for a tan, so sexy he looks like flan, Liliana F.

“Like, maybe it’s just the catnip making me paranoid, man, but I keep seeing that same white-and-blue truck at every corner.  And it’s always parked right next to a mailbox; like, that can’t be a coincidence.”

It’s a conspiracy, I tells ya, Sandra D.

Every morning it was the same routine: Colonel Danders would make his way out to the yard to watch the sunrise, yet he never realized he was facing the wrong way until it was too late.

Less fluff, more fold, Ashley H.

‘Ello! My name is Fabio, and you-a must-a try-a my mar-i-nara!

OK, I’m sorry. I admit, I’m not Italian. And my name isn’t even Fabio. It’s Ken. Ken, as in, “Wake me when you’re done saying ‘Ken’.” I just wanted you to think I was exotic.

Eucalyptus…basil…same thing, Connor R.

Photos by Mathew Doherty

And please check out www.SaveTheKoala.com.

Oh my, what an – gulp – adorable bunny. Well, um, yes, I guess he does look like Clark Gable…though that’s not the first name that comes to mind. Say, is he, a, um…nice…rabbit?

Keep an eye on that one, Chelsea T.

So here’s what I’ve seen so far: Fred Chipmunk has been stealing the cedar shingles off your house and using them to smoke cashews. Sylvia Squirrel, she’s my wife and I love her, but she’s been taunting that panting beast you call Captain Cuddles. And Norman Gerbil? Well, let’s just say he’s still mad that you brought Captain Cuddles home, so he’s been leaving you “presents” under your pillow.

I think we’re all square here, so can I have my Cheetos now?

Googly, Sophia P.

Carl the 17-day-old kitten does not like sharing his bottle.

Izzie, the older cat sits and tries to catch a drip every time, and all Carl does is suck and glare at her.

Ariel E., thank you for bringing this look to our atten-shons and for naming your kitten ‘Carl.” Nice work.

This teacup is too small…

This teacup fits juuuuuuust right.

Narie S., it’s 4PM. You’re invited to High Bunday Tea.

This one goes out to all the siblings out there that torture each other. This video is right up there with “Why are you hitting yourself!?” Without further ado…

Jorden C. why do I get the feeling you were a torturous big Brother?

Check out the gutulence on this kid!

Still tryptophanning Martyn S.?

I may have short-sheeted your bed, Meg.

As we celebrate the season of gluttony, Winston decides to dispense with the silverware and push his face straight into his Thanksgiving feast.  Don’t tell me you haven’t considered doing this yourself at least once.

We give thanks to Rich over at FourFour!

“I leave you alone for the day, and just look at this mess! The toilet paper’s shredded, there’s trash all over the floor, a team of squirrels is running a telemarketing call center from the guest bedroom, and a man outside wants to know where to install my weapons-grade uranium centrifuge!”

Did you order these 24 pizzas, Emily D.?

Tongues wagged this week as papparazzi spotted superstars Britney Ears and Hugh Jackrabbit at a romantic getaway in Tahiti, protected by their bodyguard Bruno.

Well, I never, Carly R.

Pilgrim cataloon sweetness courtesy of Gawker.

What are you thankful for Annie J?

Coco the Boston Terrier has some guidelines for you to make it through Thanksgiving successfully.

1. Unbuttoned pants (or cataloons) so stomach can expand beyond normal perameters.
2. Take a short nap.
3. Eat a large dessert.

M & J C. Thank you for these thoughtful tips.

Oh, I couldn’t eat another bite – and I want to save room for dessert.

What do you mean you’re serving more berries and nuts? Well, do they at least come in pie form?

What a turkey, Heather W.