OK, I know this isn't a great picture, but let me explain:

This morning Gus and I were engaged in the Rolling Ball of Hatred- continuing our epic yet occasional battle for feline supremacy. He generally has an advantage because he has claws, but today I got a mouthful of hair and ripped it out of the sucka. It was flying everywhere!

The Woman thought it was funny that I couldn't get the hair out of my mouth, though, and she took this picture to commemorate the occasion. See it? See my little Goatee of Victory? Remember this day, Friends of Charlie, when I came out of the RBOH victorious.

Eew... my mouth tastes like the chubby one. Sick.