Upon arriving home this evening after a relaxing lake house expedition, I was exceedingly pleased to discover my most treasured micro-fleece poncho blanket folded atop my bed-- and less pleased to discover that it was covered in cat hair. Upon closer inspection, I too realized that my pristine white comforter was also covered in the aforementioned fur. Were the abundance of cat hair not proof enough of Riley's newly found residence, my parents later informed me that my room is now primarily occupied by said feline. After an hour or so of denied access to his favorite lair, Riley seized the opportunity to enter the room when I took a brief recess to visit the commode-- I should add that he did so with an immediacy previously unseen in the otherwise lazy feline. I returned his micro-fleece haven to it's former position, left to clean a few dishes and returned to find him curled up, sleeping soundly. While I don't mind the presence of Riley the cat, he most certainly mind's mine. He shoots me the occasional nasty glare from the side of his eyes, as if to say "TURN OFF THE F****** LIGHTS. AND THE MUSIC. AND GET THE F*** TO BED." He is quite an honest cat, you see-- do excuse my use of expletives. I will summarize and conclude simultaneously with the following statement: Riley is utterly displeased.