Spit Hanger? Tongue Chum?

I was on the living room floor watching the Steelers. The annoying cat had been standing a foot from my head for the last hour staring at me...wanting something...annoying me.

I turned and stuck my tongue out at him and instantly he takes a swing at it. Five years ago there would be a bloody chunk of tongue chum on the floor but the four-legged fuzz ball has lost a step and I was able to roll that big pink thing back into the spit hanger just in the nick of time.

But it was a close thing and from now on I'm just going to give him the finger.

Steelers lose.