That’s nothing; my cats can do a full orchestral score, a Line dance, and mouth vacuum the kitchen floor without opening either eye or moving off their warm spot.
When she was just a kitten I had my cat doing folk songs and disco demonstrations for my wife. Now all I have to do is sound the opening guitar twang from "A Horse With No Name" (for some reason that became her signature song) and my cat's body goes limp and her eyes glaze over as she prepares for three or four minutes of existential angst.
And once every six weeks we whisper the dreaded words "bath time" across the room at her and watch as she simulates moss and lichen. When we get up and slowly cross the room toward her softly breathing "bath time, bath time," she attempts to hide within the carpet and makes these wierd "meh meh meh" sounds that she otherwise never makes. Then we take her to the tub and she endures about fifteen minutes of existential angst followed by about twenty hours of bitterly resentful drying time.
A cat with ennui. I love it. I love the way she just accepts the moments for all the other joys she has in her joyless life. Do they have therapy for cats? Maybe catnip therapy.
I forever stand vigilant to protect this planet from the myriad of forces that are always against us. Be it the octopus, zombies, aliens or the robots my team of human agents, and our feline allies, circle the globe in a never ending struggle for human freedom.
I learn all I can on every subject that interests me. I especially enjoy ancient history because in the past there are valuable lessons to be found. Also, if I ever get my time machine to work properly, it would be good to know a bit about possible destinations and what to expect when I get there.
I greatly appreciate beautiful design. Be it manufactured or found naturally I am fascinated by the process of invention. I am attracted to the unique, the strange, the haunted. I like to share what I find on this blog.
And not let us forget the 'Cephalopod Menace' who, if allowed to, would wrap their tentacles around all that is good and pure in this life and crush it until it remained no more. They are creatures of pure spite. Hate is all they know. Death is all they do. They are our most ruthless and determined enemy.
So we fight. Selena has the celebrity contacts, the cat is ruthless and without pity, Roosevelt's ghost has the experience and I do the wetwork.
Fighting for the future of the planet doesn't have to be a chore, however. We can take the time to appreciate all that is cool in this world even as we cut the octopus into bite sized chunks.
This is the reason there has always been and must forever be, a Cave of Cool. Be sure to wipe your feet before you enter.
5 comments:
That’s nothing; my cats can do a full orchestral score, a Line dance, and mouth vacuum the kitchen floor without opening either eye or moving off their warm spot.
But do I see that on the You Tubes? No. So how can I believe that your world really exists?
When she was just a kitten I had my cat doing folk songs and disco demonstrations for my wife. Now all I have to do is sound the opening guitar twang from "A Horse With No Name" (for some reason that became her signature song) and my cat's body goes limp and her eyes glaze over as she prepares for three or four minutes of existential angst.
And once every six weeks we whisper the dreaded words "bath time" across the room at her and watch as she simulates moss and lichen.
When we get up and slowly cross the room toward her softly breathing "bath time, bath time," she attempts to hide within the carpet and makes these wierd "meh meh meh" sounds that she otherwise never makes. Then we take her to the tub and she endures about fifteen minutes of existential angst followed by about twenty hours of bitterly resentful drying time.
A cat with ennui. I love it. I love the way she just accepts the moments for all the other joys she has in her joyless life. Do they have therapy for cats? Maybe catnip therapy.
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