Epilogues: August 2016
The songwriters of the world can’t quite agree about September. Some want to remember it.* Some are trying to remember it. Some just want to be awakened when it ends. And then there are the cats.
Forever Loved: Mario
Everyone is someone’s favorite, even if the only Someone is God. But Mario…Mario was everyone’s favorite.
Alumspringa
Kittens are kittens, until they are not. It’s for hard-hitting facts like this that you turn to Felis Catus.
Passing strange
The Odd Squad at Tabby’s Place has zero mere members. It does, however, have 100 co-captains.
What’s a you to do?
There’s an expression I keep hearing this summer: “You just do you.” Or, turned around, “I gotta do me.”
Golder than you’ve ever been
Here’s a pleasant thought: you are older than you’ve ever been. And now you’re even older.*
More than phoenixes
Or is that phoenii? Whatever the plural form of those birds that rise from ashes, stronger and better and more beautiful than pre-pyre, we’ve met more magical creatures this summer.
Epilogues: July 2016
If you have been, say, looking for some hot stuff, baby, this evening; perhaps even looking for some hot stuff, baby, tonight; this July has surely pleased you. The news was incendiary. The temperatures were ghost-peppery. And the cats were sizzling.
Mud-slingers
Now this is just ridiculous. People seeking the highest office in the land may call each other losers and liars, but even they have the good sense not to excrete upon their opponents. Cats have no such decorum.