Everything old is new again. OK, maybe not Dick Clark. Or Dick Cheney. But everything else.
Any commentary I could make on the following would be superfluous, silly and wrong. So I simply say: may your weekend be as sweet as Jambalaya‘s. Thanks to AwesomeAdopter Susan for this pic, and for giving Jamba the love that makes him this blissed-out.
…with all the frills upon it, you out-cute every bunny, duck and little chicky in every storybook ever written. If, that is, you are Gabriella.
…and climbs, and runs up stairs, apparently. He also has his own e-mail address. I am not making any of this up.
What do the Tabby’s Place felines have to do with Willie Nelson? How could you compare our cats to the Partridge Family?
In a land of ice and fire and overthrown kings, you never know just who will rise to power. With all apologies to those vaguely Icelandic warrior folk over on HBO, the thrones of Tabby’s Place belong squarely to torties.
…means “hello.” (And if you’re now singing, “to Jesus, your best friend,” then you, too, are a veteran of Vacation Bible School.) But really: Jambo does mean “hello” in Swahili. And Jamba means “HELLOOOOOOOO MAMA!” in black-and-white cat. Let me explain.
You have to be careful when choosing nicknames. Chuck Norris is not a “Pinky.” Newt Gingrich is not a “Sparkles.” The guy from the Shticky commercial is not a “Professor.” Sluggo is not a “Twinkle Toes.” And Jennifer Ann is not, was not, and will never be a “Jenny.”
A popular Tumblr presents a series of “Rules of Ladies.” These pithy instructions in ladylikeness include good advice like “Always have faith in yourself,” and “Don’t let a bad day make you feel like you have a bad life,” and “You can be a formidable woman and still wear Alice-in-Wonderland bows in your hair at […]
She‘s a little bit Enya. He‘s a little bit U2. Put ’em together, and you had a sort of saucy limerick. But what happens when you split them apart?