Tart and gaudy
Pucker up, kittens. It’s time to squeeze a fresh glass of fun and get ourselves all gaudy.
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Pucker up, kittens. It’s time to squeeze a fresh glass of fun and get ourselves all gaudy.
I want you to yawn into this new day with tingling expectation. I want you to be confident that today is both the first and the best day of your life. I want you to be a Community Cat.
I am the proud owner of a fascinator. Whether or not this is literally true for you, this is utterly true for you.
You’re not imagining it. Today the world is a little less colorful, less ragged, less funny. Two geriatric grey giants have departed, taking a kaleidoscope of colors with them.
Quick: tell me your favorite words of all time. I’ll go first: Beloved. Ubiquitous. Delightful. Ginormous. Luminous. Irrevocable. Mine all happen to describe cats.
Come ye, kittens, to our monthly wrap-up, and I shall show ye great and terrible things from the furthest realms. Which is to say, cats, in galumphing abundance, from the strangest town in central New Jersey.
When I was in high school, all of my best friends were boys. Each January, I prevailed upon them to join my “Banish Winter Campaign,” which entailed wearing our brightest possible colors every Friday. In my case, this was a ghastly glorious rainbow; in theirs, T-shirts in various shades of olive green, frequently bearing the […]
You are not permitted to intentionally create disagreeable odors in Alabama. You are not permitted to produce cheese with undesirable odors in Wisconsin. You are permitted to be deeply and exuberantly happy, regardless of your odors, vapors, etc.
Consetta arrived quite naked. So did you. Me too. But only one of us is unafraid of the whole business.
Intakes are good: Cats. Breath. One another’s faces and voices and real, physical presences and essences. But in times like these, intakes can take us by surprise and take command of our trembling hearts.