Bloom
Don’t do it, kittens. Don’t you dare let them underestimate you.
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I hope today gives you what you want. But I trust today will give you what you need.
There’s something about September that makes us wistful. By “us,” naturally, I mean exclusively humans. Cats are mercifully devoid of all the wist that twists us in nostalgic knots.
“The Final Countdown” may be your #1 favorite song. You may enjoy using words like “ergo” and “hence” as frequently as possible. You may only and always consume day-old bagels (and pronounce them “beggles”). You may stop what you’re doing every day at noon to pray for the Pope’s sciatica. You cannot possibly be too […]
It is not all good. It is not all bad. I’m talking about this day, this week, this year, this life we share, like it or not.
Few among us would say we’ve been having the time of our lives at this particular time in history. But it’s the time we’ve been given — the only one. Isn’t it time we made the best of it? Where has expert timing taken care of you, even now, especially now?
It is my solemn privilege to remind you today that you are the human equivalent of 2,000 chocolate bars. I hope you already knew that.
You’ve done it; I’ve done it; I strongly suspect we will both do it again. I’m talking about talking trash about 2020. I think we might have overdone it just a touch.
It’s in the jokes-in-your-head that no one else hears. (“This new loofah just might be the LOOF OF MY LIFE!”) It’s in the perfect hair days seen only by the Amazon delivery man. (“Lookin’ spiffy, Ma’am.”) But is happiness unshared ergo unreal?
Oh kittens. It is my sweet privilege to bring you a great many great and glorious things on this blog. But what you are about to experience is surely a peak Felis Catus moment.