As it happens, Denni is telling Heather and Bucca and me a thing or two about trying gracefully.
Some of them try too hard. Some of them try too little. Some of them try moderately. All of them live in my office.
Let it never be said that May is monotone. Stuff went down this past month, kittens. Billy Ray Cyrus returned to the radio, achy-breaking all of our ears if not our spirits. The President of the United States of America presented a very large trophy to a very large man at the Grand Sumo tournament. […]
Don’t call it a misspelling. It’s a poet’s prerogative to play with language like a Slinky.
It’s not just her ear. It’s not just her past. It’s your very heart in the presence of Jaguar. They’re all a little shredded.
Marsala means mushrooms. Marsala means wine. Marsala means marvelosity of major proportions.
All cats are great. All cats are good. Comparison is the thief of joy. But sometimes, dangit, there truly can only be one.
It is universally known that Max was a king among cats. So it’s only right that it takes a full battalion of “normal” felines to replace him.