Oh, kittens. This time the words have finally failed me. I am besotted. I am befuddled. I am totalement tongue-tied.
Let’s get this out of the way. I realize “Captain Corelli’s Mandolin” is universally considered a terrible movie. You realize this. Morelli Rosenberg (more on him in a moment) realizes this. Unlike the rest of you with your sophisticated tastes, I do not care. I am among the proud, lonely 28% who gave it two […]
Take one melon-round head. Plunk it onto a plug of a neck; attach a body shaped like a sausage (more accurately, a “saw-seech,” per my grandmother). Pin on four stubby legs. Expand belly repeatedly. Congratulations: you have built yourself one Sadie.
Some say that the Saturn V Rocket is the loudest sound on earth. But they’re wrong. Cheela runs rings around such spacey sounds.
This post is already off to the wrong start. It’s not fair to say that the population of Suite FIV is down by one. The number “one” cannot convey the colossal tectonic event that has occurred.
Fact: the cats most likely to get FIV are unneutered, rambling, gambling males. Fact: most residents of Suite FIV at Tabby’s Place are now-neutered, reformed rambling, gambling males.
You may have heard reports of a recent luring. Don’t believe a word. Persons were indeed allured, but no luring was required.
Is there anyone out there who has managed to escape what we humans call “hurt feelings?” I hope there is; however, I can say I am not such a one.