Tra-la… It’s May, which means spring is about to get real. We’re talking dogwoods. Tulips. Hydrangeas. And kittens. Baby kittens. Bring on the brain-liquefying, IQ-annihilating powers of kittens and their nuclear cuteness.
Be it known: if you spend any amount of time at Tabby’s Place, you will step in it. You will step in the vomit. You will step in the excrement. And, in more ways than one, you will step in The Wet.
There’s a lot of leaping involved in what we do at Tabby’s Place. I don’t mean over dribbles of diarrhea. I don’t mean around sleeping cats. At least, I don’t mean exclusively those things. I mean leaps of the faithful kind.
I’m of the opinion that we need to have more Feast Days. Given that this isn’t the year 1287, I confess to not being entirely sure how Feast Days are conducted. But I know that there used to be a bunch of them, and I’m confident they were awesome. Basically, all the lords and ladies […]
We don’t believe in black magic at Tabby’s Place. Black-and-white magic, on the other hand, is alive and well.
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.”
I’d place Baby New Year somewhere between The Burger King and Mayor McCheese on the Creep-o-Meter. Whoever came up with the idea of representing the year with a naked, top-hatted baby…who gradually becomes a sad old Father Time carrying a sharp implement? Fortunately, Tabby’s Place has got you covered with a decidedly uncreepy Baby New […]