The black-and-white cat of many colors
If the world were black and white, Luke would have camouflage. He would blend into the background. He would be unseen, unknown. But the world is not black and white.
Epilogues: December 2024
Who is this swaggering stranger introducing itself as 2025? What did it do with 2024, or 1981 for that matter? Do cats follow any calendar, other than the primordial cycle of giblets and nuggets? And most importantly: how does Theodosia, age one hundred nine, remain untouched by years?
Epilogues: August 2020
You gave us wonder and splendor. You gave us the return of Bill and Ted (see above). You gave us the feast day of St. Augustine, and the annual pondering as to whether or not his friends called him “Gus.” You gave us an uncommonly high volume of marmalade cats.
Light on
Things can get heavy, huh? I’m talking global pandemic blues; tears for our country and world; the continuing crisis shortage of Cherry Zero; and the million million little and large agonies of ordinary life.
Epilogues: June 2020
We try to keep it real on this blog. That said, if you ever hear me utter the words “I’m keepin’ it real,” please take me gently by the hand and take me to a quiet room where you can apply duct tape to my mouth (preferably glitter duct tape).
Epilogues: January 2017
Everything old is new again. That isn’t, however, due to it being January. That’s due to the sunrise every morning, and the hope that years can’t hinder…and the cats that keep coming.
Epilogues: December 2016
Oh December. Just when we’re ready to write you off as a dastardly doer of dastardly deeds, you give us a thrill of hope, and some out-of-season kittens.
Epilogues: July 2016
If you have been, say, looking for some hot stuff, baby, this evening; perhaps even looking for some hot stuff, baby, tonight; this July has surely pleased you. The news was incendiary. The temperatures were ghost-peppery. And the cats were sizzling.
Epilogues: May 2016
Supposedly, it’s March hares that are madder than a hatter. But, ’round here, May is the month of mirthful, mind-splattering madness, courtesy of 100,000,000,000 kittens.*
Hanz & Franz revealed
Well, my friends, you wondered, you asked, you e-mailed me, you guessed… …and, amazingly, every single one of you was wrong. Hanz and Franz are not who anyone thought they were.