Party gras

Today marks the eve of Lent, that serious season when folks make a spiritual practice of fasting from such things as injustice and selfishness and chocolate and Facebook. But before all that introspective stuff, folks get fat, Tuesday-style. So, of course, do cats.

Ageless impitude

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 […]