Posts Tagged ‘katt’

Slowing down. Turbulence.

Things are not in reserve but I have them scattered about.

Have Mrs. Reynolds in her car.


Here is Mrs. Reynolds in my chair. I don’t dare move her when her eyes do that.


More later if I get permission to post something awesome.

But first a Richard Bach quote or two… Three I hope to teach my kids, actually

Your friends will know you better in the first minute you meet than your acquaintances will know you in a thousand years.

The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other’s life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.

Argue for your limitations and sure enough, they’re yours.

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The Bunny-Deere Coincidence.

Years ago, Cruel Wife ran over a nest of baby bunnies with a mower†.

Not a hare one a single one of those bunny heads was harmed, but it shook her up miserably for the afternoon.  She was distraught with the possibilities.

Possibilities?  Two words:

Wabbitburger Helper

Actual cuts of meat would have been impossible at that point.

Why bring it up?  Because it is almost Easter, that’s why.  I’m still going to suggest cooking either a rabbit stuffed with a chicken or a chicken stuffed with a rabbit.   Hasenchicken.  Chickabun.  Flopsycock.  (Scratch that last one, eh?)  Not sure how to sell that to the kids in a way that won’t cause discord.  Perhaps blended-meat meals like Turducken should remain apart.


Are we doomed as a culture since so many of us laugh at the above strip?   Are we just bad actors in the theater of history?

Nah.  That’s funny.

† We do not own a John Deere, although I can dream…


Still no sign of Jack L. Katt.  Flyers go up tomorrow but I’m not going to get my hopes up.  At this point if he comes home I’ll kill him for making me worry about his furry dumb ass.  Damn cat.

Jack, transplanted to daughter's bunkbed without rejection.

Archival Photo:  Jack L. Katt after transplantation to HackerBoy’s bunkbed without rejection.


An e:mail chain at work involved a discussion about “esperanto” and synthetic languages.  At some point Klingon was debated because it did not show up on a list of synthetic languages, starting when Black Lab on Methamphetamines said:

Klingon isn’t there either.  It’s a list of constructed languages meant to be used, not all constructed/fictional languages.

C0-worker Inscrutable Half-Breed replied:

I’m always astounded by how many geeks and nerds I’m surrounded with at all time.

<sniff>  I love you guys…

And characteristic for my attitude this week, I responded:

I don’t.  I don’t love you guys.

How about “I really intensely tolerate you guys”?   Is that good enough?

It’s been a long couple of weeks, actually.

I’m taking Monday off, handing the kids off to the sitter for a few hours, and going with Cruel Wife to go look at a high-end antiques store purely for the enjoyment of it.


If you can handle “disturbing sports injuries”, then may I suggest you scroll down to #1 on the list at Cracked.com?  That must’ve taken balls.

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Damn Heisenberg.

Easter is around the corner. I am probably a bad man for thinking Laconic Pup’s forwarding of this picture was the high point of my week.


In other news, we have looked – 3AM last night around the neighborhood, through the house last night and today, CW walked the neighborhood today, and I walked the neighborhood just as soon as I got off work. No sign of Jack L. Katt. I keep looking out the windows and back door but no sign. We thought he was just power-napping hard and now we have no idea where he is. I wish cats were crappier physicists.

Sigh. He’s just a damn cat for fuck’s sake. Damn cat.

Meanwhile, I check the doors and the windows when CW isn’t looking and imagine him meowing outside the window of the room I am in.

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Light Week.

It may be a light week (working in overdrive this week) but heavy is the new normal.

Specifically my cat, Jilly-boo.  I may be her human, too.  She’s bonded to me, which Cruel Wife thinks is just fine since she’s kind of  tired of clingy/needy things wanting more of her attention (presumably the two kids plus me makes three).

Anyway, I got home and was getting changed into my civilian clothes (read:  Not Almost-Monkey Suit) and I saw my cat looking funny and making even funnier noises.  She was so very interested in a chipmunk that she didn’t even notice I was there.  So I got a picture.

My nickname for her is “Wide Load” because her butt flat-out waddles back and forth but this almost looks petite because I chopped off her behind.    She’s actually a very loving kitty who sits on my chest right before lights out.  Stiletto-paws and all.

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Caption for a Day.

Caught my our cat, Jack, with an odd look on his kitty face.

Pick a caption and win, folks!

Cruel Wife got me a gift.  My own Jolokia peppers!  Habaneros don’t faze me all that much, Red Savinas do at roughly twice the Scoville units.  They are roughly 250,000 and 500,000 units each.  The kids don’t eat spicy food yet so my tolerance is down… who knows what will get me any more?

The Bhut Jolokia is 1,000,000 units.  I have yet to try one because I’m trying to think of the best venue.  I’m thinking a mango/pineapple salsa, myself.  A habanero, which is naturally a fruity-flavored flesh pepper, goes well in that environment.  I’m undecided on this one.  It might be that it’d be good in a mole sauce…  let me know if you have an idea for this one.  The proper dish is critical!

Here’s Wide-Load… errrr… Jill… my kitty.  Jack is CW’s more or less although he hops from family member to family member in a laid-back sort of way.

I cropped the picture wide so she’d look a bit slenderer than what those traitorous hips of hers give away.

Lest you think that “Wide Load” is unfair, compare brother and sister… the photo was captured in a hurry on-the-fly so it’s a bit fuzzy, sorry.  It’s an illustration, not Ansel Adams in color.

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Katt Update

The cats have integrated into the household so well that… get this…

… they missed me while I was gone.

I know.  Isn’t that just the craziest thing you ever heard of?

Jack, looking very much like a cat.

Jack, transplanted to Girlhead's bunkbed without rejection.

Jilly has become “my katt”. She’s bonded with me for some reason, probably because she can get on my lap any time of the day and stay as long as her butt isn’t in physical sphincter-to-arm or sphincter-to-face contact. I happen to like her, too.

Jilly-boo, also looking very catlike. Amazing, isn't it?

Jilly, sitting up like a human, but crashed like a cat. On my lap.

Below, you will note that it is not Michigan. I was there last week and it was most certainly not Michigan. It was warm, I sat on the patio and drank a chai (addicted to the stuff), and basked in the sun in my shirt, sans jacket.

I was still painfully grateful to be home. I missed Jilly-boo. And everyone else, too. And eating my own junk food.

Orlando last week. Note the lack of snow. (embiggenifies if you click it)


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