I guess it makes me a Bohemian?

(Title by the inestimable Willy Shakespeare)

 

My 42nd birthday is less than a month away. On the one hand – ew, 42.
On the other – hey! I’ll be The Answer for the entirety of 20121.

I’m actually not fazed by the upcoming calamity natal event. Truth to tell, I am a little more disconcerted by the odor coming from the kitty room. Holy vile fetor, Batman!

In just over a decade, I will be able to clear out a house with just one wee fart.

Thank goodness its trash day.  That’s the one thing that you never hear about when you first adopt that wiggly little black kitten.  At the time, all you can think is “ohlookitthefuzzywittlekitty!”  But the catbox smell once she hits her geriatric years could knock as buzzard off a honeywagon2.
I should probably cut her some slack. After all, she’s approaching eleventy-billion in human years. I bet my bowels won’t be so sweet when I am her age.

What was I talking about again?

Oh, yeah. The end of the world.
How the heck did I manage to get this far without blowing something u… Hmm.  What I mean to say is, I can’t believe I made it to 42. I sincerely thought that I would be dead by now. There’s probably some psychological reason that teens/young adults cannot fathom being any older than 30. Especially gothy teen/young adults who write bad poetry. However, right as I made the turn into my thirties, the Girl was born. I’ve been too busy since then to contemplate writing any exceptionally dismal poetry about caves.

I am DEEPLY amused by the fact that Googling "dank & dismal cave" returns this image as one of the hits.

Probably for the best. My poetry – all of it – was never terribly good. Lots of gloomy references and more adjectives than the traffic could bear. Emily Dickenson would’ve wept3.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1 – In very fact, my birthday – the day I turn 43 – is the end of the world, according to certain prophets and other lunatics. Consider this your warning: The chocolate had better be phenomenal, or POOF! No more world for you.
2 – You will never guess where I heard that particular phrase.
3 – Not in a good way, either.

from takhisis , myself and a couple of other folks as well

Dearest Universe,

Knock it the fuck off with the scaring of the kitteh owners. Srsly, not even funny, at all, ever.

DIAF you fucking Nazi shithead,
~Us

*-*-*-*

Several folks I know of – via the virtual world and in “Real Life” have had some pretty bad/expensive/heartrending scares just recently.
I myself have had one of my kitties go MIA. He’s been gone just over three weeks. Cannot find him anywhere. 😦 The pounds/clinics/hospitals don’t have him. We haven’t been contacted. He’s just gone.


Xamot, MIA

Also. I walked into the bedroom the other day. Saw my cat on the bed. Called her name. No answer “blat”, no movement. Couldn’t tell she was moving at all. Scuttled over and touched her. She still didn’t move. I petted her head again and she finally woke up. Apparently she had just been deeply asleep.
Now, I don’t know if that is a normal behavior for cats — but it was certainly the first time I had seen anything like that with Macha. Do they start sleeping harder when they get older?


Her Macha-ness demands pettins