How do cats perceive the world?
Based on a scientific study I’ve conducted over the past 40 years, which has included living with and caring for several felines, I’ve managed to draw a few conclusions. Here’s how cats see the world we share.
Cat lovers, see if you agree….
You deserve much better than this. You really do.
You once gave America greatness. You shipped us your icons. You gave us the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and the Who. We returned the favor by sending you the Miami Dolphins, Detroit Lions, Oakland Raiders, and Jacksonville Jaguars.
Talk about getting shafted! Somebody in this exchange got screwed royally, and it has nothing to do with your old blue-haired Queen. By the way, is she still alive?
Gee, I thought the barbecue tasted a little funny.
Las Vegas locals who live here on the West Side will undoubtedly remember the name “Memphis Championship Barbecue,” which opened up their family-style restaurant about 15 years ago at 1401 South Rainbow Blvd. Not to be confused with their Henderson sister location which remains open, for reasons unknown, this rib joint just never made a splash.
Meet Donald Trump’s newest challenger.
That’s right. You read it here first.
Look at the facts. The candidate leading the G.O.P. pack right now is a megalomaniac who bleaches his hair bright orange. He’s blundered his way through several failed businesses and has filed for bankruptcy four times. He rambles incoherently without a script each time he steps in front of a camera. What he says often offends millions of people. And, he’s wasted half of his life hanging out inside casinos.
If those are credentials for the most important job in the world, then I don’t just have a fighting chance. Hell, with my resume that should make me the frontrunner.
Ladies and gentlemen, I hereby announce my candidacy for President of the United States….as a Republican.\
I woke up this bright Sunday morning to the following question:
“When are we going to paint the house?”
Huh? What? Am I having a nightmare?
“When are we going to paint the house?” Marieta asked.
Indeed, this was a nightmare. Only real.
I was inclined to answer “sometime this century,” and then roll over and go back to sleep. But I knew I couldn’t get out of the discussion so easy.
“The walls look perfectly fine to me,” I replied. “Look, there’s not a scratch on them. Why do we need to paint the walls?”