They are often haughty and aloof. They have a serious aversion to bathing. They eat disgusting things. They prefer their females unshaven. They are certain of their superiority to the point of arrogance even though they are neutered. But unlike the French, these boys are sweet, lovable fur balls who do not care for Jerry Lewis movies. And they never, ever surrender.

Name: CFOMahm
Home: Metro Detroit, Michigan, United States
About Me: Italian/Polish (yes, that does make me both opinionated and dense, but there is definitely good eating at my house!). Fan of bad jokes, crossword puzzle addict, old enough to know better, but still young enough not to care. Known to the Gang of Three as "Mommy Cat - Almighty Keeper of the Can Opener and Mistress of the Front Door".
See my complete profile

Monday, March 27, 2006

Proud New Owner

Well I went and bought my domain. "My Cats Are French" is no longer only a site on or wowway or msn.groups. I’ve got locked up. Just about as traumatic as closing on a house. I’m waiting for “buyer remorse” to kick in. But REALLY I feel like - "Yertle, the Turtle, oh marvelous me. For I am the ruler of all that I see." (Thank you Dr. Seuss.) Don’t quite know how I am gonna convert this all over, but I am glad to have decided to make the move after only 4 months of blogging and not 4 years. It took all day to claim my domain and move this blog. I am no techie and though I can do basic things, it was scary to try to figure out who to register the domain with, what kind of support will I get, what’s the best deal, what will be easiest to figure out. Hope I won’t be disappointed. Had to fill in waaaaaay too many forms wanting user names and passwords (I made a file to try and keep them all straight.) Feeling schizophrenic about who I am right now and what my name is. LOL But so far, so good. It all doesn’t look exactly the same, but it is close enough. I was having nightmares and getting ulcers from thinking of the amount of work it would take to move everything manually. Word Press was able to import all my posts, archives and comments. I need to fix headings and links and pics, but that is small potatoes compared to trying to do the rest from the beginning. Hopefully by the end of April (Hey, I'm a slow learner and technophobic to boot.) all will be redirected to my new home.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

Cat Toys For Less

Please God, give me the sense to quit buying fancy cat toys at extravagant prices. Will I ever remember that what they really want is the tab from the top of a milk jug, an old sock filled with catnip, or a few sheets of tissue paper? Biggie is going to tame that tissue paper. Zath'ras is laying low, waiting for the paper to make a move. Pumpkin has his paper subdued and is resting on his laurels. (Check out the size of those laurels!)

Friday, March 24, 2006

The Ark Is Boarding

The Friday Ark is boarding over at The Modulator. Last week the boys were a bit too late to get on board, but I have sent my submission for the cat section plenty early this time. The Ark is not just for kitties, though they are my personal favorites. There is room on the Ark for all sorts of animals. Submit your favorite photos by going to the site and following the simple directions at the top. Some animals have boarded already, but as the day goes by there will be more and more guests. And don't forget to find a picture or two for the upcoming Carnival Of The Cats to be hosted by Scribblings. Visit there to get more info, or just use this handy Carnival submission form. All entiries are due by 6pm CST on Sunday. (You can use the submission form to board the Ark also.)

Sunday, March 19, 2006

It's No Myth

A new addition to my blogroll, The Religious Policeman, has a lot of great reading. Mr. A is a Saudi living in the U.K. and he is one terrific writer. Today's story about having to go shopping with his wife in Saudi Arabia to protect her "from the mythically lecherous Lebanese men" is LOL funny.

As we have prejudices about virtually every nation in the world, it won't be a surprise that we have strong prejudices about our fellow-Arabs, the Lebanese. We see them as "smoothies", louche, French-influenced, into all sort of Haram entertainment, particularly belly-dancing and cabaret-singing, although their cooking is quite good.
I have some experience dealing with Middle Eastern men & Lebanese men in particular.. Indeed they do think they are God's gift to women. My first day living in Dearborn, Michigan I was walking down the street and two of them pulled up beside me in their Pontiac Firebird (THE cruising-for-chicks car of choice for young males at the time) and wanted to know if I'd like to go for a ride. They looked like a couple of "wild & crazy guys" and added that they had Led Zeppelin tapes. Whew-wee!! Now there's a an offer I found hard to refuse. Those silver-tongued devils almost talked me into it. /sarc off The rest of my two years in Dearborn were pretty much downhill from there. Same old, same old. I'm no beauty to be sure, but I don't have a face that frightens small children. I was young then (early twenties). And I was blond. Guessing I must have looked pretty stupid/naive too. Not a day went by that I didn't get hit on by at least one gold-chain-sporting, too-much-cologne-wearing, glib-talking jackass. This one in which he explains the Muslim Offense Level (similar to our Terrorist Alert Level) is excellent also. Right now we are at "Elevated"...
Meaning - We are definitely cross, because people keep blaming us for 9/11, Parisian cars getting torched, Saudi women getting stoned Non-Muslim response - Pretend that these things have nothing to do with Islam or Muslims, tell everyone how we brought algebra to 9th Century Spain Consequence of non-compliance - We will cause even more mayhem. Did you leave your car out in the street?
Definitely worth a visit & a bookmark.

Carnival Of The Cats Turns Two!

Time for the 104th Carnival Of The Cats. This 2nd anniversary edition of the Carnival is being hosted by Music and Cats. A big thank you to Kimberly! Go visit the grand birthday bash here to get your fill of sweet, sassy and silly kitties.

Sometimes Paranoid People Have Real Enemies

Gates of Vienna brings us this button that I would wear proudly if someone could make them up. CafePress perhaps? The Baron notes,

The term “Islamophobe” is fast joining “racist”, “homophobe”, et al., as a reliable tool of politically-correct argument, a way of silencing the Left’s opponents and consigning dissenters to the phobic outer darkness beyond the pale of polite discourse.
The Baron has made it into a small size also, suitable for a sidebar if anyone would like to include it on their blog or web page as I have done. Get it here. I don't believe there is a darn thing wrong with being a bit phobic about people who have made it quite clear, on numerous occassions, that they WANT TO KILL YOU!!!! Seems like common sense. And at the risk of not sounding PC & "tolerant", they had best be fearing me too. I didn't buy my guns for skeet shooting.

Wide World Of Web

Spanning the globe to bring you a constant variety of entertainment... A hat tip to Ace Of Spades for alerting us to this product. Thank goodness the company goes into so much detail about how to use their product, I'd never have known what to do. (Perhaps that info is for the ROPers who are accustomed to using use their hand or a rock.) And it brings us to the question of the day - Fold or Crumple? (I prefer crumpled.) And while we are talking about crap, Laurence Simon at This Blog Is Full Of Crap has a sad story of yet another Palestinian work accident here. No virgins for you Abdul. You failed to take out any infidels when you blew your dumb ass up. Over at Joe Sherlock's The View Through The Windshield he writes about the possibility of GM going bankrupt. Joe seems to think it is unavoidable. A sample...

All of us are convinced that GM is well on its way to bankruptcy. Forget sophisticated cash flow analysis, reading the details of 10-K filings, etc. It's a gut feel - based on lack of good product, GM's severe and continuing misreading of the market, the number of GM cars seen in rental lots, the substantial off-price deals being offered on most models ('March Madness' being the latest) and the lack of interest by any of our friends in owning anything made by GM. Oh, and the fact that it's trying to sell GMAC - its most profitable entity - is a big signal, too. Another tip-off is the bankruptcy of several key Tier I suppliers.
Joe knows the auto industry. If he thinks it's this bad, I believe it.

One of my car buddies remarked, "Because of warranty issues that might result from these bankruptcies, I can't - in good conscience - recommend a Ford or GM product to anyone. It hurts me to do this (he's been a loyal Ford man for 40+ years) but I'm telling people to check out Honda and Toyota if they're thinking of a new car."

Go read the whole thing. Scroll down to March 15th. And finally we have video of a a rather insane dog. Be sure to have your speakers turned up as you watch him try to protect his chew toy from a perceived thief.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Biggie - The Bad, Bad Bunny Biter

The Easter Bunny will not be making his scheduled deliveries. Blame Mr. Bigglesworth. (If you are really sensitive and/or really unaware of the natural instincts of cats, DO NOT scroll down.) Elmer Fudd says "He's a wabbit swayer!" Mr Bigglesworth was just culling the herd. Any bunny with parents dumb enough to still be living in our yard probably will not live long anyway and should be cut out of the gene pool. I mean really, I have had cats for the entire time we have lived in this house. No rabbits until the last 5 years. What do they not understand about the smell of cat pi**? Kind of a "Hey, maybe we shouldn't live here" signal in my book. I used to get upset and go outside hollering at the cats, turning the hose on them to get 'em to let the bunnies loose. (Did you know rabbits can scream? I didn't.) But I have finally decided the heck with it. Survival of the fittest. I just wish I had noticed that Mr. B. was carrying something before I let him in the house. When I finally saw what he had, it scared the B'jezus out of me. (Boy did he growl at his brothers and I as we tried to take it away from him.)

Michael Gets His Stone

Well, I have finally done the hardest part. The hardest part for me anyway - everyone is different and there is no right or wrong in this situation.

Today I bought a tombstone for my son.

Back in August of 2005, when Cindy Sheehan had first come into public view, Dymphna, at Gates Of Vienna wrote an open letter to her - no sarcasm, no reproach, just a letter from one grieving mother to another. People who have lost a child belong to a group that none hope or plan to join. And no matter how much we want to, there is no leaving the group - ever. I found a lot of what Dymphna said about her loss to be so true for myself also. But I had not been able to sort things out into any way that made sense - they were just random thoughts flying around wildly in my totally scattered brain. Dymphna's words helped to clarify some of my feelings.
When a husband or wife dies, we call the surviving partner the widow or widower. Why do you think it is that there is no one word to describe our condition, Cindy? Mother-of-a-dead-child is the best we can do? The lack of a name gives you some inkling how much our culture avoids the knowledge of this sorrow. If we named it we'd have some power over it. But the condition you and I share is unnamed because since time immemorial parents have dreaded this loss. It is the worst. There is nothing else that can be done to us. A motherless child is a pitiful creature and carries a life-long emptiness he or she tries to fill with other grown-ups. A childless mother is a crazy person and nothing can fill the hole, not if she had a baby a year for the rest of her life. Do you have other children? I have three. And when people ask me, pleasantly, "how many children do you have?" I look at them blankly. It is all I can do to not to run screaming from the room.
Oh so true. I hate being asked that. Not because it hurts, but because I honestly do not know how to answer. If I say "One", I feel I am dishonoring or ignoring that Michael ever existed. If I say "Two", the next question invariably is "How old are they?" Now that is a whole new answer to ponder. Will Michael be 25 this year or does he forever stay 22? If I say "Two, but one passed away." the questioner is taken aback - sure they have hurt me and sorry they ever asked. (They haven't - I enjoy thinking of Michael. It keeps him alive in my heart.)
Let me tell you the most important thing, Cindy: none of this matters. Not one piece of it. The only important part, the only piece with any real existence is Casey's death. He is as gone as though he never existed. And you are so filled with sorrow and grieving you do not see how you will ever turn back from this road of vengeful crying out like some prophet who has wandered in from the desert. Perhaps you never will. Not all of us come back, and certainly none of us return as the people we were before our child died. We are some other person, a stranger even to ourselves sometimes. But you will be less afraid of death yourself. Your son has gone before you, and that is harder than our own passing. Much, much harder. The lump in your throat will probably never disappear either.
Absolutely on the mark. I do not fear death at all. I fear lingering in pain beforehand, but Death will reunite me with my child. He will be waiting for me just as I remember him. And he will recognize me even though I will have changed much. I will hold him once more, touch his hair, hear his voice, see his smile. Finally the empty, dull, stabbing feeling in my heart will be gone for good.
Well. When you own a burial plot it is you who decides what headstone will go there. And if you decide there will be no headstone, then no headstone it is. So my beloved Shelagh, despite our entreaties, lies in an unmarked grave and I cannot bear to go visit where she lies there because of that. For a long time, I considered her father's behavior simply cruel and evil, but having had these two years to contemplate such a bizarre thing, I have come to think that perhaps it is his way of not having to face her death. No headstone? No dead daughter. It makes a crazy kind of sense, doesn't it?
This was the big truth I learned from Dymphna. I had not done anything about a marker for Michael. I knew what I wanted in precise detail. I just hadn't managed to get around to it somehow. You would think that would be so important that one would fly to the monument company to get the job done yesterday. Dymphna's words made me realize that I wanted so hard to deny his death that I could not bear the thought of seeing my son's name chiseled in cold marble. Everything else I had done without hesitation... I had handled all the funeral arrangements. I went to the undertaker's to see Michael when they brought him home. They advised me not to, fearing I would become hysterical, but I had to see my child, as he really was, one more time before the funeral directors got hold of him and did their work. I did not break down. I prepared and printed the memorials myself. I did not want some sterile, generic, impersonal cards for my son. I wanted his pictures, my thoughts, my selections for his final tribute. I did a good job for him. I went and selected his burial plot. I found a suitable, lovely, peaceful, thoroughly unwanted place. I recorded 4 cd's of music to be played at his wake - I did not want the mindless drone selected by the funeral home, the one-size-fits-all variety. There were my favorites, his father's favorites, his grandmother's favorites. Some of Michael's favorites too. Everyone liked the music. I selected his pallbearers. It was hard to ask his friends and his brother & sister to do this, but they all were glad to have been asked. He would have approved of the choices. I prepared a eulogy and read it myself at his service. It was difficult to do, but I did not falter. I picked and recorded the music for his funeral. I know he was pleased to hear the Dropkick Murphys' version of "Amazing Grace" being played as he was carried to the hearse. And finally, I stayed at the cemetary as they laid him in the ground. (An unheard of thing in our area.)I brought three shovels and buried my child, with help from his brother and a few close friends who also wanted the privilege of doing the last they could for my precious son. I did that all because there was no choice, it had to be done. If I could/would not do it, someone else would have to and no way was I willing to relinquish those details to anyone. I am his Mother. But the stone....the stone. It did not have to be done. That was more than I could bear. It would be the last thing I could ever do for him. If I could just avoid dealing with that, somehow it would never really be over. Never really be true. But the time is at hand. Summer will be here - Michael's third summer in that place. His spot needs to be marked. His friends go and leave flowers. I want more than an unmarked spot for my child. And I am strong enough now to do it. The stone will not be the end. I am ready to face the fact that the end was nearly two years ago no matter how hard I try to run from that. I can still tend his space. I can make sure it is fertilized and weeded and decorated. That I can do for him. Make sure his grass is the greenest, his flowers the brightest. Remember Michael with love and laughter, and of course, tears. That is what I can do for him now. I am ready to give him his stone. Thank you Dymphna.

Friday, March 17, 2006

Carnival Of The Cats

OK, this week will be the 2nd Anniversary of the Carnival Of The Cats. Sorry about screwing up the anniversary date last week. Thank you to Music and Cats for hosting this Sunday's event. You can make your submisiions up until 6pm CST Sunday by clicking here on Ferdy's handy carnival submission form. A big thank you to Laurence Simon of This Blog Is Full Of Crap for starting the COTC! A must see for anyone who is anyone. (And all us nobodies too.)

St. Patrick's Day Catblogging

Well the boys don't really care for corned beef too well (they'd rather have pork). So for the holiday I decided to give them mass quantities of catnip. It all started out fine. Everyone was having fun. But you know how what happened. Someone always ends up overindulging and getting a tad belligerent, trying to pick a fight. Biggie is feeling froggy, and Pumpkin is not about to back down. And finally all hell breaks loose. The picture wouldn't have been so blurry, but the photographer was beatin' feet when she heard the noises coming out of these two. If you would like to see some better behaved kitties (and then again, maybe not) please check out the Friday Ark at The Modulator.

Cat Butts

Mind of Mog has a cat that believes in fastidiousness. Check Bazel out. I wish I were that limber. I also wish my brats would try cleaning their butts a bit more frequently. (Especially Pumpkin - a dirty butt shows up so badly on an orange cat.) The boys like to stroll down the stairs ahead of me most mornings and it is sure not an appetizing sight to be greeted by three dirty cat asses winking at you before you've even had that first cup of coffee. I'd try to wash their butts myself, but at 20+ pounds minimum per cat, I would have to have assistance. Probably protective gear of some sort also.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Well, I am not Irish, but I do have a couple of half-Irish sons. I put the eldest on a plane to Boston yesterday morning. It will be his third year in a row spending the holiday there. His best friend, who moved to Indianapolis this year, arrived on a later flight. I imagine they are having quite the time by now. The eldest belongs to The Irish-American Society, hopes to join the Gaelic League when he is eligible, and is beginning to study Gaelic. He says his goal is to eventually be Grand Marshall of the St. Patrick's Day parade here. An honorable ambition to my mind. (Although personally I would be just a smidge more thrilled if he took some interest in learning Polish and being president of the Michigan Polka Association.) Best wishes to all the sons & daughters of Ireland on your special day. Thanks for helping to build this great nation.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Cats As Guards

Got to sleep in this morning (til 6am!). Went to descend the steps from the bedrooms and what do I find? All 3 of the boys, lined up in the same order as they do for their food dishes, sleeping at the edge of the top step. Can't possibly make it to the first tread, 'cause they are so wide & so long & packed so dense that I can't get around 'em. (Well I could've, if I'd been willing to stomp/kick one of them, but they hadn't held me prisoner long enough to justify that sort of behavior.) Have to beg and plead and cajole to get one of them to move enough so I can get to the downstairs. The little suckers are cunning. They are learning more every day how to work in concert. I fear for the future.

Taquiya & Jihad

Cox & Forkum have it right about CAIR. They ain't foolin' me. I've lived in (or near) Dearborn for the last 32 years. Taquiya to the max. The Koran says it is perfectly OK to lie to infidels. Why do so many people persist in taking them at their word for anything . And then there is this lovely woman running for a seat on the Palestinian legislative council (that is so many oxymorons I don't even know where to begin.). She wishes she had "100 sons to sacrifice." Well, I for one, will be happy if she merely sacrifices all the ones she has - hopefully before they reproduce. (Hope he** doesn't run out virgins before her youngest becomes a "martyr". ) /sarc Gonna make me wear a burka or hijab - yeah right. Come on over here and try to do it lady. I turned 50 today but I have no doubt I can take her.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

I Blew It

Thanks To Steve for pointing out to me that the 2nd anniversary of The Carnival Of The Cats will be next Sunday, the 19th of March. But that does not in any way detract from this week's COTC (the final Carnival of year #2) being hosted by Justin's Random Thoughts. Click on over and have a look. Pretty, sassy, silly felines of every stripe can be seen here.

Saturday, March 11, 2006

To Hell With Understanding

Emperor Darth Misha I of the Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler does a terrific fisking of Karen Armstrong's article from today's The Guardian. Her stupidity in the face of Islamofacism makes me ill. What don't the LLLs get about this threat? How can they be so stupid as to not realize the true agenda of the politcal-system-disguised-as-a-religion known as Islam? Nor do they realize that they & their ilk will not be killed last, they will be killed first. The Emperor is on a roll with this one. Just wish he wouldn't hold back so much and would let us all know what he really thinks. /sarc off Here's a sample, read it all. (Article in black, Emperor in red.)

The Muslim view that the west has double standards has been entrenched, and reconciliation postponed And the view among non-Dhimmis that muslims are a bunch of savage, howling monkeys who’ll use any excuse to burn, rape, pillage and murder has been proven true. So what’s your point? The crisis occasioned by the Danish cartoons, which depicted the prophet Muhammad as a terrorist, And he wasn’t? Some remedial koran-reading would seem to be in order here. Oh, and don’t you just love the assertion that the crisis was “occasioned by the Danish cartoons?” Those poor misunderstood muslims who understandably demonstrated, murdered and burned down embassies and churches were completely innocent. After all, in the opinion of the tolerant and inclusive natterati, you can’t very well expect anything else from the darkies, can you? The Emperor hits it out of the ballpark again. I get so sputtering angry and incoherent when I read things like Ms. Armstrong's or talk to dhimmis like her. The PC, "tolerant" crowd. I never know where to begin deconstructing their fallacious reasoning. Thank you Emperor.

Spotted While Surfing

A few interesting things I came across while sipping my coffee this morning. Over at Ace Of Spades you can find a picture of the newest taste treat to be introduced at the ballpark - a burger topped with cheese & bacon. Big deal you say. Oh but wait. The special bun it is served on is what makes my arteries harden just thinking about it. Check it out here. Leslie's Omnibus brings us this little bit of silly fun.


Name / Username:

Huge? Huge?!!! WTF? Sure I am chowing down a lot more since quitting smoking, but I'm not huge - yet. And meekness is certainly not one of strong suits - especially not after a couple glasses of wine. However, I do wholeheartedly agree with fabulous and mischievous. Cat Addiction has video of a cat masseuse at work. The dog seems to be just as content as the kitty. Here's the link. Coffee's kicking in. Time to get to work.

Milosevic Dies In Jail

Well good riddance. The man was horrible and hopefully now situated in the seventh level of hell with Hitler, Stalin & Pol Pot, among others. I like the irony of his eternal punishment including bunking with the Muslim terrorist leader Arafat. Although he was a murdering bastard, Milosevic was correct when he warned the western nations that we would find out about and have to deal with the problems of Islamic savagery. I guess it's true that even a broken clock is right twice a day.

AMSTERDAM (Reuters) - Former Yugoslav President Slobodan Milosevic has died, the UN tribunal said on Saturday, just months before his war crimes trial was expected to conclude. "Milosevic was found lifeless on his bed in his cell at the United Nations detention unit," the tribunal said in a statement. "The guard immediately alerted the detention unit officer in command and the medical officer. The latter confirmed that Slobodan Milosevic was dead."
Read it all here.

Friday, March 10, 2006

Carnival Of The Cats 2nd Anniversary!

This Sunday will mark the 2nd anniversary of The Carnival Of The Cats. Wow! Nice to see how this has grown. I lurked for months and finally started a blog just so my boys could participate.This is certainly the time to break out your best/favorite/funniest/sweetest cat pix to share with everyone. The host for this mega event will be Music & Cats. You can learn all about the Carnival here. If you already have a blog and would like to make a submission, you can just click on Ferdy's handy form here. If you don't have a blog - well gee wiz - get goin'. Your cats will thank you.

Friday Ark Is Setting Sail!

Hoping the boys can still get on the Ark before it leaves port. Ark's make you think of twosomes, but we have three brothers, so Pumpkin has consented to dress like a bird and hope he can find a spare partner. He is larger than his brothers and therefore is unafraid of the consequences of wearing a bird costume around them. Check out the Modulator here for lots of pretty pets.

In Spring, A Young Cat's Fancy Turns To...

Today was the first day to seem like spring. You could smell it in the air. It smelled wet & wormy - the wind was gusting just right for kite flying. The birds were hollering. And there was this strange, orange, glowing thing in the sky. Haven't seen that for months it seems. Our winter was mild as far as snowfall and cold, but my god it was gray and dreary. Usually the brilliant glare of the sun on the snow has me needing to wear shades more than in summertime. Came home from work to find all "the boys" out front. Zath'ras was doing his thing - rolling in the dust on the driveway. Biggie was trotting down the porch to greet me, and Pumpkin was ensconced on the table beneath the front window. His human Daddy had placed a nice fluffy towel on the tabletop so a cat could get cozy and comfy. The CEO had also opened one of the front windows (sans bug screen) so that the gang could run in and out - and in & out and in & out.... all day long. There are only a couple of months in early spring & late fall when the bug population is low enough to allow the boys the luxury of free rein for their comings and goings. Also the only couple months when the humans are not slaves to the cats who can never seem to get it together enough to all go out or come in at once. A normal day - 7am - Biggie out. Pumpkin looks but doesn't move. Zath'ras sleeps. 7:10am - Pumpkin out. Zath'ras looks but doesn't move. 7:25am - Zath'ras out, Pumpkin in. 7:45am - Biggie in, Pumpkin out. 7:55am - Zath'ras in, Biggie out. 8:10am - Pumpkin out. 8:11am - Biggie in. 8:12am - Biggie out. 8:15am - Zath'ras in. 8:19am - Biggie in. And so it continues all day. CEO Dad is new to this game having only retired a few months ago. He still finds it charming and amusing. But it has been winter. The boys have been much less demanding. CFO Mahm will be waiting to see how the CEO feels about it after a few more months.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Ban The Auto-Flush Toilet!

Nick Schulz over at Slate has a wonderfully funny article about The Crappiest Invention of All Time - Why the auto-flushing toilet must die. I am squarely in his corner on this one. Hate those damn things. The first one I encountered scared the sh*t out of me (well it would have had I not already ... well, you know.). Here's a sample... "To understand why hands-free toilet technology stinks, you must first understand three things that any well-designed loo should permit you to do. 1) Clean the pool. You must be able to flush the toilet easily before sitting down, in case any detritus remains from a previous, inconsiderate visitor. 2) Clean the pool, again. You must be able to flush more than once after you are done. Some of us are more prolific than others, and courteous patrons will want to ensure that Point 1 is unnecessary for whomever follows. 3) Issue a courtesy flush. If you plan to settle down with the sports page, you should flush immediately after dropping the kids at the pool. There's no need to let the kids linger any longer than absolutely necessary. This is for the benefit of other visitors. Remarkably, the automatic-flush toilet makes all three of these tasks more difficult." Nick also has a few issues with those hands free faucets. Gosh I despise those too. I almost ripped the first one I saw right out of the sink, yanking and pushing and pulling, trying to figure out how to turn the damn thing on. Read the whole article - it is quite funny.

Monday, March 06, 2006

9 1/2 Hours

When I got to work this morning, I only had 3 cigarettes left. I figured I would go get some at the corner gas station on my first break. But then Laura came in and out of the blue said "Well I quit smoking today." Laura's been saying for a couple weeks that she and her friend were gonna quit the first Monday morning in March. Well that did it. I've been wanting to quit, I've been smoking way too much lately - especially when I spend any time at the computer. I'm hackin' and gaggin'. I'm sick of it. The expense, the mess, the having your life revolving around making sure you've got enough when you get home to last til you go back out. If Laura can do it, I should be able to do it. Misery loves company, and we work basically the same hours, so we can give each other moral support, "Atta girl"s and pats on the back. It'll be hard to shake the habit, but I think I can do it with some friendly competition and encouragement. Just got to not have a beer or a glass of wine or anything like that these first couple weeks, 'cause then I may give in to the temptation of "just one". "Just one" will lead to "just one pack", to just one more week (till I quit), etc. I told Laura I will still have those three cigarettes left in the pack when I see her at work tomorrow morning. But if I don't get up and away from this computer desk RIGHT NOW I'm gonna blow it. Gotta go.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Sunday Night Catblogging

The 102nd Carnival Of The Cats is up and running at the website Catcall. All the usual suspects are there, plus a few new faces for your enjoyment. If you have a feline friend who would like to be part of next week's Carnival (to be hosted by Justin's Random Thoughts) you've got till next Sunday to make your submissions here. I hope to have a good video of the boys by then. I have a few clips, but want to get some footage of their daily hamstravaganza with good lighting and clear shots of their faces. And lots of meowing too as they sing for their supper (Sure, it is really just their 10am snack, but to a gang of 20 pound cats, anytime is suppertime). Meanwhile, here is a rare photo of the boys all lounging together.

David & Goliath

I thought this video was laugh out loud funny. The little guy sure has some cojones. And the big guy certainly puts up with his foolishness pretty well. Wish the quality was better. I have to recommend for anyone who would like to share their videos. The sign up is free, they don't require a bunch of personal info, it's very easy to use, and I really like how you can email a link to your friends or just embed the video on your website. Quite cool.

Pumpkin Tale

When you have a tail, you always have a game to play....