Ooohh What Pwetty Tools Blogger Has

Wow, now I have a button on my browser's link bar that pops up an edit window to add a post. (I use Firefox. Don't use IE, it's bad for you.)

Now I can post useless nonsense after no more than a moment's thought! Yay! And don't think I won't! Yay! Or boo! As you prefer! Yay!

Changing the Kitty Litter

Nobody likes changing the kitty litter.

That is, right-thinking Americans don't generally enjoy this task. It's not really a hard job, of course. It just involves a quick dumping of the old, wiping of the box, and a quick refill with new. But there is an unpleasant proximity-to-nasty involved, and nobody, no matter how often they clean their house or kitty facility, has a completely stinky-free cat box. After all, it's used for pooping. How can something used for pooping stay pristine?

But I don't have to change my kitty box anymore... And the reason might be a bit surprising. You see, my cat has taken over the job.

Uh, I don't let it go that long or anything... (No, seriously!) But you know cats. They have sensitive noses, and they really are very close to the floor, so. Perhaps it's much more urgent in their minds to have a fresh box.

On the other hand, maybe he's just special. I hear him clawing and clawing away at something in the other room, where his box is kept. I've been mostly ignoring him... but it was kitty box time, and so I wandered in. And what do I see? The box has somehow been knocked over at some point (though now I see it has been returned to its normal upright state). I know this because there is a huge pile of dirty litter on the floor. (Also, he's been practicing upending things using his food bowl.) It's not just some of the litter, either, it's ALL the old litter, including the little bit of damp that settles to the bottom of the... okay, too much information, I understand.

But there is clean litter in the box... how can this be? The answer lies in the empty cat litter bag next to the box. The big bag with the giant hole clawed in the bottom. The bag used to sit, upright, next to the kitty box... I guess it wouldn't be too hard for an enterprising young cat to, say, knock it over. And once you've done that, well, all you have to do is just claw all the litter out until the bag is empty, and then knock it away. And, indeed, there are eighty-five thousand little bits of kitty-litter-bag paper scattered in the box along with the litter, as one might expect if someone has clawed all of the litter out of the bag.

So... okay! I'm all set. The CAT is going to do it for me from now on. All I have to do is leave a full bag of litter there and sweep away the old litter and mop the floor and, well, yeah, not so much. It's kind of easier to just empty the box like a normal person. But if he's this determined to have a clean place to do his business, I have to wonder: why didn't he ever just teach himself to use the toilet?

All Right, Now I Suck Too

Okay...

I'm actually finally joining the bloggers in their self-gratifying talk-to-ourselves little thing. I've been using the Internet since way before most people in this country ever heard of it, since like 1992. I remember when Usenet was new, and there was no World Wide Web. (You whippersnappers, we had to walk six miles in the snow, uphill both ways, to log in to the Internet in the old days *cough* *cough*)

I used to have a website, quite a long time ago, with interesting things on it, which maybe I'll mention sometime but probably not. I've never had a blog before, though, even though it seems like it would be a perfect outlet for me: I like to write, I have opinions about everything, and I'm mouthy. Well, these three things are actually just two things. Or one thing. But you know what I mean.

Also, I need an outlet. Back in the old days, I needed an outlet so much that I did Bad Things. Not actually BAD... Just not really good. Amusing? Yes. Team-playerish? Uh, no. I did a few, um, newsletters for work. Good, funny newsletters, in my opinion... But sadly, they were not exactly officially sanctioned. I could have done an actual official one, but that would have to contain boring junk like birthdays and official news, and really, if you can't make fun of the company at least, what's the point? But I kinda tore it loose in these newsletters... I'm ashamed to say that in one of them I very humorously compared the head salesperson to a blowfish. No, wait. I compared ALL of the salespeople to blowfish. The head salesperson I called the QUEEN of the blowfish. Oh, yeah, that's right... Gee, why was it that she didn't find the humor in it? Huh.

Well, I was young then. Ill-advised. Ill-advised by the voices in my own head, sure, but ill-advised nevertheless. I just couldn't keep my snark reined in. Much later, I did another newsletter at a different job, which many of my coworkers found extremely entertaining, and I did finally learn to be nice. Well, I mean, most of the humor of it was about the Human Condition. Like how, in a business environment, people use a lot of cliches. So, for example, the back of one newsletter had a game board for Buzzword Bingo. This was back before THAT became cliche itself, so it was still funny then!

Well, as funny as it was, and as many people enjoyed the little joke, still, you just can't be doing that. So, now that I'm a "grownup," I don't do it anymore. But healthy brains sometimes simmer, and sometimes my brain is healthy enough, since it doesn't eat chocolate like the rest of my body does. So I've come here. I'm hoping that I can use this place as a Pensieve, and blorf out some of the sparky, foamy, shmutzy stuff that floats around in there, if you'll pardon the almost incoherent nature of that statement. Some people might even end up reading this blog. You fools! Don't you have Better Things To Do With Your Time? There's Solitaire, after all, right there on the Games menu!

We all have Better Things To Do With Our Time. It's a damn shame.

Three Reasons This Picture Sucks.

Okay. Three reasons this picture sucks. It's good, In a WAY, because the eyes are, well, pretty. But.

1. No cat in his right mind, big or small, would rest in this position. It's gotta put way too much weight on your crotchal area. One leg, at least, would be on the branch. I think the ARTIST just doesn't have enough confidence in feline balance. What if this big cat were sleeping, and a baby leopard (um... is it a leopard?) climbed the tree and jumped on its butt? Which happens ALL THE TIME. Clearly, there would be no new babies from this guy.
2. The name. "A Golden Resting Place." This name is so self-important and pretentious that I can't even. Don't get me started. Please. Come on. Who the... I mean, really.
3. The price... is $24,000. Gold leafed... What? Why would... Christ! Gold leaf. Your crappy art isn't overblown enough, you have to do it in gold leaf. Spare me. That's $24,000 worth of gold that could have been used for semiconductors. Semiconductors!
   

So. My rant's done. Bad! Bad bad bad, me hates.


See this lovely terrible painting.