“Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it.” Image Source
2010 was a weird year for me. I had just adopted a kitten and he looked a lot like a certain führer. I was warned over and over again by all my friends, but in a classic typical me move, my cartoonish pride made me deaf to all those fucking idiots, and I went ahead and named my cat Adolf Hitler, Hitler for short. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have.
It is time to acknowledge that Freddy Mercury’s voice transcends the fabric of time and space. If I had to pinpoint and define the importance of his role in music history, I would liken it to the best breakfast of my life. And that, my friend, is a novel currently in the works. Oh, by the way, Dire Straits ain’t that bad.
Hey, it’s another one of those mash ups.
“Appreciate me better.”
I cannot think of a better way to celebrate National Cat Appreciation Month than to share the reasons why my cat is better than the current president of the United States, Donald Trump.
Before I proceed, my cat’s name is Puppy. She is almost three years old. Like her name implies, she can sit on command, and she fetches and returns plastic rings from milk gallons. Beyond that she is useless.
The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
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