Happy almost-St.-Patrick’s-Day Caturday.
Last week when my roommate asked me what I was doing for this fine holiday I responded with, “When is it?” Adam had the exact same response on a separate occasion. We are old and lame. This time last year I was on the world’s biggest bar crawl riding a damn mechanical bull by like 2pm.
This year this time I’m, um, in bed with Weaz.
Cats. Always constant.
One of my cats (who shall remain nameless RALPHIE) threw up on the kitchen counter yesterday. And this, basically, is why I don’t have children. Basically.
I realize the cats shouldn’t be on the counter to begin with but have you ever tried to train a cat? Getting a cat off a counter is like getting me off the internet. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
Should I tell people on a food-heavy blog that my cat threw up on the counter? Probably not.
Here are some well-trained dogs instead.