The Story

"Be careful. Them're scared and not much friendly... been growlin and hissin at all day... everything..."

For some reason, in a room full of caged cats, these caught my eye. I gazed at the three white angels huddled together in the corner of the cage.
They had an aura about them. Something that I can't put my finger on, 'cept to say some kinda of 'it', and they had 'It'.

"They come in together, littermates. A girl and her mother couldn't keep 'em anymore. They were cryin and sobbing. So sad."
"That sucks."
"Two of 'em are deaf. See the blue eyes?" **

I was reading the info tags on the cage: Eight months old... kept indoors...good with other cats... box trained... uses scratching post, etc. All the positives I was looking for. And all toms that needed de-nutting. And in highlighted letters: DEAF.

But I was looking for one cat, not a whole family at this time.
I moved on.

Row upon row, but I ended up back in front of the three brothers. I clucked at them a few times, and the green-eyed looked up and tilted his head, then ears-pinned and straight at me... hisssss.

"I told ya."

Blowing into his face, I clucked again. Looking away, he stopped hissing, eyes down.
"He's fine. Just scared is all."
I walked away to browse some more, but like a boomerang I was soon back at the brothers again.
Turning to The Wife, "These boys are cool."

Another shelter gal walks in "They're deaf!"
"Yeah, I know..."
"They been hissin all day..."
"Open the cage."
"But they been hissi-"
"I got that. Please... open the cage."
"Did you fill out an application? You need to fill one before you can-"
Turning to a third gal, "Just open it."
Wife whispers to her "It's Ok, Honey. He knows ..."

Gal #3 unlocks the cage, I stick my hand slowly, palm up and low to the floor.
More hissing from the two blue-eyedes, but this time the green-eye just scrunches low in retreat.

Ha! not so tough now.

Softly rubbing the top of his head, and then behind his ears, working my way down the back of his neck. Gently but firmly, I grab his scruff and lift him out...

He's mine, and curls up into the crook of my arm for more rubbing and petting.
He's still not so sure about the situation, but I sense his muscles relaxing.
I flip him over, exposing his tummy with his shoulders and head supported in my hand. After a few, he turns to jelly as his head flops backward. He's purring.
I win.
Shelter Gal #1 is beaming.
"He likes you."
"Just gotta know how to deal with 'em is all."
Quickly, I conquer the two blue-eyedes' as well.

"Them're deaf!" announces a #4 gal, who just walked into the room. I think she was Supervisor Boss Bitch, or something like that. She had an attitude, and it made the kitty in my hand nervous.
"But I ain't. How many more times ya'll gonna tell me that."
"It's just that some people-"
"I'm not some people... A little understanding , they'll be fine."





**Deafness occurs in cats when the same genes that combine for white fur and blue eyes also equal deafness. (Cats with only one blue eye are deaf on just that side.) This is the case for about 90% born with this genetic combination. It's not a common phenomenon, but it happens often enough to make cat fetishists well aware of it.

Heartsick and angry right now.
Will fill you in when I'm able, which probably won't happen til after I stop crying and cursing peoples' mothers.

A Practical Application

I've griped at you previously about the horrendous conditions one must endure when flying commercially: bitchy flight staff, uppity counter help, intimate body searches, being squeezed into an aircraft like Jews headed to Auschwitz...
It's gone too far, or so I thought.

Now, some genius has come up with this nifty idea:

The new “saddle” seat, to be unveiled at a conference this
week, increases the number of seats an airline can have in its economy class.

The design, named the “SkyRider”, allows just 23 inches of legroom,
which is about seven inches less than the average seat's space of 30 inches.

Shaped similar to a horse saddle, passengers sit at an angle, with their
weight taken on by their legs. It allows seats to be overlapped.

It looks like this:

But don't let the picture fool you. Odds are you wont be saddled next to the nice smelling babe with the narrow hips and skinny thighs.


Nah!
You'll be strapped-in real tight next the 350lb sweaty dude whose deodorant failed sometime last week, because that's just how this shit works.

Well, dammit, clearly these fuckers have no limits, and with it being huntin' season , understandably my mind is obsessed with all that goes with, so I'm gonna go all crazy-like and propose and idea of my own...

Presently, I'm working on a new seating design that is sure to revolutionise air travel worldwide.



First, we take the concept of the standard deer cooler...






And then we blend it with The Hunter Safety System, as you may recall, that I had endorsed just two brief years ago.

And I know this vest thingy works, having allowed myself some time to hang from it (for a few minutes), and it wasn't any less comfortable than your typical butt sweat-soaked airline seat.

Add, a short bungee cord near the top to take some of the jolt out of air turbulence...

And then charge tickets by the pound: those who require more airspace would pay more, obviously.

This would also solve the 'Fat Sweaty Guy Shoe-Horned Next To You' problem. His excess will never again be oozing over into the space you paid for.
And you know what else? He just may decide that flying isn't economical for him anymore since he won't have the skinny guy next to him subsidising his fare...

Which would be increase your chances of hanging out with that sweet-smelling babe for a couple of hours without first having to pony up for drinks.

Win,Win?

Lifestyle Choices

I've been going through this process for a time, nearing on a couple of years already. I'm thinking that now is the moment for me to grow. To open my arms and expand the heart and the mind, to find the will to make it happen...

I know that I want to. I've wanted to for some time but have been hesitant.
Bringing someone new into my life doesn't have to be the diminishing of another's memory. That much is easy to grasp.
Instead, my thoughts rest more with the reality that the new family member won't be like the dearly departed, which is to be expected as individuals do behave individually, and if I can accept that reality in practice as well as in thought.

The Wife, in her goodness, has been supportive of my decision, whatever the decision will be.

I'm thinking that I've already made it, but I'll sit on this for a few more days, just to be sure, while my angel keeps whispering in my ear.

Let The Games Begin

Man, I've been waiting seven months for this.

Considering the Saints' D was all over Favre like stink on shit to end the Vikings' season last year, the big question might be the Vikings' ability to keep the old guy safe this time around.
Gotta hand it to the Geezer, though. I thought he was done after his last beating and certainly didn't expect him to return for another.

Will the Saints attempt to brutalize Favre as badly without having as much on the line this time?
Will the Vikings try to pay it back against Drew Brees?

We will soon find out.

I'm giving the edge to the Vikings. They got the most to prove while the Saints already have The Ring.

Running It Back?

By now we've all heard the saga of Reggie Bush and the 'improprieties' he was engaged in at USC.
Yeah, I know: The Rules Are The Rules.
Bush is accused of bringing shame to himself and his school, and the latest news is that the Heisman people are considering taking his trophy away from him.

This is where I draw the line.
Reggie Bush would have won that trophy regardless of what extra gravy he was able to bring to his family while playing as an 'amateur'.
And can you really blame a young man, not much more than a kid really, for taking advantage of a situation while the taking was good?

What needs to be dealt with is the mirage of young athletes being presented as amateurs while they receive hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth of compensation over their tenure in the form of a free education, food, lodging, publicity, chicks... They're getting paid, and paid plenty, at some of these elite schools, like USC.

The other end of the bargain is that the school gets to market them and make millions more.
So why is it OK for Pete Carroll to earn millions of dollars off of the likes of Reggie Bush, while denying Reggie's family a little benefit,too?
Where is the call for Pete Carroll to payback his earnings for that season?
Anyone? I'm sure he knew why he didn't know anything, if you get what I'm saying...

Reggie Bush just got a better contract, is all. He was able to avoid the maximum wage level set by the NCAA, and learned plenty about life at the next level. I'd say he got an education in sports marketing. It doesn't need to be a degree program to be education, if you ask me.

And now they want to take away his trophy. How about requiring Reggie to return to USC and run all those yards backwards,too.

Hot Sauce Correction Part Two

Tully here,

As the debate on hot sauce progresses, it becomes increasingly apparent to me that those who like tongue-burning habanero sauces are of a different breed than those of us who enjoy a hot sauce with flavor. The latter are sensible sensualists, the former sado-masochistic. It brings to mind, in fact, the perverse pleasure a Nazi would take in torturing a fellow human being--taking pleasure in those sharp pangs of pain. Let's just say it: Hitler was a habanero-eater. Just like Bike Bubba and all the rest of you sickos!