My Cell Phone’s Vacation – Day Two

For the first installment of my cell phone pictorial of my vacation go here.

I woke up quite groggy in a hotel room that I never remembered entering. Whatever that little white pill my doctor gave me to survive the flight knocked me on my butt. I missed out on entire conversations, I was found wandering parking lots and God knows what else I did. I woke up feeling like death.

08/02/09 10:28
(Twitter: Seattle beat me up. May be sick!)

The eyes tell the whole story. Black circles and blearied. I felt horrible as my body adjusted to life sans narcotics. I wanted to just stay in bed all day but I was on vacation in a foreign land (okay so maybe Washington State is not technically a foreign land) and I had to get ready to head to the School Girl’s brother’s church for a baby dedication. Ugh.

08/02/09 10:32
(Twitter: I feel violated. Think they touched undies.)

I started rifling through my luggage for my ‘churchy clothes’ to find the above card placed between my boxers (yes, ladies I am a boxer guy) and my tube socks. It feels creepy to know that a random stranger man-handled my clothing. I almost wanted to go wash it all.

08/02/09 11:20
(Twitter: Headed 2 church 4 niece’s dedication.)

I finally started to feel better after a shower. We decided to cheese for the camera as we felt good although a lack of breakfast soon grumped us up a bit and left me feeling sickly again.

08/02/09 11:46
(Twitter: BABY!)

Above is the picture of my sweet little niece at only 5 weeks old. She is so adorable. We were almost ready to head to the church.

08/02/09 14:02
(Twitter: A coffee bar at church?)

I started feeling like crap while at church so I headed outside for some air. The wife joined me and we decided to sit in the lobby and watch services on the television. We noticed that they had a coffee and pastry bar so we got a couple of lattes and some doughnuts. They really hit the spot.

We eventually made it out to the local IHOP for brunch and then all was right with the world.

08/02/09 16:03
(Twitter: It’s nap time.)

Eventually it was time for some of us to doze off. I think a movie was watched with Dean Martin. It was a pretty relaxing day.

My signature

My Cell Phone’s Vacation – Day One

The wife and I have recently returned from our trip to the great northwest (Washington, Oregon and northern California). For the most part I was without internet access but was able to use Twitpic from my phone which would update my Twitter page and then ultimately update my Facebook status. Phew, that is tiring. Anyway, for those of you that do not follow me on Twitter or are not my Facebook friend (why are you NOT?) here are the pics that I took while on vacation using my cell phone. Oh and for those of you who actually do follow me I have tossed in one or two that never made it to the web.

08/01/09 09:15
(Twitter: Headed 2 Seattle w/ my FRR shirt on.)

I was hoping to maybe add one of my favorite local bands to someone’s playlist in the northwest. Since my airplane relaxation medication made me high as a kite I was unable to do much of anything.

08/01/09 14:12
(Twitter: On the shuttle.)

This was probably the best part of the trip that day. Our shuttle driver at Nashville International helped carry our bags and was friendly and even made a Pac-Man Jones joke.

08/01/09 14:48
(Twitter: Mmmm airport food.)

This was to be my last meal. I fear flying so I just assumed bad would happen. It was a nice, hearty, rib-sticking meal that I assumed would stick with me the entire 5 hour flight.

08/01/09 15:28
(Twitter: Almost boarding time. Getting antsy.)

I think the anticipation of boarding and the almost 2 hour wait was worse than the actual flight. It was around this time that I popped my doctor prescribed medications that would buzz me up something awful!

08/01/09 16:29

I did not post this previous picture as we were just taking off over Nashville and my phone was in airplane mode. Seeing the engine outside of the window always makes me think of Bill Shatner and ‘The Twilight Zone’!

08/01/09 17:03

Here is another previously un-Twittered pic. Although I am deathly afraid of heights and flying I just kept looking out that window.

08/01/09 17:52

Apparently I took several more pics that never made it to the web than I thought. This was the first of about eight snacks (no joke) I ate on that trip to Seattle. My pill kicked in and, not unlike a weed fiend, got incredibly hungry!

08/01/09 17:57

I cannot believe that I didn’t post this one. Even in my mind-bent stupor I still have the brain of a 12 year old.

08/01/09 20:35
(Twitter: We’re in Seattle! I’m kissing the ground.)

This was easily five of the longest hours in my life. I vow never to take a long flight again. Ever.

08/01/09 21:50
(Twitter: Dollar Rental sux ballz!)

About an hour and a half AFTER we landed we were still trying to get the rental car stuff sorted out. The guy at the counter kept trying to up sell us! Apparently, I used a few choice words. I can’t remember much.

After eating a dinner that I also do not remember I crashed into the hotel room bed! It could only get better from here.

My signature

One After 994

I see that I have not posted in a bit. I have had some thoughts recently of temporarily abandoning this blog. I haven’t had the urge to post nearly as much as I previously had. It’s not that I have been suffering from writer’s block or anything this time but from a mad case of the lazies.

I have determined that this self-imposed break from blogging will begin after I post my 1000th. This current post is number 995 so I do not have long to go. Now, to be completely honest, at any given time I may release myself from this self-imposed sequestering and post randomly or go full blown. I bet that won’t happen for awhile. I have taken breaks in the past but mostly because I couldn’t think of anything to write about.

I will not, however, as some people have done in the past, completely delete this blog. It just doesn’t seem right as this is like a diary for me and that would be deleting my past (almost) three years.

So with all this being said, what could I possible post about today? Well, I’m glad you asked that question? I like to fancy myself an aficionado as it relates to music. In my opinion, the Golden Age of Classic Rock and Roll music was in its heyday during my infancy. Basically, what I am saying is that the music from the 60s and 70s kicks the crap out of any other generation. As I rolled down the interstate blasting out to Who’s Next from legendary British rockers The Who, I began to wonder where in the annals of rock history would this band be ranked.

So I decided to choose my all-time top 5 rock and roll bands. This is what I came up with:

1. The Beatles – Do I really need to explain myself? Just quickly: they were the ‘be all/end all’ of rock music. They took what was called rock and roll and perfected it. No one has come close since. Period.

2. The Who – They were kicking ass and taking names about five years prior to Led Zeppelin and their heavy brand of rock along with sweet ballads and catchy pop tunes are the epitome of what rock and roll truly should be. Their energy and unique use of albums to tell stories was surpassed by none.

3. Led Zeppelin – A band that kicked you in the chest musically. They incorporated other genres of music and made it sound brand new. They included a singer that would be emulated for years to come and possibly the greatest individual musicians the world has ever seen.

4. Pink Floyd – The first band into space, Pink Floyd took us on a trip throughout psychedelic, progressive rock like no one else could. The grand champions of the concept album incorporated unique sounds with amazing, descriptive lyrics that took the listener’s very soul to new, uncharted depths of reality.

5. Aerosmith – As I got to the number 5 position in my countdown I determined it would be important to include at least one American band in the list. After careful thought and considerations, taking into account longevity, hit records and record sales I could only think of one band from the US. Still going strong after almost 40 years no other American rock band could compare.

The Beatles

Okay, well that’s what I have. Yes, I consciously left out the Rolling Stones and no, they are not in my top 5. Yes, I considered Eric Clapton and his body of work. I also thought about Elton John and Rod Stewart. I considered the work of older artists like Elvis and Buddy Holly but ultimately they all failed to make the list. Here’s the thing about my list: it’s mine! Now this isn’t a list of my favorite bands just those I think are the best ever. If it were my favorites I would have added in The Faces, Queen and, a big surprise for some of you, Nashville’s own Will Hoge.

Please don’t comment on here about how I am all wrong. Your opinions are welcomed otherwise. Thanks for playing along.

My signature

Melancholy Monday: Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’

So to milk just one more post on the somber side of life I have decided to go back to what was a regular feature to start my work weeks. For the next three days our team at work will be short three pretty major cogs in the machine and it appears that the majority of that responsibility will fall heavily onto my shoulders. Blah!

So to bring the mood, I am sharing a song from my wife’s favorite 80s band, Journey, but from their 1970s discography. This song is wonderful in its sadness and includes some amazing slide guitar, albeit somewhat hidden underneath the ‘NA-NA-NAs’ at the end as performed by the extremely under recognized talent of one Mr. Neal Schon.

Wish me luck this week; I’ll need it. I hope everyone else has a superb week.

My signature

How I Will Remember Steve McNair

Seven days ago our fair city of Nashville, TN was hit with monstrous and sad news. The beloved former star quarterback of the Tennessee Titans was found murdered. Amongst all of the hullabaloo of the circumstances of his death were the different emotions and opinions about how to remember Steve McNair.

The many conversations that I have had with the wife, moms, Uncle Grizz, Nelson, G-Man and everyone else coupled with the hours upon hours of television coverage, not to mention the amazing radio coverage by local sports talk icon George Plaster and his crew, have led me to one conclusion. The following is a brief timeline of how I got to where I am in regards to Steve today.

Initially I was shocked when I first read the news via, of all places, Twitter. It was sad to think that a man as young as Steve, only one year my senior, could be taken from the world in such a violent manner. I am such a huge sports fan and football is generally my number one or two to follow. When the Titans, then the Oilers, came to Tennessee I was thrilled. The idea of having our very own top tier sports franchise was intoxicating. Although the Titans are not my first love as far as football goes, I learned to root and cheer for them and get emotionally attached anyway. Steve, along with Eddie George, Frank Wycheck, coach Jeff Fisher were the catalysts for not just a love affair with football for me but for the entire Nashville population. We lived and died with every game and Steve was the man who led us into those weekly battles. I still remember the emotions, anger, disgust, sadness, when ‘our team’ came up one yard short in the Super Bowl.

The news then came out that Steve was murdered by his girlfriend. The biggest issue with that was, of course, Steve was married. The major uproar was then turned into anger at his infidelity. Many people I know were sickened at how everyone spoke of his heroic nature and philanthropic tendencies. They questioned his abilities as a father and husband, myself included. The situation was exacerbated for some due to the overwhelming news coverage when other events (Iran, Afghanistan, Sarah Palin just to name a few) were virtually ignored, overlooked and pushed to the back burner.

Finally all of the details came out as to what the police believe were the circumstances surrounding his death. It was horrible for me. A man of his physical stature never having an opportunity to defend himself just seemed like a gutless act. Then the other day I watched Steve’s memorial service here in Nashville. I heard how his friends thought of him. I heard about specifics in regards to his community service and was impressed.

I had read online somewhere that some fanatical religious group had been picketing his memorial service. I saw a photo on the Nashville Is Talking website that disturbed me.

Westboro Baptist Church

I became angry. Now I am not a regular attendant at my church as I know that I should be but I have had many years of Bible study, I have learned many lessons from my family and I like to think that I have plenty of common sense but it just seems funny to me that these people and many others like them would spout of like this. The last I checked we were taught that we are not the judge, God is. To condemn a man to Hell for his acts of infidelity doesn’t really make us better than him, does it? This was done where not only Steve’s friends could see, but his wife and children. How would these people feel if they died and someone made up signs like these for their kids to see?

I had started judge Steve, I admit that. Then I thought to myself, “hey you have made some dumbass decisions in your life and so have some of your closest friends and family.” Should we not be forgiven for our missteps? If we are not forgiven by an all loving God, then why bother learning from mistakes at all?

Did Steve make an error in judgment? Sure he did. Should we think less of him for this? I would say to you that since he did nothing to me then the answer is an emphatic ‘no’. If his children and wife feel anger towards him, they have that right. For you and me, we do not. Remember “let he who is without sin, cast the first stone.” I expect that no one will be holding rocks.

This is how I will remember Steve McNair:

Steve McNair – football heroSteve McNair – community service hero

He should be remembered as the greatest sports hero in the history of Nashville as well as a humanitarian. If you think otherwise maybe you should look in the mirror and think long and hard about your imperfections. That’s my two cents anyway.

My signature

I Think Mr. Bean Lives Here

The School Girl came into the den while I was on the computer and said:

”Don’t freak out when you go into the dining room. One of the chairs stuck to the wall and some of the paint came off.”

chipped paint

Some of the paint? Holy crap! How much would a lot have been? For future reference, if the paint chips DON’T KEEP PICKING AT IT UNTIL IT’S THE SIZE OF A SMALL COUNTRY!

chipped paint 2

I guess it’s as good excuse as any to have G-Man, SueBoo and the family over to paint/drink. Sheesh!

My signature

Loss

It has been a little over a week since our loss. It seems odd that losing him, someone that had spent so little time as a part of our family, could be so distressing. Yes, he was truly a part of our family. He was sweet and loving and he accepted our love genuinely. A bond was formed that I never expected between him and us. You may find it a little strange, especially knowing the type of person that I am, to have felt so close to him. Generally, I tend to be devoid of emotions and sometimes, some would say, a little cold and a bit angry. It appears that he and his brothers, with a huge assist from my wonderful wife, have begun the long, arduous process of breaking down these walls. I think the hand written note we received from the doctor the other day brought to light that death, even in your pets, can be a heavy burden and a stress that can linger.

Letter from the vet

It has been eight days since I dug the hole in the backyard. It has been eight days since I wrapped up our little guy, who we watched suffer and die in my wife’s arms, and put him into the ground. It has been eight days since I wrote his name on a brick, to be used as a headstone, and laid a flower on his grave.

Anthony’s grave

As of this morning, looking back there in the yard still brings a hint of sadness which is atypical for me. I do think that the burial was cathartic and it does show, even in the smallest way, that I have grown emotionally. I know that there is nothing wrong with a grown man, a father and husband to cry, even if only for one small, helpless, lonely kitten because he was truly a member of our family.

Anthony Van Dyck

Rest in peace little Anthony Van Dyck. Your family misses you.

My signature

Stars Above**

Man, is it July 10th already? Okay, okay, for those of you who actually read my blog and have waited with baited breath upon the arrival of a new post, your dreams have come true. Yes, I know I have neglected this forum but sometimes life gets in the way; not to mention Facebook and Twitter. Get over it and follow me at the other places too.

Normally, once per month I single out a handful of my fellow bloggers and their work due to their amazing writing, their ability to make me think or cry or get pissed off. I think that works for me so I will stay with the norms. When I scanned my starred items from June in my feed reader I plucked out these gems:

Me + Booze x Internet Access = Not A Good SceneTheology & Geometry

30 Rock Is A Rip-Off Of The Muppet Show!Brian Lynch

RequiemNewscoma

How Do I Tell?Shipment Of Fail

An Appreciation, After The Cascade, Of Patty GriffinSalem’s Lots

Stars Above

Alrighty then. Go read these amazing bloggers and the others on my blogroll. You won’t be disappointed. As I always mention, be sure to comment as they (not unlike myself) adore knowing that their thoughts are being read.

** I really need a clever title for this regular feature. Anyone have any ideas? Please let me know. Also, a nice badge with said title could be fancy, too. I am willing to accept assistance with that as well.

My signature

Anthony Van Dyck (June 01, 2009 – July 02, 2009)

I think that I may have promised to no longer blog about kittens. Unfortunately, today I will break that promise.

As you may or may not know, our second batch of kittens consisted of three males that were abandoned by their mother, Piper. From day one my wonderful and amazing wife took it upon herself to become a surrogate mother to these babies. She bottle fed them every four hours (supplemented by the sister-in-law while we were at work), she bathed them, she medicated them, she played with them, she taught them how to use a litter box and she loved them. Not having any biological children of her own, she has taken to these baby kittens almost like they were her actual kids. This process has been ongoing since the first of June.

Fast forwarding to yesterday, my wife only had to work half of a day. It was her intentions to bring these kittens to the veterinarian in order to get them a check up and make sure that all was right with the world as far as being a kitty goes. After waiting an inordinate amount of time and spending $80.00, the kittens were pronounced healthy and sent home with a bottle of antibiotic. The vet said that there was a chance that they may have a slight bacterial infection and we should give them this medication as a precaution.

My initial plan for the evening last night was to mess on the internet for a few minutes then head off to bed quite early as I have been exceptionally tired for the last few weeks. Around 6 o’clock pm we gave the kittens their dosage of antibiotics. Shortly thereafter, they went to sleep, I began surfing the web and my wife was fiddling with her scrapbooking gear. The two black kittens had climbed up to the sofa to nap while the black/white mixed kitten, known as Anthony Van Dyck, crawled away to their make-shift bed inside of a clothes basket.

Around 7:45 pm, little Anthony woke with a start and began to cry lightly. I figured that he may just be prematurely hungry. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he had begun to walk drunkenly and stumbled across the floor. He stopped and began to hack and managed to vomit on the carpet. I lifted him slowly to the tiny baking tin that was being used as a temporary baby litter box in case he needed to continue vomiting. At this point I noticed that he was shaking a little bit. I placed him back safely on the floor and watched him for a minute as he kept walking then falling, walking then falling, all the while crying lightly. I called for my wife.

She immediately began to hold and stroke and love on poor little Anthony. As she spoke sweetly to this adorable mass of fur, she decided that maybe he was shaky due to dehydration so she attempted to feed him a bottle of water. He barely drank. He cried and shook. He did this for anywhere between 15 to 20 minutes. As his cries became more intense and his pupils became dilated we decided he must go to the emergency veterinary clinic. Unfortunately, this was approximately 40 miles away in Columbia.

We jumped in the car and sped towards Columbia at as accelerated a rate of speed as I could justify. After about 2 minutes into our car ride, little Anthony’s breathing became more and more shallow and overall he became less responsive. He was dying and fast. Five minutes later, an attempt at feline mouth-to-mouth was actually attempted. At this point the tears flowed. They welled up in my own eyes as well and my wife knew that it was over. His eyes were completely dilated, his nose and tongue were blue and there were no more breathing movements.

The ride home was brutally sad as we both cruised down the road rubbing this poor kitten. I hated to think how odd his short life was: abandoned by his mother, drinking from a bottle, the only mother he knew was human; he went from feeling great to deathly sick in the matter of hours only to die one short month later in a car in rural Tennessee. Hopefully, the little guy had some contentment in the fact, as I do, that the true mother who loved him held and petted him and emitted her love in his last moments in this cruel world.

Anthony Van Dyck, The Kitty

We were blessed to have had even a short time to share our home and lives with this little guy. Hopefully, all kitties go to heaven, too.

My signature

Introducing The Newest Member Of Our Family

The other day I became an uncle again to this beautiful baby girl.

Niece

I love getting to update the ol’ family tree. Congrats to the new parents. We are all so proud and cannot wait until our trip up to Washington to meet her for the first time.

My signature

Published in:  on June 26, 2009 at 10:15 pm Comments (5)
Tags: ,

Smooth Criminal

Michael Jackson died yesterday. He was 50 years old. I wondered how I would feel when this day came. I honestly didn’t think it would happen quite so soon. The relationship that I have had with Michael has been a very strange one indeed.

As a child of the 80s I was not familiar with his work as a part of the Jackson 5 until a little bit later in life. I was, however, privileged to be a spectator to the phenomenon that was Thriller. If my math is correct, I was 8 years old when that record hit the streets. As that young, impressionable boy I too fell in love with the music of Michael Jackson. I remember listening to my vinyl copy ad nauseum while flipping through one of several full color glossy picture books of the man. I couldn’t get enough. I thought him to be a musical genius.

As I neared and entered my teenage years I found that not only were my musical tastes growing but I also found his music to be less interesting and less interesting. Eventually I began to loathe his music. I would tolerate Thriller but I assumed that to be out of nostalgia. I am not so sure that is true now.

As I became an adult and a father and watched the deconstruction of what some people called a musical icon, I became more disgusted with him: the over doing of the plastic surgery; the amusement park in his back yard; the sissy way that he acted while portraying being a tough guy; the way that his music became less edgy & watered-down. These were all reasons to scoff and make jokes at his expense.

The final straw was the little boys. You can say the word “alleged”; you can say “acquitted”; I say “wake the hell up”. The man lay in bed with under-aged boys, he served them alcohol and (no I have no proof but I am not stupid) he molested them. People argue that he was a little off due to his childhood. I don’t care. As terrible as most of you will think this is to say: I am a little glad that he died. The world is a better place for it.

Michael Jackson

Further adding to my disgust were the discussions on the television about him. First, Al Sharpton referring to him as a hero and making comparisons to Muhammad Ali then mentioning that Jackson’s death was a tragedy. A tragedy? What the hell? The Washington, DC train derailment resulting in nine deaths is a tragedy; the state trooper that was senselessly shot in his cruiser during a routine traffic stop is a tragedy. All this was is a 50 year old pedophile that couldn’t outrun karma. How many 50-ish year old men died yesterday due to a heart attack? How many of them had to provide for their families but can no longer do so? Why aren’t we celebrating them?

What about the Larry King Show last night? King was prepared to dedicate his show to actress Farrah Fawcett who also past away yesterday. He announced that since Jackson died he was changing his show. I guess since King knew Jackson personally as a friend that takes precedence. How rude for the family and fans of Farrah Fawcett. That was a reprehensible, no class act. Period. All of this praise for a man who fondled little boys and was rich enough to get away with it.

Maybe my opinion is not a popular one but I can’t imagine that you would have allowed your small children to stay unsupervised with a man like him. I know I wouldn’t. The deification of this man yesterday, today and in the days to follow is putrescent and horrendous. I, for one, will not be a party to it.

** As an aside, maybe this is the opportunity for Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr and/or the relatives of the other Beatles to legally own the music that truly is great and rightfully theirs to own. **

My signature

Feel Good Friday?

Is it really a Feel Good Friday if I do not provide any musical stylings? Well, it will have to be as I am currently at my place of employment without access to YouTube. They are a bunch of fascists over here, I apologize.

Anyway, as I was perusing my feed reader working diligently, I was stopped dead in my tracks. I was visiting the blog of good buddy Chez Bez and saw the recent post of his photographs from the other day’s lightning storm. Go look here, I’ll wait.

Great, you’re back! Pretty amazing stuff right? Told you so. Well, I enjoyed it so much I decided to steal one of his pictures and use it as my background on my work computer:

My desk

Hey, Mike! Can I borrow one of your pics? I hope you don’t mind.

Only a few more hours left until I can scram from this place. Keep your fingers crossed that I don’t smash up the joint in the interim. Oh, and just in case I keep up with my writer’s block thing and do not post anything this weekend: I hope all of you fathers, grandfathers, uncles, step-fathers, and anyone that is fatherly or a mentor to someone younger, have a great Father’s Day!

My signature

Melancholy Monday: Childhood’s End

I haven’t done one of these Monday posts in a bit and felt the need to share a little song that has been stuck in my brain since I forced The School Girl to listen to it the other day. It is a track I absolutely adore from one of the greatest bands in rock history, Pink Floyd.

This pre-Dark Side of the Moon track shows some of the band’s best sound content coupled with intense and deep lyrics. David Gilmour’s guitar playing hints at the virtuosic talent that he would become.

Check out these lyrics:

You shout in your sleep
Perhaps the price was just too steep
Is your conscience at rest
If once put to the test
You awake with a start
To just the beating of your heart
Just one man beneath the sky
Just two ears just two eyes

You set sail across the sea
Of long past thoughts and memories
Childhood’s end your fantasies
Merge with harsh realities
And then as the sail is hoist
You find your eyes are growing moist
And all the fears never voiced
Say you have to make the final choice

Who are you and who am I
To say we know the reason why
Some are born some men die
Beneath one infinite sky
There’ll be war and there’ll be peace
But everything one day will cease
All the iron turned to rust
All the proud men turned to dust
So all things time will mend
So this song will end…

My signature

Wal-Mart Graffiti

While we tried to peddle our kitties yesterday at Wal-Mart, I noticed some markings on the ground. Someone had spray painted in the parking lot near our spot:

Fuck U

I don’t think it was very nice to be cursed at in that way but what can you do?

My signature

Lewisburg Pimp

I am considering renaming this blog Presto Chang-O! Version 2.0. Cats and kittens have pretty much taken over my life lately so I must share it all with you…again. To recap: one of our cats, Paige, got pregnant and had a litter of six kittens:

Paige’s babies
(l. to r. : Clint Eastwood, Teddy Roosevelt, Bagheera, Harry Potter, Paul Stanley & Dr. Evil)

A few weeks into her pregnancy our other cat, Piper, became pregnant as well. Oh boy, right? Well Paige had her six and everything seemed okay. She mothered them properly and they seemed to make progress. As Piper inched closer to dropping her litter she began to mother Paige’s kittens. We came home one day to find three newborns that had been left out in the middle of the dining room to die. Piper would have nothing to do with them.

Piper

Not wanting the new babies to die my wife ran out and bought kitten formula and began the ritual of bottle feeding, bathing and (worst of all) making them use the bathroom. With the help from Sister-in-Law, they have been taken care of just about religiously every four hours.

Throughout this whole kitten experience we have determined that due to his big personality we are considering keeping Harry Potter the kitty. He talks to us and likes to sit with us and is a pretty good cat.

Harry Potter

So yesterday we traveled across town to the local Wal-Mart to peddle our kittens. We just had too many cats in this house; eleven to be exact.

Lewisburg Wal-Mart

Free Kittens & The School Girl
(The School Girl looks thrilled to be sitting out in the parking lot.)

We caged up all of the original six kittens minus Harry Potter and hoped that people would come and take them.

Caged kittens

Within the first hour a nice family with like six kids (I was thinking one for each kid here) came back and took home Teddy Roosevelt and Dr. Evil. About 45 minutes later a guy came by and snatched Bagheera. We had a few more looky-loos but it appeared we would have to take Clint Eastwood and Paul Stanley back home with us.

Clint Eastwood & Paul Stanley

We did end up taking those two back home with us and now Harry Potter was happy that he no longer only had my slipper to play with.

Harry Potter and my slipper

I went through the process last night of setting up a Craigslist account to give away both of the remaining kittens and possibly Piper too. Apparently, however, they frown upon giving pets away for free on their site. It makes no sense to me and I am pretty sure that I have seen it in the past. So if anyone wants either Clint Eastwood:

Clint Eastwood with Teddy Roosevelt & Bagheera

or her sister Paul Stanley:

Paul Stanley

please let me know because they are cute and fun (as seen in this pic of Paul Stanley in a Tupperware bowl):

Paul Stanley & Tupperware

and could use a new home. Also, no need to worry about their brother Harry Potter as he has his favorite hobbies of reading and sleeping to keep him occupied!

Harry Potter sleeping with a book

I just don’t know how you can even resist these little cuties. By the way, I hope that this post will finally have exorcized the demon that is me blogging about cats.

My signature