See item 3 for who's forgotten the moral of this story.I'm already planning for next week, so today's about offloading the collected flotsam.
1) I forgot to mention- since I'm awful at the celebrity-spotting much less groveling- but this Sopranos actor was on our flight back from Vegas. I learned, via his bio, that he was once entertainment director at the Riviera, so he must really know how to squeeze the premium juice out of a Vegas stay. It looked like he was with his wife and at least a couple of kids, and although I didn't approach, many others did, and he appeared pleasant and good-natured toward his fans and family, certainly a necessity in his previous job in hospitality. In these days of less than wholesome stories from that show's ensemble, I thought I'd let you know.
2) Will a housecat save your life, or simply chart the days until your downfall?
3) Urbanity's aflame with the rudeness and self-absorption of modern, affluent, cosmopolitan parents. Now, we want them to put a sock in the hyperbragging, too.
4) If you want to make things happen with a wave of your hand, forget Magic School, get a chip implant.
5) You can be scared to death. Cecil says. So Nyaa.
2 comments:
My housecats have saved my life many times..though more subtly than by pressing 911.
Since god didn't pass out lots of brain power to cats or dogs when he was passing out brains, and I know from experience that cats are trainable....I'll give Fluffy full credit for the save.
Cats have the equivalent intelligence of 18 month olds, and dogs, 2 year olds. Not much of a difference, IMO.
Reading the story, I couldn't come up with another explanation either, especially since the owner had been trying to train the kitty for exactly that. To me, it seems very catlike to act inattentive until the Friskies spigot looks like it's drying up- then, and only then, Fluffy executes with the precision of the Flying Wallendas.
But I thought the journal was funny.
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