I tried meowing back to the cat to show him I was making an effort, but he just switched to English.
Putting out my traditional Garbage Day decorations.
It’s been a couple of weeks, and the new neighbours have not yet mentioned the inflatable dinosaur in my window.
If you live a certain type of lifestyle, you can tell a colleague, “And then the mice sent an assassin who tried to kill me,” and there won’t even be any follow-up questions.
Just shattered the neighbour’s window trying to separate two frozen burger patties with a butter knife.
Not ALL my jumpsuits are for crime fighting. One is for leisure fighting.
My body might be failing, but at least my mind is still sharp as a sack.
I entered into a conversation so circular, my blood separated.
The greatest Valentines Day indignity is buying yourself a bottle of prosecco to drink with your cat, and discovering that neither of you can open it.
Please, you are bringing shame to your ancient weasel ancestors.
I just overheard some passing 8-year-old announce that after only two days of school he has already found a girlfriend, and now I have to unpack the fact that I don’t date at even a third-grade level.
Thanks, Word-Of-The-Day, I’m already familiar with “plateau.”
It’s funny how—especially in small towns—we think of lit porch lights as a symbol of welcoming. I leave mine on so the guy who paints himself purple won’t steal any more of my chairs.
It’s the cat’s birthday today, so we made sure to do some of his favourite things, like birdwatching, eating my houseplants, and shooting a few rounds of pool.
Hi, it’s me, your housebound friend. Since I have years of experience at this, and you lot seem to be out of ideas already, I will be providing you with daily suggestions of ways in which to entertain yourselves at home. Ready?
March 16th: Teach the cat a conjuring spell.