Somebody Reads Me! Me!!!! For REAL

Once in awhile I get comments to my blog posts. *blush* Okay...maybe I am not blushing but a little...narcistic. A fan base...that are not relatives...or paid. Awesome!!! Perhaps I was too immature, my mini-happy dance scared my cat so completely he flew from the room like a winged banshee dragon. (Are there such things?). Which made me feel a tad bad until I realized he'd abandoned me to whatever scary thing he thought had entered the room. What? So much for loyalty from cans of expensive Friskies.

Oh...maybe this is where I should tell my cat story. I'll put it all in one looooong paragraph so if your not a cat person...skip this. I wasn't going to get a new cat. Honest. I have a mental cat that hides in my basement. She is sweet enough but literally never comes out of the basement and is weird. She was the hubby's pick when a kitten and we didn't know she'd get freaky and become a lower level hermit. At that time I also had a Manx cat (she has since passed away). She was grouchy. Not in a bad way, just had that grumpy look about her. She was true bob-tailed manx...not just a tail deprived/deformed kitty. In true Manx cat fashion she was very round but most of all her hips sat higher than her shoulders so she looked like a cat version of those 70s muscle cars that had the huge mag wheels on the rear. Just like this affected the dynamics of those cars, it also affects the dynamics of a Manx cat so she always seemed to be stomping around the house. You'd stomp too if you were four legged and your rump elevated over your head level. Which....made her look perpetually angry and grumpy even though she really was a loving cat. She had an amazing turn of speed for a beach ball on strange legs and could rattle the tea cups in my china cabinet at full gallop. Hubby brought her home too. Basement cat is Myah. Fat cat was Kestrel (she was mottled with some of the colours of the American Kestrel falcon and...it suited her). So, I didn't need a cat or a kitten or anything fuzzy, fluffy or mewy. I had been reading an odd series of books, nothing fabulous but my favourite character in it was called Asmodei, a kinda paranormal cheeky beefcake guy. So...imagine my surprise when one day I glance in a pet shop window and there is a chubby tabby kitten staring back and I decide, very out of character for me, that I am going to buy said kitten. And when the pet shop employee tells me he is the only male kitten among about 4 females it makes me just know for certain that I'm not going to call him Asmodei but Asmodeus...and I bring the puff ball home and he has ruled as the prince of hearts ever since. He is simply one of those personable, likeable cats no matter who you are. He goes camping with us. He goes a lot of places with us. He has been as far north as Thunder Bay and as far east as Newfoundland. He has strutted down to the shore of Lake Superior and dabbled his paws fearlessy into the waters of Lake Superior and stared in amazement at Niagara Falls. He likes to play in water like a shallow bathtub or more embarassingly...the toilet bowls. We have discovered the lid down and a tabby cat tail hanging out on more than one occasion. He also loves to play fetch with pompom balls which he will pack into the suitcase when we're getting ready to go camping all on his own. But...that isn't my cat story. I just wanted you to understand that he is an extraordinary cat. Now the cat story...after he has learned his name and loves it and its easy to see that it suited him I was curious one afternoon and wondered if it even meant anything so I googled it...such an innocent sounding thing to do - to "goooggle" it. Well, it returned that Asmodeus is the 13th demon of hell. Yep. I named my cute kitten after not just any demon, oh no...the 13th...and you just know with a number like that he has to be a real foul badass right? Yep. Real bad, big bad, badder than bad. Badder than Bruce Willis, badder than squinted Clint Eastwood. Nasty bad. Seems this particular demon had a very unhealthy obscession for Sarah to the point he killed every one of her husbands in his fits of jealousy. Meanwhile I was staring at a cutsie-wootsie fluffball with huge green eyes and a black fur M on his forehead that I just knew stood for Mummys-boy. What had I done? So, Asmodeus (the furball) and I came to an agreement. That poor demon Asmodeus was a demon and wouldn't be getting a break...and Asmodeus the furball could live a life loved and noble and would atone for that bad demon. Redemption. It comes in different forms and from the simplest of things. I don't know if a demon can appreciate redemption but I am thinking...he loved Sarah...he wanted her to love him....and this simple cat who bears his name and is now 4...is loved....and he plays in toilets and a demons gotta love that. That is my cat story.

I've decided to work on creating a 'title' for my blog. This blog.  Its time I got back to that fun grahic-artsy-fartsy stuff. I have no idea what is about to come out of me. I never do. There could be brain matter splatter after this creative endeavour....sweet!!! Stay tuned...

A friend asked if I was going to get back to doing my game review website.  Pffft. As if he EVER read it. Okay...I think he read my BioShock one but that was ONLY because I sent it to him. Holy-moly the few reviews I did do will be awfully old on it now. I guess I should think about it though. It was never something I meant to be serious about but it kept me outta trouble and was kinda fun. Oldest game reviewer ever?  And a chick!?! For real, homies! I have had a lot of fun creating websites...and my own needs it desperately....what do they say about the mechanic and his own car? So I think its on my "For Petes' Sake Get On With It, Girl!" list. That and my writing and painting I guess. Meh. We'll see.

I will never master PHP. *sigh* So...to fulfill my inner geeky-whatever-the-hell-it-is - should I try playing/learning something about Linux just because the penguin is cute and its something new and it would be going boldly where I shouldn't?

I haven't sent my overseas friend his Easter bunny....I am thinking at this late a stage in the game....and because it looks so tasty....I should just eat it and save the postage? The chocolate bunny looks a little nervous. To die in Canada or the Netherlands? Its not like he'd enjoy the trip over....ate is ate? No? But I thought if my friend knew I'd bought him a chocolate bunny and I didn't send it...he'd be a bit disappointed he didn't get to receive a package from Canada with a delicious chocolate rabbit inside and eat it. So...I am thinking that perhaps....later is better than never....when it comes to eating ears off hollow chocolate bunnies. Would I be riddled with guilt if I ate it? Would I be standing at the pearly gates only to have Peter stop me, wag his finger and chastise me for it while others in line whispered behind my back how horrible I was to deprive a friend of chocolate simply because Easter had passed. Decisions, decisions. The rabbit is staring at me. Does he know I am contemplating his inevitable demise?

I got my income tax cheque today and the first thing I thought of was Red Dead Redemption because I am a pathetic gamer girl whore. But with hubby not working...I should put the money in the bank right? Right. Buttttt...shouldn't I be allowed to enjoy a little of it, just say enough? Dang!!! I'll let you know if the slut wins. Well...actually if I disappear...its likely because she did and I'm busy on the 360.

The Avon lady came into work today and dropped that latest catalogue. Foot Works has Moisturizing Lotion and Cooling Foot Sprays on sale. Sounds like a nice item to toss in the Troop donations box...Cherry Ice, hmmm....would fellow soldiers give a comrade a hard time because his feet had a wussie sweet fruity essence...or...would they be grateful? Dun dun dunnnnnn.

Another Cdn. soldier died. I wish we could bring them all home. I won't take anything away from them by saying they shouldn't be there. They stepped up to the call, do what they've trained to do and work hard to try to make this world a better one. What I wish is that they didn't have to be there at all. That somehow the world would get it and another soldier would never have to leave home, family, country. That is naive but I am not ashamed of the spirit of it. Admiration does not say it by half.

My smiley moment for today....I asked our Public Librarian if she accepted book donations (I am getting swamped and some of my books I'd rather share than sell) and she said "Of course!" I told her I was reading a murder mystery that I would likely donate when I finished it and she said murder mysteries were very popular so I held up the book to demonstrate "I'm not too far yet, but when I'm done I'll have it and few others...." when she butts in with "Oh Bangkok Haunts!" and I thought, briefly, great she's heard of it, when she adds "Yes, we had a lady just recently returned from Bangkok and I am sure she would like to read such a tourist book"......whaaa?.....yeah....it took me a moment too....she thought "haunts" as in the "to go to places" only thats not it...its "haunts" as in ghosts, imagined or real that haunt a cop in Bangkok investigating the porn snuff of a stripper who used to work his Mom's club and he once loved and adored.