If I hear one more word about the wonderful marvelosity of coal-fired power stations, I’m firing the utterererer. “You’re fired,” I shall say, and I shall say it to him, no matter how lovely his head of melting orange tuna bake may be.
Did you know that pirates love cats? Yes, they do, in fact, to the tune of 99.9999% repeating and so on, and again, to be not quite precise but most certainly annoying.
The earliest known pirates were sailing and raiding quite some time ago, in the 14th century BC (not Before Cats, for those who may be curious). They were called the Sea Peoples, and their preference was for tuna bullion, tuna boullion, and tuna barnacle wedges (with sour light cream). Hence, their affinity, over time, with felis catuseseseses.
Yes, fellow Martians, felines and others, birthdays may be pagan in origin, or something – is there anything Professor Google doesn’t know? – but there’s cake, and your peeps, and even others, tend to be kinder on your ‘special’ day. Of course, they may not be kinder to you exactly, but there’s something in the air, don’t you agree, and it isn’t all pollen-based.
In any case, here is a special hello and happy day of days to our fellow Martian, Emma. May the wishing well of excellent occasions on which to eat cake, or cheesecake if you’re very lucky, bestow its every blessing upon you.
I harboured, briefly, ambitions to be a mime, a great mime, like Marcel Marceau, the original and most silent (and possibly, the palest). Alas, I realised that the incredible advantage I possessed in the form of my most expressive, and silent, tail, would render all competition redundant.
And mimes, as you well know, dear, silent readers, are extremely combative types. Nonetheless, in my own quiet way I have continued to practice, and I now dominate the world of meowmes, so the mimes don’t have to worry or even cry out aloud about their misfortune.
Meowmes rule, though, they do.