Category Archives: Variety Show

Last Cat On Mars Presents: Origins OR Where for Glory’s Sake Did I Come From, Delightful Panna Cotta Papa and Mama and/or Ice-Creamy Custardy Carers – #3: What With All The Climate Change

While I’m the last to approve of babies in cold places without their soft little bunny rugs, it appears that some babies thrive in such environments, even when they are wearing stolen hats that are possibly a tad too large for them. Warm, though.

It may be the case that when I was but a teeny, tiny kitten, I thought the Abominable Snowman was actually the Abdominal Snowman – a common misinterpretation, and loss of a syllable, from what I’ve heard.

But, even so, and however, and yeti I say unto you, would it not be far more enjoyable to be discussing haute cuisine and cucina culture with an expert so expert she or he was named for it? In the early days, I called it the Abdominal Identity. As time went by, it morphed into The Abdominal Supremacy, then the  Abdominal Ultimatum (it was often given to hyperbolic tendencies), and finaly, naturally, the Abdominal Legacy.

I must say that’s an awful lot of abdominal tuna under the bridge, folks.

Abominable snowmen and babies growing in a freezer

Last Cat On Mars Presents: When Poles Collide Don’t Poke The Bear

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.

Polar bear, penguin, and camel at the North Pole together enjoying climate change

Last Cat On Mars Presents: Origins OR Where In Valhalla’s Name Did I Come From, Darling Parents and/or Gobstoppers – #2: Swablings Are Doing It For Themselves

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.

Divers discover baby pirates growing in the ocean depths

Last Cat On Mars Presents: Whatever You Say, Say Nothing

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.

Nervous mime performing in park for grandmother and child

Last Cat On Mars Presents: Origins OR Where In Heaven’s Name Did I Come From, Dear Parents and/or Guardians – #1: The Original Kitchen Sin – Sink.

Not my cup of tea, I must say, this souffle of clone-iness. But bits and pieces do add up, over time.

Did you know that felis catus domesticus is descended from the wild cats of the Fertile Crescent in the Middle East. Yes, some of us are Egyptian, Pharaonic even, and so were our Mummies.

Chef in kitchen creating new humans part by part

Last Cat On Mars Presents: Be Aflame, Be Very Aflame

Planet Earth. Poor planet Earth. She seems to be quite aflame with inflammatoriness lately. It’s not enough that the jet stream is checking itself into a permanent pattern of unlovely extremity, encouraging even more climactic climate change. No. Peeps like ignorant, silly Marmaduke have to put their egregious oars in the soup (the very hot soup) and stir vigorously.

Sigh. As my sainted mother, Mrs On Mars, was wont to say, It is what it is, my dear Last. And while this was usually about yet another plate of not my favourite tuna variety, I got the message pretty quickly. If it is what it is, then we must change its is-ness and practice loving kindness towards our lovely and beautiful Earthly realm. Otherwise, we’ll be in the other realm faster than you can explain why I had to eat all those tins of Acme Tasty (sure it was, eeuggh!) Tuna for Ticklish Tabbies. Hmmph. I’m not a Tabby, or, well, I prefer to think of myself as a universal representative of the meowing species, okay? Okay. Hmmph. Chill.

Man about to make inflammatory comments surrounded by fire brigade people

Last Cat On Mars Presents: An Overnight Shroom-alicious Sensation

Did you know that there are at least over 10,000 varieties of mushrooms, and probably even 10,000 more, even. They are everywhere, dear reader, and occasionally, in my tuna soup – ewww! Or yum, I’m not sure which at present. I will let you know when I decide.

Anyway, a lovely way to enjoy the little buttony ones, those that won’t give you the screaming heebie jeebies, is to fry them in a little garlic infused oil and add some roasted pine nuts, along with a handy handful of chopped spinach. Mix gently (people with opposable thumbs and forefingers) until the spinach has wilted and surrendered, and fling on top of a conveniently placed plate of fettucine. Add a garnish of roasted flaked almonds if you dare. Enjoy. You’re welcome.  You may add some sliced, sun-dried tomatoes, too, if you’re that way inclined.

Bicycles at a mushroom pop-up cafe discussing their riders hallucinogenic fates