It is almost a certainty that former hired assassins have limited knowledge of appropriate titles. On the other hand, I, for one, am not going to tell Maxwell Magillicuddy that he should, indeed, second-guess ‘Kebab Your Lamb and Other Stabby Recipes’ now that he’s turned his attention to, let us say, other victims. If he could stomach a dose of vegetarianism, ‘Coleslaw Your Carrot and Other Grating Recipes’ sounds so much less threatening, don’t you agree (unless you’re a carrot, or the friend or relative of a carrot – apologies to all long, orange vegies)?
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.