The good oil is to check twice and book once, based on the carpenter’s rule of thumb (if he hasn’t already lost both to overly eager sawing) to measure twice and cut once. In Princess Tiffany’s case, one suspects that the so-called ‘wrong’ escort team is actually the perfectly ‘right’ team, for her. Go, you good things.
I admit it, I have a long-standing, and sitting, and lying down and relaxing obsession with Edward Hopper’s magnificent painting Nighthawks. It is one of Mr Hopper’s most famous works, probably his very most famous, really and truly. There is something about the melancholic absence in that diner, despite its’ peopling, that reminds me of beautiful Mars and her silent, contemplative landscapes. So, I created Cafè Night Parrot as a homage to Nighthawks. Respect, Mr Hopper, respect. I dips me feline lid to you.
Here, we have a teaser for others to come, where Efraim, our marvellous barista and 24/7 counsellor of the lovelorn and lonely, meets some of his most ardent fans.
Yes, indeed, his name is Efraim. Mr Hopper may not have mentioned that.
Cyclists: they’re a hardy, though sometimes argumentative and clannish crowd. Nonetheless, we applaud their efforts to champion, and bring, carbohydrates into the healthy dietary choice fold. Or something like that. Or else, they simply want to go to a lovely cafe after their ride and pack on the kilojoules. If they play their carbs right, they can surely devise a route to take in all three destinations, n’est pas so?
How about those wolves, eh? Predatory, hungry, famished really, but, you know, prepared to wait for the Wolffee Treats to be distributed as an appetizer. And you wonder why we feline types tend to avoid most cross-species friendships (especially the canine), except for the human servant variety, as you yourselves encourage, dudes and friends on the third rock. And, see, technology – always a few bicycle rotations ahead of the homo sapiens brain matter. Never mind.
It is true that a dragon may not be the most practical of therapy pets, but they are extremely loyal, and in winter they can warm your cockles very quickly. Also, in summer, you won’t need a BBQ or grill to get those kebabs charcoaled. I’m a glass half-full cat, as you can obviously tell. Plus, yes, my therapy pet is a dragon called Cholmondeley, pronounced, as you well know, Chumlee, as in chum, as in friend, as in dear, sweet pet.
As my darling sister, Darling One, always says, ‘You could use a good stew, kiddo,’ to any passing thin person, animal, mammal, fish, or insect. I suspect Vanessa could have listened a little more attentively in her biology lecture on Serpentes. But hey, that’s her lookout – she has two legs, she can run, and Stan’s a tad weak after his big sleep.
Alas, here on Mars we, too, are afflicted by the Selfie Menace. There is nothing to be done about it other than to sweep, mop, and wipe up after their unfortunate incidents. Though I must warn any Selfie Tragics that if you come anywhere within cooee of me with one of your heinous Selfie Sticks, I shall be forced to sentence you to furball pate and social media limbo (ie, social media in outer space, which is, of course, as you well know, silent, and yes, non-existent – yay!), so think about it before you wave it about.
The thing about sculpture, as my dear mother always says, is that there is always a way to find a worthy scratching post within any work of art. You just have to start somewhere, as black cat Felix is doing, and dig in. Let this be a life lesson for all of us: Start where you are, Use what you have, and Do what you can (by way of appropriate claw-centred activity in the feline example). And thank you to Arthur Ashe and Teddy Roosevelt for that exhortation.