Faith Can Move Mountains... But Dynamite Works Better

Saturday, February 28, 2015

The Final Frontier: Farewell To A Legend

Some links before getting underway today. Norma wrote about her mind wandering. Yesterday having had been a Friday, Parsnip had a Square Dog Friday. Cheryl had a look at winter in her area. Lynn had snow birds. Mark paid tribute to the subject of today's blog. And the Whisk had a Friday Question.

“My parents came to the US as immigrants, aliens, and became citizens. I was born in Boston, a citizen, went to Los Angeles, and became an alien.”  ~ Leonard Nimoy

“Spock, do you want to know something? Everybody’s human.” ~ James Kirk 
“I find that remark… insulting.” ~ Spock

“If I were human, I believe my response would be ‘go to hell.’ If I were human.” ~ Spock

“I think it’s my adventure, my trip, my journey, and I guess my attitude is, let the chips fall where they may.”  ~ Leonard Nimoy

The world seems a bit less bright today. The passing of a sci-fi legend has that effect. Leonard Nimoy has passed away at home after dealing with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. He was eighty three, a good age and a mark of a life well lived. An actor and a director, he will be forever linked to a single character and a franchise: Mr. Spock, and Star Trek.

Nimoy came from outsider roots, born in Boston, the son of Russian Orthodox Jewish immigrants. Perhaps that was fitting for the eventual role. He was an actor getting steady parts in a variety of roles when Gene Roddenberry came calling for his series, essentially a pioneer tale set among the stars. Playing the alien was something he wasn’t quite certain of, and in fact he would spend a good deal of his career trying to come to terms with the fame that Spock gave him, and how closely tied it was to his life. The character, a human-Vulcan hybrid, was an outsider, the lone Vulcan in a crew consisting mostly of humans. Spock’s unlikely friendship with Captain Kirk, played by William Shatner, was the bedrock of the series, the two characters vastly different and yet completely in sync with each other (Spock’s regular tendency to annoy Doctor McCoy was another factor in that). He was a contrast to his castmates, his character being a logical figure with a detached, rational world view. And not much of a sense of humour.

The original series ran for three seasons, but found fresh life in syndication, giving the cast an enduring legacy. It would spawn movies, more television series, and a wealth of books and other media. Nimoy would return as Spock eight times in various films, directing the films twice, in the case of Star Trek III: The Search For Spock and Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. Among his other work, Nimoy would also direct Three Men And A Baby, the comedy about three bachelors suddenly caught up with a baby in their midst, a film that would be hugely successful at the box office and a favourite ever since. In the director's chair, he had a way of bringing out the humanity in the story. That certainly seems to fit with the man himself, who came across as someone of warmth, humour, and empathy.

It was Spock, though, that stuck with him. That sage of a character, the quintessential outsider, seemed to strike a chord with many people, even if they weren’t rabid Star Trek fans. It got to him for a time- he wrote an autobiography in the mid Seventies titled I Am Not Spock, but in time that world view changed, and he seemed to have accepted the fame that came with the character. He would say years later, “I admire him, I like him, and I respect him. I would rather be identified with Spock than any other character on television.” As time moved on, perhaps, it had become more obvious that Star Trek in general and Spock in particular had transcended popular culture and became a classic. To be remembered for such a role and such a character is, after all, a good thing.

I am struck by some of the reactions that I’ve seen on social media. Astronaut Chris Hadfield tweeted yesterday “Leonard, you lived long and prospered, and were an inspiration to me and to millions.” Jonathan Frakes, another Star Trek alumni who featured in The Next Generation as Commander Riker, and directed films in the franchise as well, tweeted: “RIP to the best First Officer.” George Takei noted, “Today the world lost a great man and I lost a great friend. We return you now to the stars, Leonard. You taught us to live long and prosper.” William Shatner had this to say: “I loved him like a brother. We will all miss his humor, his talent, and his capacity to love.”

It’s perhaps fitting to leave off with Leonard’s final tweet, dated some days ago. He would have known time was short, and the words strike me as someone who was at peace with that. They’re very wise. “A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory.”

Rest in peace, Leonard. Thank you. You’ve touched more lives than you know. 

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

So You Really Want To Ruin A Wedding

Some links before we get ourselves started today. Norma was catching up. Parsnip had an update. Eve had some haiku.Krisztina wrote about motherhood. Maria wrote about poetry. And Mark is taking part in an anthology.

Now then, today I'm up to no good. As usual. This is one of those did I actually write that bits. I have an occasional series featuring the wrong sort of people to give a eulogy at funerals, I've gone in the other direction with this, namely the wrong minister to handle a wedding. Enjoy!

"We now come to the stage of the service in which the minister gets to deliver some thoughts and meditations on weddings and on marriage. You know, quite often it is customary for a minister to speak at length about First Corinthians 13, with its emphasis on love. It is, after all, a popular passage of Scripture, quite meaningful for the occasion, and, well, I've made use of it in the past. 

To be honest, it's probably been used in one way or another for millions of times in millions of services by now, so really, how much more can one person say about that particular passage of Scripture? Well, so why not take things in something of a different direction? I thought instead of concentrating on Scripture, I might instead share some stories of weddings gone horribly wrong.

You know, I am reminded of a story from seminary about the old school preacher who decided that for his message during one wedding, he would go for the more unorthodox theme of the day. Yes, he chose to talk about prostitution. Call them what you will. Hookers. Tricks. Whores. Ladies of the night. Harlots. He used pretty much every word you could think of and went on and on about prostitutes. All while smiling benignly at the bride. How that man managed to make it through the wedding without someone coming up from the congregation and killing him is something of a marvel.

How he got out of town is another story, but, well, one drives really fast when people are coming after you with torches and pitchforks.*

As ministers, we all have those kind of stories. My good friend Reverend Steinwick tells a story that's quite a tale to be told. If you heard it from anyone but a minister, you'd think it was a soap opera. It seems he was marrying a couple who had been together for some years. They had gone through a great deal of trials and tribulations, and there they were, on the happiest day of their lives, when all of a sudden the doors opened. Everyone gasped. It was the groom's first wife- the same wife who had been lost at sea five years earlier and never found. The same woman who had once been involved with his brother for years on end as she waffled back and forth between the two of them. And she was alive and well, shocking everyone with her oh so convenient timing, her story of amnesia that seemed to go on forever, and the mysterious prince who turned out to be not such a nice guy after all, what with his schemes for world domination and a weather device in his castle's moat.

It's been three years now, and Stone, Calliope, and Andromeda still can't figure out who's supposed to be married to who. All while Stone's little brother Mason keeps trying to get Calliope to notice him again.

I'm reminded of a story Father Callaghan told me last year. He was officiating over a wedding at St. Peter's in the spring. Lovely occasion, amiable couple. All's going perfectly well, they're doing their vows, and it was just then that the doors to the sanctuary open, and in come five Mounties. One of them looked particularly cranky. The good Father wasn't quite sure why he was so cranky, mind you. Anyway, this particular Mountie said the groom was under arrest for extortion and fraud, something about bribing public officials, grand theft, and serial jaywalking. Father Callaghan admitted that he was shocked- totally shocked. Not quite so much as the bride, who looked horrified and humiliated. And even more so, the mother of the bride. As Father Callaghan put it, it seemed like she was going to blow a gasket.

Anyway, the groom's asking if they can do this later, the bride's asking for an explanation, the bride's mother is calling the caterer to tell them not to open the champagne, and the Mountie finally identifies himself as an Inspector by the name of Lars Ulrich. Father Callaghan told me the groom blurted out, and I quote, when did the drummer from Metallica join the Mounties?

It seems this Mountie didn't like that, and knocked the groom out. Weddings that end with the Mounties hauling the groom out to face felony charges... well, at least no one will ever forget that one, right?

Not all wedding disasters have bad endings, mind you. Reverend Atchison told me she helmed a wedding last summer that was quite memorable. A young couple, Alicia and Andrew, were getting married, but she could tell something was wrong. Maybe it was the groom being something of a self absorbed prat, as Helen put it. Maybe it was the bride's mother Ursula being an overbearing monster. At any rate, Helen came up to the point in the service when she asks the bride and groom if they take each other to be married. Andrew did the whole thing effortlessly.

Alicia, on the other hand, wouldn't answer. Helen asked the question again: do you take this man to be your husband? It's a fairly easy question. Unless, of course, you don't love the guy you're marrying. Alicia's mother was fuming at this point. After all, there's her daughter just saying nothing, staring off at no one in particular, not meeting anyone's eyes, and making Ursula look bad by seeming indecisive. Did I mention Helen thinks that Ursula's an overbearing monster?

Finally Alicia just blurted it out. She couldn't marry Andrew, because she was in love with her maid of honour.

 Ursula blew her stack over what she saw as a public humiliation and swore to never forgive her daughter for making her look bad. Andrew walked right out of the church and ended up marrying a Vegas showgirl three weeks ago. And Alicia? She and Caroline are getting married in December, so hey, that's a happy ending, right?

I would like to close with an experience I've had in this sort of thing, from the church I last served at. It was just supposed to be another wedding. Michael and Julia seemed so happy together, so in love. The wedding was just perfect. Flowers in the church, violinists playing, glorious sunlight illuminating the stained glass windows in just the right way. There we were, before the assembled guests, and I came up to that point in the service when I ask that question: does anyone have any cause why these two should not be married. You know, it's supposed to be a hypothetical question. No one actually expects an answer.

All of a sudden, a hand went up. Becky Gutherie. She stood up, and said Michael couldn't marry Julia when he should be with her. After all, as she put it, was she not going to have their baby? You can imagine the gasps in the congregation, and well, Becky was visibly along at this point. 

So there's Julia, asking Michael if any of this is true. And there's Michael, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. And then there's Rachel Carruthers, standing up and claiming Michael was the father of her three year old daughter Michaela, and that he belonged with her. And if this wasn't bad enough, Julia's sister Adrianna gets up at this point and says she's in love with Michael, and insists if he marries Julia he'll always regret knowing she's the one who got away.

Long story short, the bride broke the groom's nose. After seven other women all rose up to lay claim to him or demand child support payments. The last I heard Michael's caught up in endless court hearings, while Julia got her own revenge by writing a best seller: How To Make Your Cheating No Good Ex Rue The Day He Cheated On You. 

Apparently Natalie Portman is playing Julia in the movie adaptation."

*By the way.... the story about a minister preaching about prostitution? Totally true. My parents had friends. In their case, the groom's brother-in-law officiated at their wedding. He was a minister, and a male chauvinist pig. He preached about prostitution at that wedding. That speaks volumes about what he thought about the happy couple, doesn't it?

I've always thought the best man should have taken that minister out back during the reception and beat the living daylights out of him. Hey, the Big Guy would have said the Not So Good Reverend had it coming.

Monday, February 23, 2015

Spammers And Scammers Everywhere!

They never take a hint, do they?

You can post something with this very title, and sure enough, it will attract the sort of spam crap that you'd like to never see again. The spam about medical insurance, travel to Djibouti, carpets, running shoes, or where to bury yourself if you die far from home. Nonsensical sentences with the inevitable links turn up. And yet the blog filters send them off to the purgatory of the spam folders nearly every time, where they will languish forever after, never to be published, and rightfully so.

And then there are the endless variations on the Nigerian Scammer. Such as this one that turned up in my email junk folder a couple of weeks back.

Our Ref: WB/NF/JPP/UN/XX-321/02015.
Attention : Sir/Madam .
I would like to let it be known that in a meeting held by the United Nations in Affiliation with the World Bank Organization and the U.S States Government, it has been agreed that a compensation of USD$6.5 Million has been approved in your name. This Compensation program was organized to compensate all the people who have in time past had unfinished transaction and those that has been scammed in any part of the world. This compensation scheme was set up under the United Nations Project for unsettled debts and scam victims rehabilitation scheme.
Your E-mail Address was drawn automatically web directory through an E-mail ballot machine, that is why this mail was sent to you and you are qualified to receive the above mentioned compensation payment.
A Bank Draft RefNo: 972 7742 431 002626 has been allocated to you which will be credited with your payment of US$6.5 Million Dollars which will be delivered to you in person at your place of residence.
You are hereby advised to contact Bank Manager of Zenith Bank Plc in the name of Dr.Jim Ovia at the address below for your payment :
Contact Person : Dr.Jim Ovia.
Bank Name : Zenith Bank Plc
Personal Phone: +234-814-820-2663
You are also instructed to forward the following information below to the above Bank for complete processing and delivery of your Bank Draft to you.
1. Your Full Name :
2. Your Home/Mobile Telephone No:
3. Your Home or Office Address :
4. Age/Occupation/Marital Status:
5. Country OF ORIGIN:
You are advised to contact the Zenith at the address above, and have your information listed above forwarded to them with 72 hrs you receive this message to avoid cancelation of your payment.
Thanks for your patience, and do contact us in the near future when you have successfully received your payment.
Best Regard,
Ms. Valerie Amos.

And I'm back again after that rambling scam by Ms. Valerie Amos, or whoever the hell is really behind that nonsense. Did you know that if you google the UN Directorate of International Payments and Transfers, what you get is pages of scam alert bulletins. Not that it's a surprise, given that this bears the usual hallmarks of the Nigerian Scammer. Capitalization in the wrong places. Incorrect grammar. I mean, seriously, the U.S. States Government? You do realize, Scamming Scammer, that the S means States, right? Or are you even stupider than I already think you are? And it's unfinished transactions, not unfinished transaction.

Apparently Ms. Amos thinks I'm qualified to have 6.5 million dollars because I've been scammed elsewhere in the world. I've got news for you: I've never been scammed. Unlike the knuckledragging buffoons who are dumb enough to believe any of this. 

Dear scammers and spammers, from the bottom of my heart, I can only say this: 

Find a bridge. Jump off it. You'll be dead and we'll be rid of you. It's a win-win both ways. Well, not so much for you, but for the rest of humanity that find you tedious, obnoxious, and a pain in the butt, it's a big win!

Saturday, February 21, 2015

This Year No One Wins The Oscar

Some links before getting started today. Yesterday having had been a Friday, Parsnip had a Square Dog Friday post. The other day, Eve posted remarks she made at a presentation and book signing. Krisztina had a cake recipe. And Mark wrote about winter.

Now then, tomorrow happens to be the Oscars. I won't be watching them, but I've messed around with the concept annually, including last year's predictions. This year I thought I would do the same, with some off the wall predictions of how the night will go...

The ceremony, scheduled to start at 8:30 PM Eastern, is preceded by forty three hours of pre-coverage on various entertainment channels, with vacant looking entertainment reporters gazing at the cameras in their usual vacant way, blathering on and on about who's nominated, who's likely to throw a tantrum, and most important of all, who's wearing who.

Across the world, people actually tuning in early will ask themselves, "what does that mean, who's wearing who?"

Pat Robertson will issue an angry statement on The 700 Club, from his home in the heart of Mount Doom, blasting Hollywood for its liberal world view, ranting and roaring about having a lesbian host the ceremony last year and a gay man this year. "Friends," he'll say in that smarmy creepy old man way of his. "The only way we can stop them is if you mortgage your home and send the money to me so I can do the good work of filling my bank account. Wait, did I say that last part out loud?"

Melissa Rivers, taking up the slack what with her mother being dead, will be camped out in a deli five miles from the ceremony filing reports for a podcast. She'll be passive aggressively remarking on how if the Oscar committee had any respect for her mother, they would have named her as the host this year in her mother's stead. The cameraman will try to stifle the instinct to tell Melissa that Joan burned every bridge she ever had in Hollywood.

Leonardo DiCaprio will be stopped on the red carpet, and asked by a vacant looking entertainment reporter about this week's model on his arm and how he feels about never winning an Oscar. Leo will stifle his need to break down into tears.

The ceremony will get underway merely thirty seven minutes late this time. 

Neil Patrick Harris will come out on stage to open the show in a grand, festive showstopping musical number that will garner half raves and half Billy Crystal would have done better reactions on Twitter within seconds.

Jack Nicholson's corpse will be propped up in the front row, tuxedo on and sunglasses in place. After last year's events in which Jack died during the ceremony, it has been revealed that Jack was embalmed, with his final will and testament insisting that he be in attendance each year at the Oscars.

No one will be sitting anywhere near the corpse of Jack Nicholson.

At a hospital in South Dakota, a patient who's been in a coma since 1992 will wake up suddenly, and ask the nurses why Doogie Howser is hosting the Oscars.

Harris will remark in a cheerful way on the oddity of how so many straight women he meets, knowing he's gay, still say they'd love to have sex with him.

Hearing that remark while watching the Oscars at home, Rush Limbaugh will suffer a bad end when his head explodes.

John Travolta will show up on stage to list off some nominees, but not before apologizing once again for flubbing the name of "um... I can't remember her name now. Was it Adele Dazeem?"

Idina Menzel will unleash her minions of Frozen fans to rake John Travolta over the coals for getting her name wrong yet again.

Jennifer Lawrence will trip on the stage while presenting an Oscar with Hugh Jackman.

Sylvester Stallone will turn up at some point, and will remark on how he's been nominated for Oscars, reminding the Academy they can nominate his upcoming Rambo sequel.

Martin Scorsese will wonder if he should stop casting Leonardo DiCaprio in his movies.

Samuel L. Jackson will turn up on stage, take a look at the embalmed corpse of Jack Nicholson, and ask why the Academy felt they had to abide by Jack's final will. He will bellow, "I have had it with this mother****in' corpse in this mother****in' hall!"

Network censors will be horrified.

Barbra Streisand will storm the stage at some point, angrily demanding why the Academy didn't nominate her for Best Actress for The Guilt Trip two years ago. "I am a show business legend, damn you, and no one ignores me!" She will be finally be removed from the stage by an entire precinct of policemen, all while screeching The Way We Were at the top of her lungs. 

Neil Patrick Harris will be wondering if he made a huge mistake by agreeing to host this.

At some point, Leonardo DiCaprio will walk up on stage and launch into a tirade of rage at the Academy for  repeatedly refusing to give him an Oscar. In between the death threats, paranoid ranting, and gasps of exhaustion, Leo will wail, "It's just not fair! What did I ever do to deserve this? I mean, seriously, if Marisa Tomei can win an Oscar, why can't I?"

The rant will end when Marisa Tomei will come up on stage, sucker punching Leo, and breaking his nose.

Adam Sandler will tweet his personal outrage that he's never been nominated for an Oscar.

Reese Witherspoon, nominated this year for Wild, will be making a presentation for another award. She will first look down at Jack Nicholson's corpse, and ask, "Does anyone else find that really creepy?" Then she will ask if the Academy voters got their bribes or not.

Bradley Cooper will ask if they're doing the group selfie again this year.

Tom Cruise will sullenly demand why his films aren't getting Oscars, launching into a tirade for three hours about conspiracies against Scientology, despite the attempts of the orchestra to drown him out.

Benedict Cumberbatch will turn up to present an Oscar, explaining that yes, that is his name. He will add in a wry, cheerful way, that at least he doesn't have to worry about John Travolta calling him Adele Dazeem.

John Travolta, sitting in the audience, will ask, "what did Schubaker Eddington mean by that?"

The annual March Of The Dead will highlight the dead actors, directors, writers, and various crew and production staff of the last year. Bill Cosby's career will be listed among the dead. 

This year, the Oscar orchestra will be using Another One Bites The Dust as the orchestral cue to get winners who are running overtime to leave the stage.

At least fifteen winners will shush the orchestra and demand to continue to list their personal masseuses, accountants, hair stylists, bookies, teachers from grade three, yoga gurus, and Bjork among their people to thank.

Bjork will turn heads yet again, this hear wearing a dress consisting of a welding torch, tassels in just the right places, leather straps, and a garter belt, proclaiming that she's getting into a 50 Shades phase in her life.

Speaking of which, E.L. James will crash the ceremony, getting up on stage at one point, demanding that the Academy lavish the film adaptation of her book with every single award it can get next year, including Best Documentary.

Backstage, Leonardo DiCaprio will be caught on video crying while paramedics tend to his broken, bloody nose.

Clint Eastwood will have a conversation with an empty chair. Only he will seem to think that Lee Marvin is in the chair. No one will want to bring up the uncomfortable notion that Clint might be losing his marbles.

The Lifetime Achievement Award will be stolen by Barbra Streisand, who has escaped custody with the help of a booze soaked Charlie Sheen. The police will follow her in hot pursuit.

During the confusion, Charlie Sheen will turn up uninvited in the theatre, and tell the corpse of Jack Nicholson, "Hey, Jack, looking good! How about we two tiger blooded ninjas go out after and pick up some porn stars?"

Charlie will be confused by Jack's lack of response, totally unaware that Jack is dead. He will take to the podium and announce that he's just taking the Oscar for Best Picture for that X-rated video he did with porn star Ivana Screwlots, Charlie's Coed Adventure. "All of you lesser beings just wish you could bask in a microgram of Charlie Sheen glory," he will boast.

John Travolta will ask, "what's Carruthers Mombasa talking about?"

Tommy Lee Jones will step up on stage during Charlie's rambling drunken speech and start giving Charlie Sheen the beatdown he deserved thirty years ago.

News will reach the theatre that Barbra Streisand has been brought down by biplanes while climbing the Fox Plaza tower, almost as if in a scene out of King Kong. Barbra's name will not be added to the March Of The Dead, given that her last act was stealing the Lifetime Achievement Award. Legions of Barbra Streisand fans will be outraged, and will vow a swift and bloody revenge.

Julianne Moore will finally win an Oscar. She will be entirely gracious. John Travolta will say afterwards, "Wow, so Athena Kalamazoo finally won the Oscar?"

Neil Patrick Harris will close the ceremony seven hours late, half asleep, and asking, "will Billy Crystal just come back and do this again? It's getting worse every year."

Charlie Sheen will be taken away to the nearest hospital, where he will spend the next three years eating his meals through a straw, moaning about how much pain he's in, and having nightmares about Tommy Lee Jones coming to kill him.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

A Day In The Life Of A Cat

And now it is time for the point of view of our resident cat, one of the ultimate life forms on the planet....

7:32 AM. Waking up. Taking a big stretch. Slept well. Dreamed of rows of catnip.

7:38 AM. The staff makes her way downstairs. Well, staff, how about we start seeing to breakfast? Post haste. I have things to do with my day, after all. 

7:43 AM. The staff disappoints me yet again by giving me field rations. I pull up my nose in disdain and walk away.

7:52 AM. I find myself looking outside. Checking the thermometer. Far too cold out to go outside today. I will stay in and lie by the fireplace, toasting my belly. Assuming the staff leaves the fireplace on before she goes to work. Otherwise I will lie on one of the heating grates and bask in the lovely heat. Soon the whole house will end up smelling of cat.

8:10 AM. The staff bids goodbye on the way out the door. For some reason she turned down the gas on the fireplace.

8:15 AM. The staff is back in. Apparently the car isn't starting. Look, you can call the auto shop, or you can call into work and tell them you're stuck. In which case you can cater to my needs and wants all day.

8:22 AM. The staff is on the phone with that work place she goes to. Says something about working from home today. Oh good! Now I can be catered to for the rest of the day!

8:26 AM. The staff turns up the fireplace. Very nice, staff. Now, why don't you get us some milk and cookies and make your lap available to me?

8:43 AM. I find the staff up in the study working at her laptop. Commencing the butting of my head against her legs.

8:44 AM. Jumping up on the desk. The staff doesn't seem to appreciate my walking across the keyboard.

8:45 AM. What an injustice! Removed from the study! The door is closed! Staff, I thought you staying home today would mean you'd pay attention to me! Not actually work! Who'd hear of doing something that silly?

8:53 AM. Sitting in the living room. Perplexed by the staff. Close the door on me, will she?

8:56 AM. Despite my better judgment, I decide to have some of the field rations.

9:05 AM. Staring outside. It looks cold enough to chill the Abominable Snowman. I wonder if that annoying mutt is going to turn up today. Is he dumb enough to run around in this weather?

9:26 AM. I curl up by the fireplace for a nap. Naps are good.

12:10 PM. Waking up. Slept exceedingly well. Dreamed about chasing mice. 

12:12 PM. I see the study door is still closed. I hear the tapping of those computer keys. Staff, when are you going to come out and pay attention to me?

12:33 PM. Turning on the television. Weather Channel drone seems to be panicking. Something about a polar vortex and the end of the world. Honestly, where do they find these people? Not one spine among them. They're all gutless cowards.

12:38 PM. The staff comes out and looks at the television, then looks at me.

Yes, staff, I know how to turn the television on.

1:05 PM. The staff is making lunch. I meow firmly for a few slices of turkey breast. She obliges me. 

This is much better, staff.

1:25 PM. The staff is back in the study. Once again she has gotten in there and closed the door without my getting in. What's the fun of a day in if the staff can't cater to me?

5:10 PM. Waking up from my second nap of the day. Feeling refreshed.

6:22 PM. Supervising the staff while she's making dinner. Looks like she's making omelettes. I'm not exactly sure what the point of adding all those eggs, onions, and peppers to perfectly good sausage is, but at least she's leaving some sausage aside.

6:40 PM. The staff and I are having dinner. She's given me a bowl of sausage and a bowl of milk. This makes up for breakfast.

8:38 PM. Pounce up onto the staff's lap while she's reading, and I quickly proceed to head butt her chin as a show of affection, all while purring. It gets her past being startled and into petting me. Works every time.

11:32 PM. The staff is getting ready to go off to bed. I think I'll stay down here. It's still nice and toasty warm by the fireplace.

Any chance you can keep the fireplace on all night, staff?