Category: Fourre-tout

 

Anyone who believes what a cat tells him deserves all he gets. -Neil Gaiman

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When I said “bitch”, I didn’t mean a nice female pooch, but a malicious, spiteful, vindictive she-devil feline. She is a certified bitch, “an attractive female who is capable of manipulating men into getting her way” and I have the scars to prove it.

Attractive she is. No denying it. She is a stunner and that’s what originally drew me to her when I first spotted her in the animal shelter. So I took her home.
You would think that she would be grateful for that, but this is not the way of a bitch. Gratitude is definitely not one of her endearing quality.
She gets away with murder because she is pretty, very pretty… and she knows it.

But under a glamorous appearance, lurks a quick-tempered female who can switch from pleasant to aggressive in the blink of an eye.
One minute she kisses you, the next she bites you. I am starting to think that might be bi-polar.

A cat basically sleeps, eats and grooms, not necessarily in that order.
My cat likes to find a sunny spot to lounge, with preferably a daiquiri within reach. Like a Hollywood starlet she pretends to snooze, but her moving ears betray her. Through half-closed eyes, she is perfectly aware of what’s going on around her and appraises her admirers. Loser… loser… maybe… loser… dweeb… nerd…
No, no autographs today. Speak to my agent.

Once in a while though she wants to play. That’s when it becomes tricky, because with a bitch “You can play but you will not win.”
In her overwhelming desire to win, she reverts to her true personality. Doctor Jekyll disappears and mister Hyde enters the room. She will stop at nothing (bites and scratches) to be victorious.
To play with her, you better wear chain-mail gauntlets and a catcher’s facemask.

“Cats are notoriously sore losers. Coming in second best, especially to someone as poorly coordinated as a human being, grates their sensibility.” ~Stephen Baker

She is definitely not your idea of a “normal” cat. She does not like to be petted and does not purr. Purrs are for sissies.
She will cuddle but on her own terms. At night she might sneak on our bed and cuddle next to me. Not because she particularly likes me but more likely to appropriate my body heat… with formal interdiction to move anymore.

She is a bitch, but damn I would find it difficult to live without her.
And that’s the timeless problem with bitches. It is extremely hard, if not impossible to serve them with their walking papers.
You want to get rid of me buddy? It’s going to cost you big time.
You better get a good lawyer, and for your information Gloria Allred and PETA are ready to back me up.

How can you not love respect such a Machiavellian bitch?

Alain

? PS: Watch my latest photo album.
To look at these photos and listen to the accompanying music, turn your computer’s sound on and click on the link “My Photos” located on the right side of the home page. For best viewing, go “Full Screen”.
Thank you ?

 

 

“Badges? We don’t need no stinkin’ badges!”

? ????

When I was a young boy, I loved going to a movie theater to watch a Hollywood flick. And in those innocent days, I would go at least once a week.

Not anymore. Is it age or hypersensitivity? I don’t know.
But what I know and what is a terrible annoyance to me nowadays is the incredibly high decibel level of the theaters’ sound system.
Teenyboppers and teenagers probably love shaking in their seats, but my eardrums are not accustomed to such brutish treatment anymore and I find this extremely unpleasant.

Confidentially, I prefer to watch a movie at home on my large high definition TV screen.
At home, in the coziness of your boudoir, you can watch it in your jammies or au naturel, and if you feel so inclined you can also indulge in a few puffs of locoweed.
At home, you can also mercifully control the sound level or stop the movie altogether any time for a spot of tea or a pipi break.
And in order to catch every bit of a sometimes-mumbled dialogue you can also turn on the subtitles. Last but not least, I cannot stand the sight and the sound of popcorn chompers.
Why then would I go to a stinkin’ noisy, uncomfortable auditorium to watch a talkie?

Last night though, coerced by my main squeeze who wanted to see “La La Land” I went to such a place…

The movie was not perfect and a bit long (2h 8m) but generally speaking we liked it. The two main characters (Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone) were very good but above all, I was amazed by the sheer versatility of Ryan Gosling.
He sang, he danced and above all he played a mean keyboard. Yes, it was really him who banged convincingly on the piano during the entire movie, and he was amazingly good.

The soundtrack of La La Land is catchy and pleasurable at the same time. Unlike some soundtracks, it has appealing melodies (City of Stars for instance) and as soon as I came home I went online and bought a few tracks from Apple iTunes.

I feel confident that this movie along with Canadian-born Gosling and Stone will reap quite a few trophies, if not the best movie award at the Oscars ceremony on February 26, 2017.

See you on the Red Carpet!

Alain ?

Everything you see I owe to spaghetti. – Sophia Loren

He who hugs too much, hugs badly! Jeanne Calment

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She ought to know. She lived to be 122 years and 164 days, the longest confirmed human lifespan on record and she must have known quite a bit (more than any of us) about hugs.

And yes, I totally agree with the late Madame Calment. Everybody should know that the minute an item is mass-produced it immediately loses its exclusivity and its worth.

Imagine for a minute that De Beers and all the diamond-mining companies in the world suddenly flooded the market with all the diamonds they hold in reserve.
The price of the (no more precious) stones would tumble and all the “rocks” would become as worthless as common pebbles.
Overabundance my friends, is often synonymous to depreciation, to decrease in value.

The same goes for hugs.
A hug is special. It is reserved for lovers, family, pets or very close friends. You don’t hug any Tom, Dick or Harry because it has suddenly become fashionable.
If you do so, your hug is fake.

In a way, this sudden popularity of the bro-hug in America is not really surprising.
Young Americans are a mixture of copycats and lemmings. When they see something that looks cool, they will duplicate it; and they will do it to excess because in America, excess is the norm.
My theory is that the kids picked up this routine from hombres across the border. A well- executed abrazo is macho and supercool. A bad one is pathetic at best.
Old farts by the way don’t hug, they cross canes.

An honest hug should be spontaneous, not calculated. You don’t hug because it is “à la mode du jour”, but because you really mean it.
Some people are good huggers and some are extremely awkward huggers. The best huggers are women. It comes fairly naturally to them and most of the time they do it right.

For men, it is an acquired taste. Like a tennis backhand a hug needs to be worked on, otherwise you could get entangled in a ridiculous embrace.

One additional reason to distrust would-be huggers is that it is much easier for them to plant a dagger in your back while they are holding you tight.
Especially at the end of a tournament, beware of losers who want to embrace you. There is no reason for them to do so other than testing your defenses. In my opinion a handshake is much less dangerous and definitely more sanitary than a phony hug.

So, to sum up it up, I am not fond of bro-hugging a bunch of guys. I would rather hug a tree  than making body contact with a guy I barely know.

I will make an exception for a comely lass though, and submit to a voluptuous hug if I have to. Noblesse oblige!

Alain ??