Thursday, 28 January 2016

A Purrfect Sunday



A furry compadre us humans (well, the cat clan members) will happily stroke repeatedly- the same motion, over and over again- potentially for hours. Keeping both hands on the cat at all times and one eye on the T.V. This tolerance for repeti
tive actions is something I don't seem to possess when it comes to reluctantly chasing my own feet on the treadmill. For anything besides petting kitties or eating Reece's peanut butter doughnuts, I'd claim to have sustained repetitive strain injury and seek compensation.

Introducing my 'Friends' inspired cat, Joey.
Ah the soothing softness when your hands slip jealously over the cat's furiously fluffy coat. No, coat doesn't do it justice. The cat's snugglesome dressing gown- one of those luxurious expensive one's from M&S. Grooming the purring pile with my own winter dry, naked-molerat, evolutionary error, furr-less skin. Oh how I dream of the past millenia of our monkey days, when we too had some kind of furry cardigan. Perhaps that train of thought is only applicable to me.

But it can't just be the elegant exterior of the kitty cats that we find so appealing. Replace the soft creature with an equally slippy silky scarf. An arguably equally hand hugging texture, but not something I can imagine being satisfactory to the companion and comfort craving cat crusaders. No, like all good kids movies morals, cat loving is not just skin deep. There is a kitty quality, a sense of calm and some expert level pet owners would say a completeness that can be achieved from settling down into the sofa with your favourite film and feline.

(And to address the comments about cats being self serving, snobby creatures, I have a rebuttal. Have you ever had such fun with a cucumber? To clarify; I mean scaring cats with said cucumbers. Additionally, they're very fluffy. To clarify again; I mean the cats, not the cucumbers).

Tuesday, 12 January 2016

A Resolution About Resolutions

Another year, another fated opportunity to incorrectly scribble down last years date. Fortunately, mutating a 5 into a 6 is perfectly passable on paper. On the 1st of January, we all take a drunken stumble into our recycled and often unachieved New Year's resolutions. And as we do every year, we promise ourselves that we really are more motivated than before, plus 4 to 400 other excuses for gaining that stone instead of losing it. But my cat being lost really did throw off my diet, it was very distracting, honestly.

At the chime of midnight, we make promises to ourselves with the best intentions, but at the end of the year if we didn't achieve them, the only person disappointed is ourselves. So why is it that we cannot commit to doing something that ultimately will make us happier? Imagine if every person in the world who made a resolution actually achieved it- my god, we'd have an incredibly slim, smoke-free, money stable and well travelled population. To paint a population percentage picture, in the US, 45 percent of people make New Year's resolutions, but just 8 determined little percent of them were successful in their endeavours. So a well done to Bob, Sue And Timothy last year, we're all proud of you.


As much as statistics could potentially discourage you from setting big goals, I mean it is fair enough, announcing to a crowd of hugging, kissing and cheering individuals at your new years party, as the party poppers stream across the room, “ALL OF YOU WILL FAIL”, isn't really inspiring. I think we should all try to boost the percentage of success stories. Prove to the human race that not only the elite can have Yoda like mind power when it comes to determination and will power. This year's resolution is to achieve a resolution. Go.