You can have the scratching post. Our cats were too dumb to use it.
It could be a very smart scratching post.

There will be another opportunity; wisdom is realizing it.

Either you do already know or they’re wrong.

Say what needs to be said.

“I already know this story and it’s still TMI.”

N degrees of knowing what you’re talking about.

Shoplifters are ugly people.

Last chance. You want to just go barhopping instead?
“Yes. Stripbarhopping. But I don’t have any singles.”
I’m prepared. <pulls out wad of $2 bills>

Twice the fun.

“Syncretism. It’s a good Hellenistic method.”
Actually, it’s a good Roman method. Because it’s a good Hellenistic method.

One dei’s as good as another.

It shouldn’t be this hard to get from Act 1 to 2.
Make it start.
Make it stop.

This is a bad week to be one of my appliances which beeps when it’s not working right.

There’s more than one way to have a 3-day Labor Day weekend.

In a previous Away Message, I explained my use of third person plural for indefinite singulars. Let third person singular also be used alternatively; as the gendered pronoun in place of a neuter indicates familiarity, so let a neuter used in place of a gendered indicates a diminutive.

In the instance of animals, the third singular has ambiguity: an animal has natural gender, but lacks the type of linguistic sentience which allows first or second singular forms without anthropomorphizing. Thus,, let the third singular neuter be used.

A neutered pet is just a double coincidence.

We’re going to get along quite well.

I’ll just animal shelter or see if anyone has any friends with cats. Actually, do you have any friends?
Um… with cats?

My rest has been unstressful, but it is time to push for recommence of my journey. But there departure is not immediate; until then, let there be time to dally with a Calypso.

We just bought cats the way we bought pants.

Get-together at my place 6pm, Improvised Shakespeare 8pm at Graham Chapel. Come for either or both.

We’re getting these, aren’t we?

Just want I always wanted, with vanilla bean cupcakes.

We’re getting these.

Restless.

Orange rolls, orange rolls, and rolling oranges.

Once when I was little, eating at CPK, I wanted an ice cream sundae for dessert. My parents consented, provided I shared it with my father. I agreed, only to discover that I was left only the dregs of hot fudge, with my father taking his portion first, claiming nearly all of the ice cream. The traumatic experience taught me early on how difficult sharing can be.

Sharing is still difficult.

The problem is that I’m in a mood where I want to talk less and do more.

Just a spectator.

He’s a tragic figure stuck in a comedy.