Desiderius Price

September 22 is the last day of summer.
September 23 Is the first of Fall.

Funny to be at that point where I now consider 3k in a day to be “slow”.

Funny to be at that point where I now consider 3k in a day to be “slow”.

people think i am crazy for paying $43 for 4 bottles of Mountain Dew. I might be but i got my hands on that Canadian only Mountain dew! its pretty good!

Yep, here’s a status update @Deadman, works in Firefox v115.0.2.

i was doing so well with my new story and i hit a snag! ugh! 

Woo! ever since I got inscription out I can write since my brain is de-cluttered lol!

Repeat after me.  “Homemade Chocolate Chip Cookies should not be counted as breakfast.”  No, doesn’t work… munch munch.  🍪 🍪

Repeat after me.  “Homemade Chocolate Chip Cookies should not be counted as breakfast.”  No, doesn’t work… munch munch.  🍪 🍪

Another Sunday of not sharing the clean laundry, missing the little guy.

Got bitten by plot bunny again and can’t finish cause the half formed idea is drowning out the chapter I’m writing 😅

Unfortunately, the cat’s never going to be old enough for a beer.  He’s in end stage kidney failure, and I get to call up the vet later today 😢

Unfortunately, the cat’s never going to be old enough for a beer.  He’s in end stage kidney failure, and I get to call up the vet later today 😢

Unfortunately, the cat’s never going to be old enough for a beer.  He’s in end stage kidney failure, and I get to call up the vet later today 😢

Unfortunately, the cat’s never going to be old enough for a beer.  He’s in end stage kidney failure, and I get to call up the vet later today 😢

That unplanned moment I’m having to name a boa constrictor “Cuddles” in my fanfic…

And YES I’ve met the 50k goal for the month! 

Wishing the very happiest of birthdays to my dear pippychick, with love and hugs! 

While my husband fed the cats a moment ago, I squirted the younger one’s liquid medicine down his throat. Woozle, the little shit, let half the dose drip out of his mouth and roll down my shirt and shorts. I grumbled about it—because that medicine stains, turns into tar, and smells like rotten fish a roadkill—and what did Cold say?
”Well. Pussy likes to dribble.”
 I married this clown. I married him. (He’s not wrong, though.)

You all redecorated… Hope everyone is doing okay. x

for the first time in a long time while working at Wally world, I have a day off on the 4th of July. Its on a Tuesday and that is my normal day off so i FINALLY get to enjoy the 4th off! wooooot 

Six months to Christmas! 
(that’s all folks.)

Six months to Christmas! 
(that’s all folks.)

Six months to Christmas! 
(that’s all folks.)

The Naming of Cats
T. S. Eliot 1888 –  1965 The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
     It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily,
     Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo, or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey—
     All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
     Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter—
     But all of them sensible everyday names,
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular,
     A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
     Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
     Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum—
     Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there’s still one name left over,
     And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover—
     But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
     The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
     Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
          His ineffable effable
          Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular name.
From Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. Copyright © 1939 by T. S. Eliot, renewed © 1967 by Esme Valerie Eliot.