I Changed My Cat’s Name Again (aka Not My Best Work)


I put stuff on Facebook too much. I suppose it’s easier than blogging but it’s such a waste of time.

As opposed to blogging, which is extremely productive.

I’m feeling loose right now, which is a welcomed changed from my uptight and pinched usual self. Let’s just say that it was the school art and music night, wherein I got to wander the halls looking for my kids’ art while they ran around the playground.

Especially because it's Thursday but whatever.

Especially because it’s Thursday but whatever.

I might have had a cocktail or two before I went. It’s important to stay hydrated in moments like these.

But at least I was wearing these dope boots.

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They are Balenciaga and retail for $1700. Loony got them for $50. Booyah!

I should talk about my cat.

He was named Meatball at the shelter because of his girth. Sadly, he’s lost weight since he moved in with us. It’s from all the aggressive licking and being mean to the dog.  It didn’t resonate.

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Then I called him Timpano, after my favorite Italian dish. But that one didn’t stick because, let’s face it, my cat isn’t even a tiny bit Italian.

This Italian man is hotter than fell, but I have a feeling that my cat is more Irish, or maybe English.

This Italian man is hotter than hell, but I have a feeling that my cat is more Irish, or maybe English.

So I tried Meecham, after the bisexual Secret Service Agent in House of Cards. Not quite.

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Now I’ve finally found the right name for him. He’s Mr. Bates.

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He has sexy jowls, just like my cat.

From Downton Abbey?

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Can’t you see the resemblance?

Do you see the resemblance? The big cheeks? The meaty jowls? The stocky build?

And like Mr. Bates from the show, my Mr Bates is kindly, a little standoffish (but a rogue in bed) and has a dark side and troubled past. Perfect.

And he’s totally my butler.

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Unlike a valet who serves me in the dressing room, Bates supervises me in the kitchen.

Here we are, making out.

Not really making out. I’m kinda trying to force french him and it’s not working. And I look like a pale zombie. I should have another drink, for hydration.

This is what our make-out sessions should look like.

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He’s the one on top.

I learned a new texturing technique in my ceramics class.

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I’ve been in a pretty deep funk lately and I sometimes feel like ceramics is all I’ve got. Today was wonderful because my instructor taught me a simple technique. It lit me up.

I’ve been making Stress Balls to deal with my worries.

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I’m waiting for them to come through the firing before I write a real post on them. But I’m pretty psyched.

Anyway, this short-term rental shit is still up in the air. It’s kind of like when a rumor goes around the office that so many jobs will be cut and you don’t know if that means you’ll be unemployed and are totally freaked out about the future but can’t really do anything about it? It’s like that.

It feels like this.

enhanced-7151-1429283667-26And now for some pictures of cats on the internet.

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6 thoughts on “I Changed My Cat’s Name Again (aka Not My Best Work)

  1. Inspired prose: “And like Mr. Bates from the show, my Mr Bates is kindly, a little standoffish (but a rogue in bed) and has a dark side and troubled past. Perfect.”

    Cat posts are always great at 5:30 AM. But what is that orange ball that might be a cat? And did you create that new format for “from the internet?” Looks kind of like a video screen. Did you come up with the caption “I regret nothing? LD

Really? No way.

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