Et Tu, Kitty?
posted by Tachaé @ Thursday, October 16, 2008
About Me
- Name: Tachaé
- Location: Calgary, Alberta, Canada
"The girl who lives there used to be a charming, lovely girl, but she's lost faith in herself... She's a monster! Infectious human waste! Good luck trying to save her! " "If I had a tumor, I'd name it Marla." "Marla... the big tourist. Her lie relfected my lie... So once again, I couldnt sleep." " Marla's philosophy of life was that she might die at any moment ... The tragedy she said, was that she didnt."
Previous Posts
- What Ive Been Up To... And More
- Watch It. You Have To.
- Its True
- Life To Lifeless
- Opticon
- Dessert For Breakfast
- The Edge Of Reason
- Time for Palin to put up or shut up
- poo.
- Diamonds Are A Girls Best Friend
5 Comments:
At 16/10/08 1:37 PM,
Heff said…
What the hell ? Did that even make any sense ?
At 16/10/08 5:09 PM,
Geoff Schutt said…
"I believe cats are the future," says Eleanor.
... from "This Side of Paradise"
At 16/10/08 5:44 PM,
The Mad Celt said…
Hamlet's Cat
To go outside, and there perchance to stay
Or to remain within : that is the question.
Whether 'tis better for a cat to suffer
The cuffs and buffets of inclement weather
That Nature rains on those who roam abroad,
Or take a nap upon a scrap of carpet,
And so by dozing melt the solid hours
That clog the clock's bright gears with sullen time
And stall the dinner bell.
To sit, to stare
Outdoors, and by a stare to seem to state
A wish to venture forth without delay,
Then when the portal's opened up, to stand
As if transfixed by doubt.
To prowl; to sleep;
To choose not knowing when we may once more
Our re-admittance gain: aye, there's the hairball;
For if a paw were shaped to turn a knob,
Or work a lock or slip a window-catch
And going out and coming in were made
As simple as the breaking of a bowl.
What cat would bear the household's petty plagues,
The cook's well-practiced kicks, the butler's broom,
The infant's careless pokes, the tickled ears,
The trampled tail, and all the daily shocks
That fur is heir to, when of his own free will,
He might his exodus or entrance make with a mere mitten?
Who would spaniels fear,
Or strays trespassing from a neighbor's yard,
But that the dread of our unheeded cries
And scratches at a barricaded door
No claw can open up, dispels our nerve
And makes us rather bear our humans' faults
Than run away to un-guessed miseries?
Thus caution doth make house cats of us all;
And thus the bristling hair of resolution
Is softened up with the pale brush of thought
And since our choices hinge on weighty things,
We pause upon the threshold of decision.
At 16/10/08 5:48 PM,
Tachaé said…
It made total and complete sense to everyone else.
so there. neener neener.
kitties forever!
and ... im the little black kitten.
At 21/10/08 7:03 AM,
Wil said…
I'm starting to get a little lost over here my own damn self Heff.
The Trailer Of Love
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