Archives for posts with tag: cat

Not the actual cat. Image from the interwebs

Some folks in Iowa recently named a rescued kitten “Firecracker” after veterinarians determined that the feline’s facial injuries had likely been caused by some sort of fireworks. In the interest of blog humor, I won’t get on a soapbox and rail against the sadistic nature of the cretins who perpetrate such acts upon innocent, sweet animals (or even cats for that matter).

Instead, I’d like to question the wisdom of christening a cat with such an awful name.  If it was a feisty tabby with an explosive personality and the potential to tear digits to shreds, then a moniker like Firecracker might be an apt handle.  Naming this little guy after the explosive that blew his whiskers off seems a bit cruel.  On the plus side, since it’s a cat, the name doesn’t really matter as they only respond to the sound of electric can openers anyway.

Naming pets is kind of an egotistical act of futility.  In the wild, they manage just fine without any sort of name at all.  Thanks to us, African parrots are all called Polly, toucans are Sam, and orange cats are typically Morris. If that zoo had the foresight to not tag that gorilla a nice African sounding Harambe, 20-somethings would have far less to put on their ironic memes and T-shirts.  Bored frat boys would not likely popularize the battle cry of “Dicks out for that gorilla they killed in the zoo that time.”

Remember my last post? It sucked too! Image from keppcalm-o-matic dot co dot uk

It’s fun to go to the off-leash dog park and listen to frustrated owners calling out the poor choices in names of their disobedient dogs.  New dog owners often give their pups awful names, unaware of how often and loudly they’ll have to use it.

Cumberbatch! Come!….CUMBERBATCH!  Come on boy!”  That shit never gets old.  If my allergies weren’t so bad I’d go spend the morning at the off-leash cat park.

 

 

 

 

Can haz poor invizables shampain!

Can haz poor invizables shampain!

It’s that time again. Time to pop the corks and pray that, back when you were sober, you had the good sense to find a designated driver you could trust with your life. Did you choose wisely?

Old Geezer 2013 is set to hobble away with his walker into that good night and fresh-faced millennial extraordinaire L’enfant Terrible 2014 is poised to shoot from the chute, iPhone in one hand and cigarette in the other. Pop a fedora atop his pointy head because it’s his party and he can do what he wants.

Introducing 2014: The Year of the Twerk Birth. Read the rest of this entry »