On the Lighter Side of Things…


Reflecting upon my last few Blog entries, I have observed that my missives have been of a rather intense nature. This intensity/passion is most certainly a big part of who I am. Folks who know me, however, probably see me as being more of a clown (not of the Heinrich Böll variety) as opposed to my cyber persona of a cerebral masochist who paces introspectively back and forth across the well-worn tegument of his utilitarian hovel, wondering how to drag the world along with my iconoclastic and revolutionary ambitions.

My first instinct was to become introspective about my intensity levels as of late. Next, I considered delving into a silly post like “Real-E XXX-Posé” where I’d confess to things about myself like not knowing, until a very late age, that the Village People were gay (I always fought with a friend of mine over who would be Fillipe the Indian), my closet love of Abba and Coronation Street, or simply re-visit my Roller Girls fetish. Nah. So then I thought I’d write a subliminal post intended, very covertly, to visit my other Blog where I published my novella (see links bar to the right), and see if someone out there would actually take the time to read it. But that would be cheap and no one is truly great until they are dead in the world of Art and Letters.

Then I received this email from a friend of a rather interesting cat photo. You see, I have a cat named Montgomery, who is a bit of a legacy. ‘Gomey’ is pushing eleven, and has been known to most by his nickname (no pun intended) of ‘Satan’. Gomey has issues. He’s just over 20 lbs (all lean too) and hates absolutely everyone excepting my wife, daughter and I. I’m not talking being aloof, I’m talking stalk and go for the kill (and he doesn’t back down). Perhaps Gomey is the necessary Yin to the Yang of our two 70 lb+ dogs, Saša (Golden Retriever) and Kaya (part German Shepherd/Border Collie) who think that they are lap dogs and make most attention seekers seem shy. So, in a nutshell, Gomey makes Woland’s companion cat in Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita look like a real pussy.

So, for all you cat lovers out there, and those of you simply seeking a chuckle, here is a wee jab at one of nature’s most majestic and proud critters!

...Below are a couple of photo's of the characters in my personal microcosmic Animal Farm....