At the back of the hill

Warning: May contain traces of soy, wheat, lecithin and tree nuts. That you are here
strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton.
And that you might like cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Friday, March 09, 2018


A recent article circulated on the internet examines the phenomenon of 'cat cafes'. That being places where one can get a cappuccino or a soothing cup of chamomile while interacting with felines. Who might not be in the mood, grumpy, or just plain bad tempered and averse to being petted.
Sometimes the little furballs freak out.

There are problems.

Two ideas spring unbidden:

1) Possum cafes -- they're adept at playing dead. Or maybe they are dead. You get to watch them from a distance. Don't touch.

2) Cat-girl cafes -- almost like real animals. The star-attractions should be encouraged to be there with free drinks and snacks (sushi in mouse-like shapes). No differences of age, gender, race, proclivity, size, or standard of personal cleanliness will be taken into account, for reasons of political correctness (and stirring things up). Hissy fits will be tolerated, as will long naps. Dating them is discouraged, because we don't know who they are or who they've killed. No children allowed.

If it's your personal sense of identity to be a cat, who are we to judge?

Or perhaps you just want to sleep dressed like an animal.

Some tomcats are huge. As well as mean.

They're cats.

Today is Friday, and I don't have to work.
I'll probably go to a pork chop cafe.
Therapy and a hot beverage.
It's so relaxing.

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