here, kittykittykitty
This week of leave is beautifully timed, I'm beginning to feel almost human after a couple of days of doing not much. On the downside, my brain is apparently disconnecting, leading to strange manifestations such as completely random posting on the subject of cats. I suppose it was inevitable after all the ranting yesterday about Tolkien's palpable cat-hatred1.
Courtesy of Making Light, observe the perverse beauty that is Torchwood LOLcat fanfic. This is very funny. Trust me.
The Evil Landlord has a flourishing second career as a sort of extended cat-cushion, and of an evening submits to being multiply felinely draped with astonishing patience. Occasionally, cuteness results. I leave the LOLcat caption as an exercise to the reader, although YR NOZE I CAN HAZ IT does spring inevitably to mind, as does the kind of swelling violin music associated with the fade-out clinch in a chickflick. You should also note that Todal is sitting on the EL's lap at the same time as Ounce is sitting on his chest, evidence here. The Dear Little Felines don't do it to me, on account of how (a) Ounce is still convinced I kill and eat him daily, and (b) being grumped at and flung across the room often offends.
1 Isn't it amazing how you can post a carefully-considered dissection of Lewis and sexuality, together with a random segue into Tolkien-dissing, and have the comments spring to life with an impassioned discussion of The Incredible Hulk? Human perversity is a strange and wonderful thing.
Courtesy of Making Light, observe the perverse beauty that is Torchwood LOLcat fanfic. This is very funny. Trust me.
The Evil Landlord has a flourishing second career as a sort of extended cat-cushion, and of an evening submits to being multiply felinely draped with astonishing patience. Occasionally, cuteness results. I leave the LOLcat caption as an exercise to the reader, although YR NOZE I CAN HAZ IT does spring inevitably to mind, as does the kind of swelling violin music associated with the fade-out clinch in a chickflick. You should also note that Todal is sitting on the EL's lap at the same time as Ounce is sitting on his chest, evidence here. The Dear Little Felines don't do it to me, on account of how (a) Ounce is still convinced I kill and eat him daily, and (b) being grumped at and flung across the room often offends.
1 Isn't it amazing how you can post a carefully-considered dissection of Lewis and sexuality, together with a random segue into Tolkien-dissing, and have the comments spring to life with an impassioned discussion of The Incredible Hulk? Human perversity is a strange and wonderful thing.