PipesDreams

One not-at-all purebred lynx point siamese, answers to ‘Montgomery’.

Was briefly cute as a kitten, but quickly developed discerning taste for human flesh, strange caterwauling tendencies, irritable stomach, skittish nature, hateful glare and now, on the eve of his thirteenth birthday (Aquarius, born January 31, 1994), an extremely cantankerous attitude towards my pyjamas, which includes urinating on them in the evening just before bedtime while they are located under the duvet and above the mattress; both of which were drenched by association.

Ideal future owner lacks nociceptors, olfactory functionality, auditory acuity and should be comfortable sleeping in the nude while being stared at balefully by a small, senselessly angry feline whose leisure activities include vomiting and ignoring the cat toys I knit for him.

N.B. Applications for adoption from adventuresome non-PETA gourmands, eager to finally sate their curiosity as to the taste of domesticated pate, will be considered (but not seriously)

has the greenest thumb ever. She brought this orchid back to life, when only a few months ago it had shrunken, yellowing leaves and a dead stem. She’s like Nero Wolfe, only a lot thinner and less grumpy and she isn’t an agoraphobic, misogynist Montenegrin ex-spy living in a New York brownstone. Also, I am nothing like Archie Goodwin. Well, okay, I do like to narrate, have a prodigious memory, enjoy drinking milk and consider myself a hit with the ladies…

But I digress.

Work is about to get very, very busy. I am anticipating at least a solid month of working 8am-8pm and some weekends, so I regret to inform that it is time for me to relinquish my death grip on this crack pipe we call the Interweb. Sorry, but my wild and carefree posting days are at an end. I’m sure you’re all deeply saddened by this news. Counselling will be available through ‘s MoFo addictions group.

Thanks to for my Battlestar Galactica music fix this morning – it’s getting me through the day.

Pipes out.