On the same day many are rushing to confirm how terrible Suicide Squad is with their own eyes, a far more questionable movie hits theaters: Nine Lives. Starring Kevin Spacey. As a cat. And Jennifer Garner. As his wife.
I’m not really sure what’s going on here. Can you train a cat to do that? Is it tied down somehow? There is a strand of string around the cat’s neck; I guess, with the right chemistry, that’s all it takes.
“A cat hopped into a UPS truck for a joyride, never to be seen again” would’ve been the lead of this story if this was 1985.
You may heard pray tell Zip Davies has the cash in hand to buy out the joint, chapter 11 of the book has been reached, and it’s true. But is that the last chapter? No, eleven is not even a big number to be honest here, and I want to be honest and direct, with you, the reader. Through thick and thin. The mission as we…
Lifespan-wise that’s the equivalent of around 50 in human years. Getting up there, little buddy, as we all are.
If you get a cat—and, you should, cats are fine—you should be prepared for them to scratch on everything in your home (except, confoundingly, the scratching post). You can and should combat this by keeping their claws clipped to a safe and sanitary length, just as you do your own nails, or by purchasing acrylic nail…
A nice cat escaped from somewhere and got onto the field at the Angels game this evening, ran around a bunch, leapt a wall, and ran through hundreds of bemused fans. The best part of this video is watching the reactions of cascading sections of fans as our friend here made his break for freedom.
Face filters are good, perhaps the only good software innovation of the past ten years. Steve Jobs made smartphones happen for this eventual purpose.
Bear with me for a second because I have something on my mind that is neither interesting nor funny nor cute. I’m particularly fascinated by the ambient sound of the Kago Neko Shiro videos. Just listen for a second:
“When from a long-distant past nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, still, alone, more fragile, but with more vitality, more unsubstantial, more persistent, more faithful, the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls, ready to remind us, waiting…
At around 5 a.m. during the first night my boyfriend spent at my apartment, we were shocked out of our sleep by a glass of water that had been dumped on us. The culprit: my cat, Kelloggs.