CATS!

No, not the musical. I'm referring to those little furry creatures who creep into our hearts. And cupboards. And closets. And pantries. And whatever other door we forget to close. Let's face it, few creatures on the planet can fascinate us like cats. Tiny little balls of fur, but also ruthless killers. Well, most of them. We have three cats. When I say three, I actually mean two cats and one thing that resembles a cat but has never proven its validity. We've seen it being chased by birds, and even the occasional fly. And it is also the only male cat we have. So much for males being the dominant sex! Then we have our tabby cat. Mighty huntress, expert killer, and also cuddly as anything! And last but not least, we have our Maine Coon. A cat that defines the term "serial killer". She catches birds, lizards, snakes, insects, spiders....hell, if it moves, she'll catch it. If it doesn't move, she'll wait for it to move, and then catch it. And not just to eat. I'm convinced she does it just for fun! We found a recently deceased bird in our bathroom the one morning. It was clear that it was a case of murder most foul. Or fowl, as the case might be. And seeing as the bird was bigger than our tabby cat, that left just one suspect: our Maine Coon. And she didn't eat it. She simply murdered it and dragged it into our bathroom to show off her superiority.

The other thing that I find extremely strange is the fact that she would go outside when it is pouring with rain. And not a little bit of rain. I'm talking Noah's Ark type of rain! And she would romp around in it before finally coming inside, soaking wet, and jumping on our bed with the sole purpose of informing us, quite loudly, that it is in fact raining outside. Before then proceeding to rub herself dry against any exposed body part. Which is quite a shock in the middle of the night! Occasionally we'd also wake up to the sound of her chasing some hapless creature around the room. We'd hear her claws on the carpet, the sound of scrabbling or flapping from her victim, and also her soft chattering. Which I am convinced is her telling her victim what she intends to do with it! After a while silence would fall, and we'd be about to fall blissfully into dreamland again when the crunching starts. I should point out at this stage that she eats the entire victim, leaving only feathers behind if the deceased was of the feathery persuasion. It is quite hard to sleep with something crunching bone and munching internal organs under your bed!

I think that Andrew Lloyd Webber got it wrong. The musical Cats should have been 9 hours of the audience watching the cast members sleep. Occasionally one of the cast members would then get up and run around the audience for no reason before curling up on the stage again. And every now and then a female cast member would walk up to a male audience member, rub lovingly up against him before hacking up a hairball on his shoes and walking back to the stage. And yet, despite all the weirdness and unexplained behaviour, we love cats. (not the musical, the animals). In fact, my lovely companion recently shared an online comic she found about the weird and wonderful world of cats: http://theoatmeal.com/comics/cats_actually_kill. Quite apt, I think......

Dance, Baby! Dance!

I thought that I should clarify yesterday's post. I have nothing against dancing. In fact, watching people who can dance, who love it, who have trained and honed their skills and bodies to absolute perfection, is breathtaking. The grace, the poise, it's beautiful! So I have nothing against it, it's just that I can't do it. I'm not built like an athlete, nor do I possess any measurable amount of grace. I'm built like a wrestler (and at times when I get lazy and don't exercise, I'm built like a sumo wrestler). Plus, I'd have no idea what to do when I actually get on the dance floor. People tell me to feel the beat, to let it become part of you, to let it dictate what your body does. If that's the case, I'd probably wind up doing things like this:

I'd get looks of incredulity, of disbelieve or downright confusion. People would assume that I'm trying to attack them, or that I've gone mad, or that I'm having some sort of seizure. The point is that at some point I'm going to be asked to leave, and to never ever do that again. Pretty please.

I really was not joking when I said that people have mentioned to me that the classic Genesis song applies to me:

"I can't dance,
I can't talk,
The only thing about me is the way that I walk."

So I think that I will watch people who can dance. I will appreciate them. I will even envy them, but I shall not unleash myself onto a dance floor and freak them out. Let's face it, I may be the sole reason why they say most white guys shouldn't dance!

Oppa Gangnam Style!

Right, now that you have a ridiculously catchy and very annoying song stuck in your head, I can continue. I attended a friend's 21st birthday party over the weekend. Now, while that is not unusual, as at some point most people pass the 21 year mark, I found myself quite confused by the latest styles in dancing. This friend of mine is quite the dancer, and is very proficient in ballroom and latin american dancing. And I can understand why. Watching someone who knows what they are doing when it comes to ballroom dancing is like watching an eagle glide on an air current, or a swan swimming on a lake. It is breathtaking. Watching someone who can't do it though (someone very much like me) is like watching someone who just sat on a tazer. It's a very unpleasant sight! At some point during the evening, (with it being a 21st birthday party and all) inevitably the DJ decided to unpack this very popular and intensely annoying song, hence the title of my post. It is the latest offering from Korea, and has taken the world by storm. But upon hearing it for the first time, most people have this facial expression:

You are not sure if you like it, or if you have just been musically insulted. Add to that the fact that 90% of the song is in Korean, and you can only sing along with the chorus, it makes it quite confusing for most people. Then there is the dance that goes with it. Described as "invisible horse riding" it makes just as little sense as the song itself. And yet most people know how to do it. My mind boggles at this! Granted, I suppose it is quite fun to do after you've had some alcoholic liquid refreshment, but you have to live with the knowledge that you actually did it in public when you once again have a moment of sobriety. Maybe I'm getting old and stuffy, or maybe the world is just moving at a faster pace than I am used to, or maybe it's just the fact that I can't dance, but I just don't get it. But then, someone once told me that the classic Genesis song "I Can't Dance" applies to me, so maybe I should just quit complaining and sit back and enjoy the show...

FUS ROH.....um.....DARN IT!!!

I thought I'd share an activity that my lovely companion and I use to unwind. Now before you think "this is going to get x-rated, better cover my monitor!" I can say that no, that's not it. And shame on you! In February of 2012, we purchased a new game, something that we had heard lots of rave reviews about. And, like countless others across the globe, we immediately got addicted to the wonder that is........(insert drum roll here)........Skyrim!

For the more ignorant among us, let me give a bit of background. Skyrim is the 5th game in the Elder Scroll series. (I know I sound all knowledgeable, but to be honest, before Skyrim I didn't even know the Elder Scroll series existed!) The story is set in a land very akin to Lord of the Rings, with dragons, trolls, elves, dwarves, orcs and humans. Even your weaponry consists of swords, axes, maces (not the spraying kind, think metal clubbing implement), warhammers, bows and arrows and of course, magic. And of course there's armour to think about as well. And it comes in the latest fashions (if you are into medieval armour that makes you look like you robbed a forge) and different shapes and sizes. It even has what my lovely companion and I have dubbed "fur bikinis". Example below:

While it barely covers anything, properly upgraded it has quite a high armour rating, while at the same time making you look like something out of Baywatch: The Dark Ages. At a low character level, going up against the Forsworn (as these fur-clad baddies are known) can be quite daunting. Most encounters with them basically consist of landing about two blows before running away screaming "Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!" like a 5 year old girl. Scary thing is, they are but one example of the multitudes of enemies that an aspiring adventurer like yourself can face. Other examples include frostbite spiders (spiders so large they make the movie Arachnophobia look like a fairy tale!), trolls, wolves, sabre tooth tigers, bears, skeevers (rat-like creatures the size of a basset hound, and just as annoying!) and various other magical creatures that just really don't like you. And that's just the animal part of it. You still have bandits, thieves, assassins, mages and a variety of other human baddies as well. Then, of course, there are the dragons. Big ones! And multitudes of them! At low levels dragon encounters basically consist of running away and hiding. It is possible to kill them though. When one sprays you with fire, simply stop, drop, and be Chuck Norris! Although I'd only recommend this brave action at a higher level.

If this post has not yet convinced you to try this awesome game, herewith, for your viewing pleasure, an awesome video to help you make up your mind:

Skyrim Trailer

Kudos to the amazing artist Malukah for the cover of the in-game song "Dragonborn" used in the video!

Hold still you little......!

After a long (and rather awkward) silence, I am proud to announce that my lovely companion has now passed the halfway mark in her pregnancy. She has gotten more shapely, the cravings have died down and we can now feel our little bundle of joy moving about. Well, when I say moving, I mean playing Karate Kid. I am fairly certain that we have the next Chuck Norris gestating inside my lovely companion's womb. Sonar scans to try and determine the sex of our little busy body fail miserably, because he/she does not want to hold still! All I can say for sure at the moment is that it's a baby. At this rate we'll probably only know once the kid pops out and the doctor goes "It's a boy/girl!". Probably right before he gets roundhouse kicked in the face by our little karate star. My lovely companion mentions quite frequently that she can feel him/her kicking, usually right before going crosseyed and having to run to the bathroom because she's getting the flip kicked out of her bladder.

At this point our kid will probably look something like this:

Feeding time will probably just be 30 minutes of the kid latched onto one boob while using the other one as a punching bag! We've created a monster! (But a cute and cuddly one!)