The Weird Part in the Middle

There comes a point in every adult-with-two-professional-degrees’ life where they find themselves sucking on a peach pit, listening to Fleetwood Mac in someone else’s house, wearing a purple t-shirt with an anthropomorphic tooth on it, and wondering how they are going to get their aforementioned life together.

I am that person.

One of my least favorite Fleetwood Mac songs, the impossibly upbeat “Don’t Stop”, is screaming at me through compubox presently, DON’T STOP THINKING ABOUT TOMORROW and I’m like I AM NOT I PROMISE YOU I ONLY THINK ABOUT TOMORROW EXCEPT FOR THE TIMES WHEN I AM THINKING ABOUT ALL THE YESTERDAYS I’LL NEVER GET BACK.

Life is in a curious place currently.

This weekend we move out to make room for the Tutens, the rightful owners of this veritable cat mansion. So, it is soon farewell (or “see you around”) to the Kittyboys, pictured below getting 2Buff:



And the Next Part starts– the pole tent Grossland fire cooking frontier life, the visitors from Vermont, the impending Friendzilla, the trips westward, and then the rest, of whatever it is.

As long as I don’t listen to Landslide we should be okay. (Oh, Sarah, remember?)

I love you all; here are some cats.


God bless America.

Screen Shot 2013-05-12 at 11.25.47 AM



from BLUM



About bearicaquinn

Smallish, smushy in the sad parts, certainly destined for cat-lady-dom. Enjoys boats, bikes, black coffee, pug faces, sourdough bread, the morning when you have slept long enough, beards, mountainsides, art, rooftops, etc. Will continue to live in things that are interestingly shaped. So octopus.
This entry was posted in Cat Kitsch, Charming Anecdote. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Weird Part in the Middle

  1. Ben says:

    I actually like Don’t Stop, mainly because it makes me think of this guy:

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