Tag Archives: cartoon

Running Outside in the Spring: Expectation vs. Reality

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And then you go home and continue to spit out gnats for literally two hours.

Still beats the treadmill.

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Thank you, you got nice ____.

Monday was a holiday in Ontario, Family Day, so I took the opportunity to visit my saucy 100-and-a-half-year-old Nana. When I got to her nursing home it was afternoon TV time, so she was sitting in a big leather recliner in the main room with some of the other residents. I pulled up a seat next to her for a catch-up chat.

A few feet away, a man was sitting in his wheelchair. I would estimate him to be about 90 years old.

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He dropped his mug…

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And was in a bit of a panic about it. The nurses were busy tending to someone else across the room and no one seemed to be paying attention to him, so I got up to help him out.

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And then…

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I was caught VERY off guard and I did not know what to do, so…

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Because what do you say to that?

And then I turned away and burst out laughing.

I sat back down with the Nanners to continue our conversation. She nor anyone else had heard the nice t*ts exchange. Five minutes later…

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Not this time, buddy.

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Rocky the Attack Cat

So, I love cats. I have always loved cats, my family has always owned cats, and you may remember that I was catsitting for two separate kitties over the Christmas holidays. And of course I love my spry elder kitty Winnie.

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Love her a lot.

But it is a little bit surprising that I love cats so much, because I had a very traumatic experience when I was quite young involving my family’s first cat, Rocky.

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He liked to photobomb me.

Rocky was not exactly the friendliest kitty. I’m surprised he is letting me pick him up in the above photo because generally Rocky was not a fan of that. Sometimes he would sit near me and allow me to pet him, but if I tried to take our snuggling to the next level he would to get grumpy and make a getaway. Fair enough, I was young so sometimes I was a bit of a dick to him. It is understandable that I was not his favourite. Winnie still does not particularly like children because of how horrible my brother was to her when he was younger. Usually I let Rocky do his own thing and didn’t bother him too badly.

Unless I had a friend over and I wanted to show off.

One day when I was about three, my childhood friends Amanda and Chad were over, and Chad and I discovered how much fun it was to harass Rocky.

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We chased him around the house for the entire morning. He would try to hide from us, but wherever he went, we would find him.

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Rocky would jump on top of the counter thinking it was too tall for us to be able to reach him, but we would get him.

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He would hide under my parents bed to get away from us, but of course we would find him.

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We played this game for a couple of hours. We would find Rocky, rough him up a little bit, he would run away, we would find him again, and repeat. Rocky got progressively more annoyed. Eventually we became bored with the harass-the-cat game and went off to play by ourselves. Rocky continued hiding.

That afternoon, hours after the Rocky-harass-fest, my mom asked me if I could go down to the basement to get a can of apple juice out of the cold cellar for snack time.

No problem. I loved apple juice. I started to make my way down the stairs to the basement.

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But as I was going down the stairs, I slipped.

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I lost my footing and I fell the last three steps down to the basement floor, thumping very loudly the whole way.

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Rocky was still hiding from us, and his hiding spot of choice was the closet under the stairs. When Rocky heard me thumping on the stairs as I was falling, he assumed I was coming to get him. But Rocky had had enough and he was not going to take it. He decided to seek revenge.

Before I could get up, Rocky leaped out of the closet and onto my face.

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He scratched me, jumped off me, and ran away to hide again.

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Attacked.

He sliced me just under my nose with his front claw, all the way to my mouth. All I remember is lying on the basement floor while my mom’s best friend held a green J Cloth to my face to try and stop the bleeding. There was massive amounts of blood. Just blood everywhere.

I had to go to the emergency room, and in the end I needed to get three stitches.

Rocky lived on to have a long and amazing cat life. But he left his legacy on my face forever.

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It’s fairly faint, but it is there. Of course, this was my own fault for bothering Rocky so badly. He was really just trying to protect himself.

So the moral of this story is, don’t harass cats. They will try to claw your face off.

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And then I drew more stuff

As per Gracie’s request…

t-rex curling hair

I tried…

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Now that’s just silly.

And drawing stuff is time consuming. I really enjoy it and wish I could do it all day long, but sadly I cannot. I think I’m just going to pepper your requests in once a week or so with my regular posts. I’ll get ’em done, not to worry!

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They’re Magically Delicious

This story is dedicated to my mom, as it is her favourite story about me and she asked me recently why I haven’t told it yet. So heeeeere it is!

When I was just a little kitty, my very favourite cereal in the entire world was Lucky Charms.

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So magically delicious. Like every child I of course looooved the marshmallows. Could not get enough. I could eat an entire bowl of just the marshmallows, easily.

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Whenever I would eat my bowl of Lucky Charms for breakfast I would eat all the boring oat pieces first and then save all the little marshmallows for last. I still do this with my dinner plates: eat the stuff that isn’t my favourite first so then the good things are all saved for last. It’s a good eating method. I recommend it. This way your favourite thing is the very last taste in your mouth.

One day when I was about three or four, my mom bought a giant family-sized box of Lucky Charms. She brought it home from the grocery store and as soon as she took it out of the bag I was all over it.

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My mom noticed me admiring the box of deliciousness.

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And she decided that it probably wasn’t a good idea to just leave the box lying around, as I’d probably get into it.

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But I didn’t WANT them for breakfast tomorrow, I wanted them right NOW.

My mom thought that a good place to “hide” the Lucky Charms would be on top of the refrigerator, because I was just little, and wouldn’t be able to reach it.

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But when I want something that badly, I want it, and I WILL get it.

I stared at that box for the rest of the day. And as I was going to sleep that night, all I could think about were the Lucky Charms just sitting on the top of the fridge waiting for me. I had to have them.

So I woke up super early, before my parents, with the plan of acquiring that box of Lucky Charms. And actually I am not even sure how I woke up so early, but it’s possible that I didn’t sleep at all.

But anyway, I woke up super early (it was still dark), crept into the kitchen, and there they were.

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In the same spot my mom had left them the night before. Still too high for me to reach.

But I was a resourceful little minx. So I grabbed a chair from the kitchen table, quietly dragged it over to the fridge, and climbed up onto the counter.

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Almost…

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Success.

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The Lucky Charms and I were reunited.

I quickly (but quietly) put the chair back, took the box of Lucky Charms with me into my bedroom and shut the door. I was alone with my conquest. The Lucky Charms were all mine.

I immediately dumped the entire box onto my floor.

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And then I sat down next to the mound of Lucky Charms and got to work.

I meticulously separated the marshmallows from the boring oat pieces one by one. It took me ages, but I didn’t give up. I picked out every last colourful piece of marshmallow and set it aside. In the end I had a pile of oat pieces (which I discarded), and a perfect pile of just marshmallows.

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Which I then ate. I ate the entire pile of marshmallows.

In the morning my mom woke up a bit later than usual and thought it was weird that I wasn’t up and harassing her yet. It was very unlike me to be so quiet in my room so late. So she came in to check on me.

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And this is how she found me.

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As my mom tells me the story, and as she tells everyone she tells this story to, she found me eating the very last marshmallow in the box.

I spent the rest of the day alternating between laying around in a sugar coma and magically throwing up the rainbow.

But surprisingly I am not sick of Lucky Charms even now! And I still love those little marshmallows!

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Kid vs. Adult Christmas Morning

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I’m not saying that is ME this Christmas morning, I am just saying…

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