Martha Stewart matches have been recalled because they explode. Of course, I never bought any, and now you can't :P
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The Yankees have decided that they're no longer going to sell Crackerjack at their ballpark. I don't really like baseball, nor do I consume vast amounts of Crackerjack, but this still annoys me, for some reason. I used to get taken to the ballgame on a fairly regular basis as a child, and I always ate Crackerjack there, just because.
It's always interested me that at the Speedway, when you go for the Five Hundred you get normal racetrack food - hotdogs, hamburgers, nachoes, etc. When you go for the Formula One race, they've got stuff like lobster and spinach wraps.
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I've been assigned a British movie rating...
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And more Qat Tales for Blither...
I buy soft toys for Flaster. This is because he has a habit of putting them in my bed while I'm asleep. It's bad enough rolling over and getting a wooly stuffed mouse in the ribs - I don't want spiky balls or the like in my bed.
He still beats Cat from Hell in this regard, as she used to bring me dead mice while I slept. I recall one occasion where I woke up disgusted because I thought I'd drooled on the pillow, only to find that the cold wet thing pressed against my cheek was a mangled mouse. Cat from Hell was sitting there looking pleased with herself, of course, waiting for me to wake up and find my present.
I've eaten more than one breakfast with a mouse corpse on the edge of my plate, waiting for the cat to be distracted so I could toss it into the disposal while she wasn't looking.
When I was maybe ten or so, there was a streetlight near our house where crickets would gather. It was one of the old blue-green mercury lights, and on summer nights that dim pool of light would just be swarming with crickets, literally thousands of them. Chairman Meow was just a kitten at the time, and we'd go out there so he could eat crickets. He'd spend half an hour or so crunching up crickets before he got full. He grew up to be a huge, 20-pound cat, not at all fat, but just plain big. I always sort of thought it was from all the crickets that he ate as a kitten.
Chairman Meow was a good cat, but not especially bright. He loved Lipton's instant chicken soup - any time I made that, he had to have some. As soon as I started making it, before it was even ready to eat, he'd begin crying because he didn't have any soup. The whole time his portion was cooling, he'd be sitting there fussing. Once I gave him some soup that was still hot, thinking that he'd learn something from that. He lapped at it, then howled because it was too hot, then lapped s'more, and howled s'more. This went on for a minute or so before I took the soup away from him to let it cool. Then Chairman Meow started crying again because now he didn't have any soup.
Flaster's not much of a cat for eating leftovers and such. Now and again he'll clean the leftovers off a plate, especially if it's cheese sauce or tomato sauce, but mostly he sticks to his cat food.
Cat from Hell, on the other hoof, eats just about anything that she can get ahold of. She has a strange (for a cat) passion for peas. My mother found out the hard way that you can't leave your peas unguarded while the cat is around. She also likes hot peppers.
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