george raps on rap

Detroit's own Eminem has a smash hit in his new film, which grossed $20 million its opening weekend. George has this to say about that. Meanwhile, a guy from nearby Flint, Michigan, has a new film out awarded the Special Jury Prize at Cannes. That movie grossed grossed $190K as reported last Tuesday.

If you go see Eminem's movie, that's great. If you don't go see Michael Moore's movie, please don't talk to me about Eminem's movie. I might blow a fuse. That's never pretty.

blogger year books

So allied is a year old now. And today I thought of my latest quandry and wondered about how to solve it. I have the images I'm linking to stored hither and yond. Some on george's web server at earthlink, some on mine. Thinking of closing down my old site and just making my home on my blog. Save the $20 a month. Put a my files and a link to my write resources stuff up on George's site for safe keeping. Wondering, basically, how to best consolidate our online homes and save some money. And how NOT to lose all the work I've done.

Then I'm thinking, I wish there were a way, say once a year, when we bloggers could press a button or two and have a year's worth of posts (pictures and all) generated into a pdf or some other printable format, an e-book maybe, with posts listed chronoligically (instead of reverse chronologically), a kind of blogger yearbook. And we could share them with one another. Maybe even personalize them.

Maybe they'd be free. Maybe I'd pay up to $10 a piece for my favorite bloggers' year books. I know, the linking thing would be hard--what to do with the links we reference within our blogs once it's in print. Perhaps the yearbooks could have margins on the outside 2" of the page and the http addresses of the links referenced in each post could be printed in the margin. This way we could go look them up if we couldn't remember what the blogger was referencing. I bet I'd remember half of the links from my favorite posts by the folks I read all the time. Kind of scary considering I can't remember my phone number sometimes.

Think of what it would be like, ten years from now, looking back at our 2001 yearbooks. Think about what it would be like to have these once some of us pass over to the other side. Think of what it would be like NOT to have them.

Yes, I would like this functionality.

And soon.

won't take no excuses

Everyone I know needs to go see this movie right now.

And while you're at it, don't delay. Watch this Brief History of America clip from the movie. The film is pure genius.

Staying with the recent theme, props to Michael Moore.

gold nigga

George gives RageBoy a lesson in ebonics. These and other tips for the melanin challenged coming soon to a post near you.

kittens shit an awfully lot.

beyond the litterbox

Okay, Mr. Partington has warned me not to become a catblogger. I am taking his warning very seriously, since I don't know the consequences of actually becoming a cat blogger. Cat owners have always frightened me.

So, on to new and interesting topics.

Let's look at a traffic comparison among four popular bloggers--not to compare the number of visitors, per-se, but to compare the odd peaks and valleys of blogging in general, and, to point out some interesting traits among these four bloggers.

I found it interesting that the two men I investigated had fewer extreme days than the women did. Among our sample group, I also noted that two bloggers spiked high for seemingly no reason. Mind you, my sample size is very small. Especially since I'm one of the bloggers I am analyzing. Which really makes the whole study bogus, if not visually uninteresting:

Jeneane

Note the 5 distinct episodes of mania and the four lows during the period tracked. What does this mean? One interpretation is that the posts attracting so much interest were written directly following a trip to the mall during which I spent $300 I didn't have. Another interpretation is that the sharp drop in hits closely mirrors my menstrual cycle and planetary alignment for Geminis. Still another idea is that I wrote more good posts than bad ones--which in the end is all you can ask from a blogger, right?


Halley Suitt

Like me, Halley had four lows and five incredible highs over the last month, one of which really rocked the hit meter. With halley, this is not surprising. She is nothing if not up-up-up. More study is required to contrast Halley's pattern with my own. There may indeed be a cyclical hit pattern emerging among blog women as we begin to cycle together. Hasn't happened to me since college.


Tom Matrullo

Tom is a woman. See? He is cycling right along with Halley and I. What further proof does anyone need? Just like Halley, Tom had one doosey of a spike during the month. In fact, I have it from Halley that she never actually changed places with this guy, but that she got confused eating angel hair pasta with marinara sauce one night and spiraled herself into Tom's DNA. The new Halley/Tom will be commenting on a post near you soon. Jokes on us. Them. I mean, us.


Gary Turner

I am not sure what Gary's chart means. We who analyze this stuff for a living have never seen a pattern quite like this. We are pretty sure he is a bot. That would explain his fascination with chalk-chalking and making little tiny stickers that don't really stick to anything.

We hope you have found this analysis of traffic useful. Incidentally, if you turn each chart upside down, you will find your personal trip-tick to Disney World. Don't hurt yourselves. We would like to thank our proud sponsor, oh wait, we don't have one.

Never mind, I have a litterbox to scoop.

This Kitten...

Is truly amazing. More pictures to come. In just a day or so he/she has learned to eat canned food, drink on her own (not great yet--but starting), use the litter box, play, not be as afraid. All of you who said how amazing the process of taming a feral cat is were right. It is amazing.



As for whether or not we'll keep her/him, that's still up in the air. It's a big financial responsibility--one we would not ask any of you to share in. Really. We appreciate the offers to help, but keep your money or send some to Marek, because he seems to be in need and we haven't heard from him.

We are seriously batting around the idea of keeping this kitten. It's the absolute wrong time to have him/her. We have two dogs and a five-year old child with a mind of her own, financial constraints, allergy and asthma sufferers, and every other reason for it not to work. But so far so good. That's all I can say. We'll get the kitten to the vet in the next few days and will know more, but as the pictures show, he/she is thriving in his/her nice warm room.

We deeply appreciate the warmth and advice coming from all of you about this creature that shouldn't even be alive. And we appreciate your friendship as well, which reinforces all that is amazing about this place.

That having been said, I took your advice and put a paypal box on this site. The Amazon donation box wasn't working--I could never tell what was going on, if anything at all. If you enjoy my writing, or stories, or have learned something and feel like giving, that is always much appreciated.

As for the kitten, we'll do our best for him/her whether that means keeping it or finding an alternative. It's one day at a time here. We'll keep you posted.

Venture ventures out

...and under the bed.

Itty bitty kitty says, who will give me a home?

cat nap

George is on night duty. I'm going to sleep. The little kitty Venture finally chose what he would eat: the soft center part of Texas Toast (untoasted) soaked with KLM (or KML--i forget--it's late) milk replacement fed from my gloved hand through the slats in the hamper. That's after multiple bottle failure, wet canned food failure, syringe failure, every other kind of failure, and a whole lot of hissing and striking.

This little wilding now officially likes milk-soaked-white-toast mush off the tip of the fingers of a old worn work glove, where he can pretend he's nursing, but since he's got some tiny teeth already, he seems to be learning how to lick and grab once in a blue moon too. He misses his mama big time. But he's bonding with the glove, which is lying against the hamper now. He's asleep.

I've emailed two no-kill shelters (thanks everyone for alerting me to them). Cross fingers. Toes. This is not the time, place or decade for us to have the responsibility of this kitten. I'm sure there are cat people everywhere without inquisitive five year olds who would love this little guy/gal.

Screw the folks at Pet Smart, who after I took the time to explain this story and asked could they cut me a deal on the kitty milk and bottle, said no. Screw the same Pet Smart veterinary (Banfield) who when I called and said I had an abandoned wild kitten as big as my hand who needed help said no discounts on the office visit, no discount on the feline lukemia/aids test. And no appointments today. Screw my old vet, Bells Ferry Veterinary for telling me sorry, we can't help, we get this all the time, no spreading out payments, no discount on an office visit, and no time today. Then I see this on their website. Thanks for nothing.

And bless the webloggers.

Does this make me a cat blogger? Oh jeez. Say it isn't so.

Gotta get some sleep. Take it away Daddy.

Oh dear... we have him, now what?

Alright. We got him. He's okay--well, so to speak, doesn't look like the healthiest thing. He's in a hamper with a box top on as a lid. Sitting up here. Quiet, unless he's lashing out at us. He's good at that. We are NOT putting fingers or hands near him--I wore a good work glove when I finally picked him up by the scruff of his neck, wedged between one of George's amplifiers in the garage.

And here he is.

I think he's hungry, maybe dehydrated. What do we do? I tried one of Jenna's medicine syringes with warm water, with cool water, and tried a choped tiny piece of tuna. No go. He just blinks at it. Or if it gets too close, hisses and strikes. He's got crud in the corner of one eye.

Anyone know what/how to feed him tonight or what else to do? The net says to get a kitten bottle and milk replacement--anything I can try right this minute??

Tomorrow will tell if it's off to the Humane Society or the vet or what--if we make it that far with him. I'd sure like to get some nourishment in immediately.

Thanks for the wonderful advice so far--keep it coming.

sometimes you get picked.

Whenever nothing makes sense, something happens that makes less sense but connects things that would otherwise remain shattered. You remember the ferrel kitten I saw the other day at Jenna's school. How I scoured the place looking for that tinsy winsy thing, ran upon his mother in the woods, who promptly ran off with tinsy winsy's black sibling in tow?

The noise last night kept George up til 6 this morning. He couldn't figure it out. Some noise from the garage--maybe the neighbor's cat. It was a hellish rainy night, so he cracked the garage door open thinking whatever neighborhood cat wandered in, it would find its way out when the rain stopped.

This morning on our way out to the van for school, Jenna and I stopped. We heard a meow. Oh, it's probably Rudy from next door I told her. Still, I thought, that doesn't sound like Rudy. And off we went to school.

George mentioned the cat noise to me this afternoon. I heard it too, I tell him. So we go down to the garage. Meeew, meew.

It can't be.

No way.

How?

Like this:

Do you see her/him? George took the picture from underneath the minivan. A place kitty was obviously very familiar with. This kitten climbed up into the underbelly of our van, rode that way for 10+ miles, including my tour of the area looking for him, probably rode BACK to school in the afternoon to get Jenna, only to wind up in our garage.

Now he's run out from under the van--George almost had him but he slipped away. Folks, he doesn't look so healthy. The meows are getting fewer and farther between. We put out tuna but I'm not sure he's weaned yet. And a bowl of water. But he's just too timid.

PLEASE suggestions on how to find him in our garage which has approximately 1,000 hiding places for things as small as this. How do you woo a kitten out from hiding? All we want to do is for him to come out so we can take him to the vet. He usually answers my Meews when I talk to him. Now he's quiet.

Calling animal control in our neck of the woods is like calling Barney Fife to solve a murder. But we may have to. I don't know. Advice appreciated!!!

Happy Anniversary to ME.

It almost slipped by me. This blog is a year old today. Holy cow, it flew. But then, I look back, and my archives are testimony to the very reality that November 4, 2001 was a lifetime or more ago. To my fellow blog brothers and blog sisters who've touched me deeply over the past year--thanks for inersecting with me. I've found friends and cohorts here in Blogaria that I couldn't have imagined or conjured no matter how much play dough I used.

That's you guys:

George, Chris, David and Doc. George P., Ray, AKMA + family, Andrea, Craig, Anita, Shelley, Euen, Kent, Golby, Denise, Esta, Elaine, Dean, Marek, Tom, Jonathon, Frank, Stavros, Halley, Tom S., Gary, Mary Lu, and Sharon, to name just a few.

You are all amazing. Now onto year two. Hold my hand... ready, set, jump!

ferrel kittens and what to do

I dropped Jenna off at school this morning and I see this itsy-bitsy-teensy-weensy kitten curled up against the curb. The parkinglot was empty except for my van and this pathetic looking grey and white splotch of a kitten. It was breathing so hard. All wet from the rain and petrified. Looking up at us like "help!"

So I got a towel out of the car, figured I'd pick it up and take it to a vet. It couldn't have been more than three weeks old. It couldn't walk so well--but it sure could scamper, which is exactly what it did when I tried to pick it up with a towel... like a low-flying bat out of hell, it used whatever energy it had left to haul ass to a grassy area on the other side of the parkinglot. I looked all over the place but couldn't find the mystery kitty.

Then I hear another soft meew meew coming from back by the dumpster. First thought--oh shit--someone's dropped a bag of kittens in the dumpster. Thank goodness, no. It wasn't that. Just beyond the dumpster there are woods--the really gross kind of woods that remain in those "in between" areas between highways and plazas. This particular area is very high traffic, but there are still some dumpy woods between the strip malls--you get the picture.

SO, I look down into this weedy wooded garbagy area, and I see what is a carbon copy of the itsy bitsy kitten all grown up (i.e. mama cat) with another little tinsy winsy black kitten sitting by her. She's obviously wild--takes one look at me with those no-owner cat eyes of terror and takes off. Little black kitty makes his way after her, tripping as he goes.

But I never did find the pathetic little parking lot kitty again. I waited around for a half hour, walked the length of the grass. Don't know where that sad thing went.

So here's the question... do I:

-blog it and forget it? leave ferrel cats be?

-take a bag of cat food when I go back this afternoon to get jenna, open it, and toss it down into the woods where they must be living to help mama cat out a little bit--meals on wheels?

-scour the woods until I find the sad little kitten and take it to the vet (and then what?)?

I know next to nothing about cats. George and I had one for several years, but she was an easy keeper and only came in to say hello, eat, or sleep. I certainly don't know anything about wild ones, except not to get bit.

Come on cat bloggers--leave me some pointers.