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Cake day: March 3rd, 2024

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  • DancingBear@midwest.socialtocats@lemmy.worldA lifehack
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    13 days ago

    Our cats always have food available… but the youngest will meow at you if you walk by her feeding area, wanting you to watch her have a few bites… she has a different way of meowing to let us know she is actually out of food, but you have to watch her eat a bite of food every time you walk by the feeding area…

    The older cat doesn’t give a fuck, but she is more friendly in general and will immediately jump in your lap if you sit on the couch.












  • The details of my life are quite inconsequential, but since you asked…

    Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical, summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we’d make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum, it’s breathtaking, I suggest you try it.