Category Archives: Uncategorized

The Tuesday Troll: MEET AMANDA SMITH

Hey y’all – sorry about not doing a Monday book yesterday, but the last one I read, I didn’t like, and we only do books we like here.

But I do have something fun for you today. You know that whole “Russian troll” thing? Meet AMANDA SMITH, our very own Slovakian.

Amanda sent a very strange comment to be approved after my Punk blog on Sunday–which if I do say so myself was one of the cuter ones.

Here is what Amanda sent:

If you have trouble reading that, it says

the second wave is starting and in a pandemic it is usually the 2nd wave that kills the majority of people. You baby boomers are all going to die of corona virus and finally the world will be able to make progress when you boomers are all dead

So first, how interesting and factually inaccurate. Second waves aren’t the lethal ones. I’m not a Baby Boomer. I’m a Gen X.

Second, Amanda does this a lot. On March 27, she targeted a blog called The Summer years, saying:

You boomers are shutting down the entire economy because you’re afraid of a flu. Seriously, can you boomers kill yourselves? You are the most selfish generation to ever exist. You don’t give a shit about climate change, why should we young people give a shit if you get sick and die of some virus? I HOPE the virus gets much stronger and kills you all.

Third, Amanda doesn’t exist, at least not as Amanda. This is our girl:

Welcome, Tuesday Troll!!

So now you know. They’re everywhere, and they want us at each other’s throats. Silly, silly people fall for this crap. The rest of us laugh, say a prayer for whoever has to make a living doing things like this, and enjoy writing a blog about it. (Thank you Jen Cole for finding “Amanda” so quickly!)

I modestly like to think I rate a Russian troll (Slovakia is just where the pingback comes from) because of my forthcoming book COVID Conspiracies: QAnon, 5G, The New World Order and other Viral Ideas. But then, one of the leading attractions of a conspiracy theory is its empowering of victimization by feeling important enough to persecute, so….

Stay safe, be good to each other, and don’t believe everything you read, y’all. (I did a translation of English to Slovakian of “y’all.” It is “y’all.” So now we know…)

Here’s a link to that other blog. If you see Amanda in other places, tell them hi from us!


Filed under folklore and ethnography, humor, Life reflections, Uncategorized

Punk and the Pan of Denim

Hi, I’m Punk. I’m the newest kid at Chez Cats here, and I have a few observations to make.

I was sick when I got here. Had a cough that wouldn’t go away, sneezing all the time, kinda hard to breathe. The staff here got me a shot. It hurt, but I started feeling better right away. Then I had to take this nasty white stuff for about a week. They hid it in tuna. Which was kinda manipulative, because, hey, tuna. But you know, here I am, healthy and happy, so all’s well that ends well.

I do sniff my tuna with more suspicion these days, and wouldn’tcha know it, we don’t get tuna nearly so often. The other cats here, they keep asking if I could fake some sniffles or something just so we could have it again, but I really didn’t like the white stuff.

Now, speaking of illnesses, according to the other cats here, the staff didn’t used to work 24/7. One of them, the female, was gone quite a lot, and the male was off at least one day a week. But there’s this thing happening in the human world. They keep talking about a pan full of denim? That sounds tragic to me. Pans are for food. Denim is for scratching. Mix the two up and you’re going to have some confused, angry kitties.

So far I haven’t seen this denim platter served up, so, whatever. The meals continue regular, which is more than I saw in my previous two years of life, let me tell you. Mom abandoned us at an early age, and the people in the trailer under which I was squatting, well, they weren’t forthcoming with tuna. A lot of pasta scraps. If I never eat tomato sauce again in my life, I’m good with that.

This pan of denim, though, I guess it’s got a lot of people rattled. Sometimes the staff here get to talking, and you can tell they’re nervous. That’s when I pull out my full range of charming tricks. You think I survived on pasta leftovers alone? I have a street cuteness routine that will knock your socks off.

So when they start talking scary, I do the ol’ mincing along routine. I can strut, baby, believe me. And after they notice me mincing around their legs, I do the feather boa tail floof. You know the one: tail up, slow rub, entwined so your front meets your back. Sometimes, if I need to pull out all the stops, I give my own tail a tiny wee bite, like I don’t know if I’m coming or going. They love that. Makes ’em laugh every time.

Next we do fur therapy. They reach down and rub, and believe you me I spend a LOT of time to make myself this beautiful. They love my silky long fur, and if I regret their fingers tangling up what it’s taken me hours to get just right, well, do I say anything? I do not. I just head to a corner and set it back in place. You should see the amount of product I run through. Good thing we cats make our own gel.

If they’re still not cheered up, for the piece de resistance, I’ll do the chair jump. I have perfected the art of pretzel sleeping: front half one way, back half another. And while a lady never snores, I do have this little musical routine I do, a kind of puff, puff, puff, puff up the scale, and then crescendo down with a small WHEEEEEE. I can hear them killing themselves laughing in the next room. Sometimes I open one eye to check on ’em. That never fails.

All part of the job. Eventually this denim thing will wear out, and pans will once again be full of tuna. Until then, gotcher back, staffers.


Filed under Uncategorized