Every time John Scalzi posts a pic of his cat Ghlaghghee on Whatever, I have to double check that my cat is still here. It's like they're freaking twins, although I think Scalzi's cat has slightly fatter feet (no offense, Ghlaghghee):
Yes, that's a box he's laying on. He seems to think it's comfortable.
He has beautiful blue eyes, even though you can't see them because his eyes are narrowed to slits, as in every picture I take of him. I've tried every single setting on the camera, and still every single picture turns out like this. Not to mention the slick way he decides to groom his nether regions every time I pick up the camera.
The cat knows, people. He knows what I'm up to, and he's not having any of it.
UPDATE: While I'm posting cat pictures....
My sister's cat, Me (yes, that's the cat's name), had her kittens yesterday. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go do something to counteract the huge spike in blood sugar caused by all this cuteness.
If you don't feel that you are possibly on the edge of humiliating yourself, of losing control of the whole thing, then possibly what you are doing isn't very vital. If you don't feel like you are writing somewhat over your head, why do it? If you don't have some doubt of your authority to tell this story, then you are not trying to tell enough. --John Irving