Our Cat Died

Sadly, our seven-year-old Bengal named Tesla died today. A week and a half ago, he seemed to rally a bit with the CBD oil, but then he took a turn for the worse. All the tests were inconclusive – maybe kidney, maybe malabsorption syndrome, maybe a cytokine storm.

We spent over a thousand dollars – trying Prednisone and pancreatic enzymes, but his time was up. We sent him over the rainbow bridge to cat heaven.

He was an unusual cat, as all cats are. We called him The Cheetah. He was a good eater and a good traveller. He loved going to the cabin. We used to joke that we bought it for him.

We will process the grief by playing our three hour Sad Songs iTunes mix and just sit together and cry our eyes out, feeling like the loss will kill us. But it won’t because loss is a part of life, and eventually we will recover and move on with the happy memories of being blessed with the opportunity to love a beautiful cat.

In the meantime, we will shower love and attention on our remaining cat Gwaihir the Egyptian Mau.

All of you who have loved and lost will understand.

Our Cat Just Died

That was the title of a blog post I wrote for Tuesday July 14, 2020. We had an in-home euthanasia appointment booked for our very sick Bengal cat (who we have always referred to as the cheetah.)

But I cancelled it. I happened to phone an independent pet food store that I shop at for an unrelated enquiry. I told her about poor Telsa, and she asked me if we had tried CBD oil. We had not, but I did have some on hand, so we decided to try it a few days before the ‘cat goes to heaven’ appointment.

Amazingly, after months of diarrhea, the cat had a normal bowel movement. And then the next day, he seemed better again. He was quite zonked out – I think the CBD we gave him has THC.

So we decided to give the cat at least a week on the CBD oil before we rescheduled the appointment. I bought a few different versions that do not have THC.

He is still with us, although he is still quite skinny and not what you would call a robust cat. But he is eating, and grooming, and using the litter box, and he can climb the stairs.

I weigh him once a week to check his progress. I don’t think he is out of the woods, and if his weight declines, it will clearly be a bad sign. But if the CBD oil can give him a few weeks or months of life with us, it is worth it. We do love the cheetah.

I Love Big Brother

It has always been my contention that governments recruit from asylums for the criminally insane.

Examples abound, but you really don’t have to look much further than how they “improve” the transportation services.

Take Bus Only lanes as one example. They make a lot of sense. Restrict a lane for a vehicle that comes along every hour or so, in areas where population expansion is encouraged. All the drivers of cars will be driven mad.

And I love the posters in the bus shelters in Toronto that say to Support Local Business to get the economy moving again. Of course they are referring to the local businesses that are currently shut down for months due to the Scamdemic.

And you vote for these psychopaths. God help us.

I Don’t Usually Keep Things

I had a wonderful friend who died a few years ago from cancer. She was only in her forties, and it was really awful, and I miss her a lot.

But I’m thinking about it now and I have a dilemma.

Do I keep my clothes that are now too small, as a cancer wardrobe, or do I donate them? Because of stress eating from the Covid LIErus, I have gained weight. If I get a wasting disease, I will need something that fits, and all of these clothes are really nice – a Burberry skirt bought at a Buffalo outlet mall, and several other things that might come in handy if I lose forty pounds from cells that go haywire. Like many others in her situation, my friend lost a lot of weight when her cells went crazy and attacked her immune system.

I was with her for 10 minutes, in the palliative care unit, 12 hours before she died. Weirdly, it was the same room her dad was in a few years earlier when he died. I have a book written by palliative nurses who say that you should pay attention to the final things that a dying person says. My friend said “Is there going to be a party”, and “I’m sorry”. Maybe she was apologizing for something she felt guilt about and perhaps she was anticipating a reunion in heaven since she was a Bible believing Christian.

We will never know.

Hospital beds should be double, so you can lie with the dying and touch them with your whole body. Let them drape their arm across your chest and rest their head on your shoulder. It would make passing from this life so much kinder.

No Forgiveness For You

In the old days, before living on this planet became an endless episode of The Twilight Zone combined with a Franz Kafka novel, you could be forgiven for doing something that someone else didn’t like.

Not anymore.

Now people are routinely fired or de-platformed or creatively destroyed economically for having a different opinion. You used to be able to apologize and then the offended party would forgive you, and that would be the end of it. But now, in the new tolerant politically correct world, you must be destroyed.

Here is the latest list.

I suppose if someone wanted to build an authoritarian dystopia with total domination over the individual, this could not be accomplished with differing opinions and views floating around freely. That would be dangerous and you need to protect yourself. Free speech must be redefined to mean speech you agree with.

I fear society is moving from brainwashed to brain dead.

“Never argue with stupid people. They will drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience.”

Mark Twain

Insanity is The New Normal

I wish I could claim this as an original thought, but I found it on my new favourite financial website:


Like him, I typically don’t subscribe to mainstream thought, and I love his sarcastic “everyone is a moron” narrative, with brilliant phrases like:

“The Dow Jones Illusional Average.”

“Mass bullsh*t has substituted for everything real.”

“It’s hard to feel normal when you have to prep for surgery in order to go shopping.”

“This is an economic depression in which people tell themselves it’s a pandemic.”

So in keeping with the title of this blog, let’s sum up 2020 so far, shall we:

Biblical locust plagues in East Africa, India and Iran.

Heatwaves in the Arctic Circle.

Real economy destroyed, stock markets higher.

Deregulation for the Banksters! “The changes, set to take effect on Oct. 1, will make it easier for big banks to devote more of their resources to investments in venture capital funds and other vehicles—the kind of risky speculation that sent the entire U.S. financial system into a tailspin in 2008.”

5G is being rolled out and nobody knows how or if it will affect insects, birds, trees, and other mammals including us.

Plandemic with a totally incoherent narrative.

Threat of negative interest rates.

Twitter censored a video by Project Veritas warning about TECH CENSORSHIP.

Real risk of being fired for having a different opinion.

It hasn’t rained much, if you haven’t noticed.

Judgement is in the air.

Nobody notices. Nobody cares.

Have a nice day.

Do You Look Like Someone Famous?

The odd thing about rockstars is that you see them on stage as demigods, but Tony Iommi could show up at your house in clothing from Marks Work Wearhouse, get out of a plumbing van, and you would never suspect he’s in Black Sabbath.

Classical musicians too. YoYoMa refreshing the salad bar at Mandarin. You would never notice.

Anonymity is unavailable to those born with extreme features. Steve Buscemi, Angelina Jolie and Keith Richards could never work behind the counter at McDonald’s. But actress Dianne Weist and John Paul Jones from Led Zepplin probably could.

The recently minted millions of the real virus victims – the unemployed – will be fighting over the few existing jobs. I wonder if the beautiful or the plain-featured will get the second interview.

If You Love Movies

You will like this montage.

Thanks to a friend for sending it in.


Aunty Em Syndrome

She wanted so badly to tell Miss Gulch what she really thought of her, but couldn’t bring herself to do it.

I can relate.

Here are a few things that have swirled in my head over the years about people who resemble Grendel:

"You emotionless, black hearted, greedy, evil prick."
Me - "Only the good die young."
Them - "What do you mean by that?"
Me - "That you're alive and my mom is dead."
"You were obviously suffering from decision fatigue when you chose your wife."
"You are a bastard, and you work for the antichrist, and you decorate with demons."
Them - "What effing charm school did you go to?"
Me - "I didn't need to go to charm school. That's for snakes like you."
"The more you drink, the more your monologues are marathons of hari kari inducing boredom."
"If stupidity was a disease, you would have been dead 60 years ago."
"You're not a family. You're an immune system suppressant."

At funerals, I never understand when people say that the deceased “never had a bad word to say about anybody.” I’ve never met anyone who was deserving of endless praise. I guess all the anger towards the idiots those people met in life just got buried into passive-aggressive rage. So nice on the outside, but so toxic within from unexpressed anger.

We are all products of our mental circuitry. Too bad some people didn’t get better electricians.

Nero Fiddled

According to legend, while Rome was burning Emperor Nero played the fiddle. But learning how to play the fiddle is time-consuming, expensive, and difficult.

With time on your hands, while the world burns during Covid-19(84) perhaps you would like to learn a few new dance moves in these 3 minute Youtube videos. Guaranteed to put a smile on your face, and it’s fun for the whole family.

Break the rules. Dance with your friends and The Fitness Marshall!


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