I’m shocked—SHOCKED!

Gee, whodathunk it?

Vegetarians have around twice as many depressive episodes as meat-eaters, according to a new study.

The study, based on survey data from Brazil, chimes with earlier research that found higher rates of depression among those who forgo meat. However, the new study suggests that this link exists independent of nutritional intake.

Well, I mean, DUH. Who wouldn’t be depressed? I did the vegetarian thing back in the 80s myself for about a year or so, until it hit me like a bolt out of the blue that life is just too damned short to squander it wholly bereft of wondrous blessings like bacon, steak, Chicago hot dogs, cheeseburgers.

The depressed vegetarian, in this case, is not necessarily wrong to think this way.

I repeat: DUH. Given the well-known congruence between vegetarian/veganism and Leftard political beliefs, let the stupid, miserable fucks have it, I say—all they want of it, plus some. As the old bumpersticker mocking PETA types used to say:

Stands for People Eating Tasty Animals

(Via Insty)


Dusty in here, ain’t it?

If this one doesn’t have you puddling up by the end, I’ll thank you to just kindly keep your lamentable dearth of even the smallest trace of humanity to yourself, aiight? Thenk yew.

The man and woman in this vid are truly angels in human shape, far as I’m concerned, an assertion with which I will brook no dissent. Via MisHum, dedicated to Bill, who I know will love it as much as I do myself.

Moar Maine Coon!

As part of a discussion about the coolest housecats in the world with my friend Don, he confessed to never having seen one, even in a photo. Naturally, I busied myself right away with a Startpage image search, wherein I caught some really good ‘uns.

Entry #1 in the CF Biggest Orange Belly contest

Her sciatica is gonna give her fits tomorrow

This is how Resting Bitch Face usually presents in the Maine Coon Cat

I think we may have found our winner in the B-O-B contest

Cozy Cat
How total contentment usually presents in the Maine Coon Cat


Gimme shelter

I’ve always wanted a Maine Coon Cat, which as far as I’m concerned are among the verymost way-cool pets one can possibly have. I’ve actually known a few, actually, which served as confirmation for my fondness for them. Unfortunately, it’s a virtual certainty that I’ll never have one, for reasons simultaneously both varied and incontestable. So I’ve tried to ease the heartache by looking at Maine Coon-oriented websites now and then, even going so far as to sign up for the email list of two of the better ones.

Today, I found this urgent missive in Ye Aulde Inboxxe:

Mike — Support Mom’s favorite breed — A card or engraved pet gift will be sent directly to your gift recipient for Mother’s Day:




Select ‘Instant Gift’ when donating to send an instant email gift today. Cards and engraved pet gifts requested today may not deliver until Monday. Donation acknowledgment gifts are also available for other occasions including birthdays, anniversaries, and memorials.

Mom’s favorite breed, hell. My mom just spent a few weeks staying at my cousin Karen’s place, whose husband recently died after having spent MONTHS at his brother’s bedside in an Arizona hospital, attempting to comfort him any way he could while he slowly died from cancer. The killer note is that, the morning after the night Karen’s husband had gotten back home, he keeled over on the kitchen floor, dead from a sudden heart attack.

Point being, Karen has two Maine Coons in temporary residence at her place. My mom loves ’em all to pieces, but as is typical of the breed, they’re both inclined to curl up on the nearest available lap waiting for some love to be thrown their way. After a short petting session, my mom’s bony 84 year old legs begin to ache and stiffen, requiring her to shoo the economy-sized fluffballs off and away, then painfully climb to her benumbed feet and do the Biden zombie-shuffle around the house until blood flow and sensation in her legs is fully restored.

By an amazing coincidence, I had a long conversation about all that with my mom just last night, then received the above Maine Coon email this morning. I’ll take this curious sequence of events as a directive from God Himself that I must post something on Maine Coons right away, lest I find myself cast into Outer Darkness to be punctured with tiny pitchforks wielded by proportionately diminutive Satans hanging from my corporeal being in Divine retribution. Being acutely reluctant to directly defy a personal command sent to me from Heaven above, I now fulfill my quest with a few lovely Maine Coon pitchers. We’ll begin with a map of US states with Maine Coons available for adoption, which I find astounding:

Sad map
So few of them? SRSLY?

Tortoiseshell Xena having her din-din, wants to know what the hell you’re looking at

Sluggo III
Orange tabby Punkin Boy is just too fluffy for words

Pocket-sized kitten is just too, too sweet

A Maine Coon Tux-cat? Reminds me of my own Fuzzle Wuzzle, a short-hair Tuxie herself with personality and smarts to burn

Hunter and Hazel
Playful siblings Hunter and Hazel

It seems incredible that I didn’t establish a “Critters” category years ago. But thats aiight, I gots one now.


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