The Photobiography of Alice B. Toklas

People of the Internets, here’s the thing. Or, rather, here are the things. Whichever. So.

1. Circumstances persist.
2. Therefore, my hiatus also persists.
3. One great wish persists through circumstances and hiatus, and that is to have famous cats.
4. Therefore and thusly, I thought I’d take a brief break from my break to make a brief but incredibly important update.
About my cats.  Because this is the Internet, after all.

This is a story about Alice B. Toklas, and this story about Alice B. Toklas begins when Alice B. Toklas decided that she was tired of me petting her because I always, somehow, am doing it wrong.  She pushed my arm away to let me know just how wrongly I was doing it.

This is a story about Alice B. Toklas, and this story about Alice B. Toklas begins when Alice B. Toklas decided that she was tired of me petting her because I always, somehow, am doing it wrong. She pushed my arm away to let me know just how wrongly I was doing it.

However, she soon ran into a problem.

She decided to stay there, pushing my arm away, just in case I got any more ideas about doing anything else wrong. However, she soon ran into a problem.

A sleepy, sleepy problem.

A sleepy, sleepy problem.

And then she fell asleep, sitting up, pushing my arms away, snoring, and singing.

And then she fell asleep, sitting up, pushing my arms away, snoring, and singing.

Meanwhile, Gertrude Stein rolled around on the carpet in a fury of smouldering rage.

Meanwhile, Gertrude Stein rolled around on the carpet in a fury of planet-vaporizing rage.

The End.

Now we should all go read some of the leaked lyrics from Yeezus because, people, Kanye West raps about croissants like he means it.

 

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8 thoughts on “The Photobiography of Alice B. Toklas

  1. I love everything about this from the top list to the Alice glory to the Yeezus lyrics. You had to know I was listening right now. Not only does that man have a baby that will have a huge ass in the future, but he rhymed sarcophagus with esophagus on his last album. Done & done.

  2. Why thank you! And oh, Ginsberg is the best name for a cat! I took care of a feral cat who eventually started howling at my back door for food. I started calling him Ginsberg then, because of the howl. :)

  3. Oh my God, YEEZUS. I mean, YEEZUS. RIGHT?! The esophagus/sarcophagus rhyme was so amazing I had to stop and listen to it again, the first time. Then I realized what he was actually saying and was like, Oh. Goodness.

  4. Ginsberg the Howl-er. How appropriate! Our Ginsberg doesn’t howl, but she does have a very wide range of whines, including the one in which she just opens her mouth, pauses, and then emits a microscopic “eh”-noise, as though she were too weak from hunger to speak.

  5. Pingback: THE TURN DOWN FOR WHAT BLOG TOUR | Mr McClurg's Marginalia

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