In the future a douchebag family will name their kid Tyler-Connor Hunter-Dylan.
A fun game I play: When I’m in a very crowded place with lots of families (Disneyland and such) I like to randomly shout out “Tyler!” “Connor!” “Hunter!” or “Dylan!” just to see how many people turn to look, thinking that I’m calling them.
[c] 2009 Russ of America
I don’t know what research they’ve done on their own when I’m not around, but I’m fairly certain my cats have no idea what my name is. How could they? We’ve never been formally introduced and we’ve never sat down to have a decent conversation. We’re just roommates. Roommates who sleep together.
I’m pretty sure they just think of me as “that big beige cat” or “that guy” or “the big cat” or something simple. They’re not too bright. A few minutes ago one of them was licking the carpet where he puked two days ago. Yes, I cleaned it. With chemicals, too. But he was still licking at it as though it were fish jerky impregnated carpet. Cats are stupid.
[c] 2009 Russ of America
