Amy Schumer is way funny

She is way funny and she looked gorgeous at the Golden Globes. That girl has got great timing.

Moving onward.

The kitty-cat you see to your left is my daughter’s cat, Ollie. He is very cute and very destructive and very aggressive with my cat, who is much older, and who is named Scarlet. Scarlet tolerates being petted, but she will suddenly reach a point where she will nip you if you persist in this absurd display of affection.

Now, my lovely daughter, who is a young woman and attending college and living at home, bemoaned the fact that Scarlet, my partially feral cat, does not like to be picked up and carried around in a loving and affectionate manner, and my daughter very much wanted a cat that would not only allow her to pick it up and carry it around in a loving and affectionate manner, but a cat that wanted to be picked up and carried around in a loving and affectionate manner.

And Ollie is the cat. He is, quite frankly, the man.

The first thing my daughter does when she gets home is she picks Ollie up and carries him around in a loving and affectionate manner, and Ollie purrs and purrs.

And he is an ornery little son-of-a-gun, but he does have redeeming qualities. He is an excellent mouser; ever since Ollie arrived, the body count has been piling up. He left a dead mouse in my office and I stepped on said mouse one day while escorting a client into my office. On another occasion, he left a dead mouse by my husband’s chair in the kitchen.

You may think I am a poor housekeeper, in that apparently I can’t seem to control the rodent situation in my home, and you would be correct. I really do try to keep my Victorian-era-built house clean, but it’s a difficult task, and I do not have the time–and do not make the time–to keep my house spotless.

I can either run my law practice, write, cook, vacuum the family room upon occasion, and take care of my family, or I can clean my house.

Guess which choice I made?

More on Ollie tomorrow.

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