That Faith No More cover of "Let's Lynch the Landlord"

Are you an Elvis Man? Are you looking for an ALL NEW way to listen to the Dead Kennedys? Does a lazy rockabilly polka sound like it might hit the spot right now? Have you been looking for That One Mike Patton Song To Like, to placate me when I start going "blah blah blah, his projects are so Twin Peaks, but with Danny DeVito just hanging out, blah blah blah."

Well! Problem SOLVED!!! And you're welcome.

*Tenant-on-landlord violence is not endorsed by this blog, or by any other blogs by this writer. In fact, this writer has an awesome landlord.

The Most Beautiful Cat Litter in the World

Pretty sure that I started this blog with an intention to review handy household commercial products, as much as anything else. So it's with great pride and pleasure that I take this special moment to honor a commercial product that's virtually become a member of my family.

I speak, of course, of Litter Purrfect's Multi-Cat Scoopable Cat Litter.

This product boasts "Odor Control," "Moisture Activated Lemongrass Essence," "Odor Eliminating Baking Soda," "Extra Hard Clumping Action," as well as purporting to weigh 35lbs, to be "Green 'n Clean," "All Natural," and "99% Dust Free."

I know what you must be thinking. That I made up the phrase "Extra Hard Clumping Action" for laughs. But you would be WRONG. It's a direct quote from the packaging. I only TYPED it for laughs.

Now, the title of this piece boasts that this cat litter is the most beautiful of it's kind. I wrote that because, at least for us, it genuinely, genuinely is.

My cats and I went through an extensive trial-and-error process, when searching for the correct litter for them. I asked friends, examined other cat boxes, and gave a number of different brands a shot at home.

The other grocery store brands didn't mask the "restroominess" of the poor cats' bathroom enough, and nobody was happy.

Specialty wooden pellet kinds--though biodegradable AND impressively antismell in a good friend's home--didn't have the right "paw feel," according to my cats. Leonard, in particular, just sat in front of his litter box, making various pleading facial expressions for three days straight before I finally caved and swapped the cool eco-pellets out for this stuff, his favorite stuff. Then he ran straight into the box and used the kitty toilet like he'd been trying really hard to avoid peeing for all three days. Secretly, I chided him. But I had to concede that my cats deserved to have a say in this particular arena.

It would probably be useful, at this part of this review, to name the brands that I'm comparing this cat litter to. I mean, even ONE brand would probably be helpful, right? Tough. Not today, guys.

Got that out of the way.

Okay. Well.

While the actual photograph of cat litter used below was taken in a glowing Viking afterlife, making the specifics a little hard to see, I'm happy to provide clarification.

The jug is springtime green. The jug also has a jaunty dark blue cap on. The jug has a handle on top, to help carry it. The jug is probably made out of plastic.

BONUS INFORMATION!!!! I buy this litter at Costco, which is good for... um... buying stuff. Not only does Costco's giantness, it's giantitude, it's ginormity, create a lovely hike from the first available parking spot to the front door, but even the hike from the cat litter to the checkout line provides a little bit of needed exercise. Just one of the perks of buying this cat litter! (It's also nice to shop somewhere famous for paying employees a decent wage and giving them good benefits. I'll vote with my dollar for that, because I can.)


So in sum:

1. Leonard the Cat will protest anything with a different texture.

2. I will protest anything else with the same texture, because my cats ruin the smell of 'em. Horrifically. This stuff's not a 100% sure thing. I mean, you can tell what went on a few minutes ago. But it effectively muffles what went on an hour or two ago, and that's a very good thing.

3. Hey, I almost forgot!!! Costco also has pizza by the slice, as long as you bring cash and you're in the mood for very general, American-style pizza. (Not to be confused with "specific" pizza. But in this case, "general" is perfectly fantastic enough for me, so no complaints here.)

4. The packaging says "Extra Hard Clumping Action." Huhuhuhuhuhuh.

5. Fuck, I'm bad and petty for going there right at the end of this piece, but what the Hell, right? I'll go ahead, get off-topic, and draw attention to this, too. (See the link below.) At least they quote Danzig's reaction which was, rightfully, that music's supposed to be the main topic of conversation when we're discussing musicians. Sorry, dude. Sorry, sorry, sorry for bringing it up:

http://stereogum.com/560502/danzig-defends-kitty-litter-pic/news/

There.

Stop! Kitten time.

Tired of reading? That's okay!

Here's the latest, breaking photojournalism documenting my cat, Leonard. As of this very moment, 11:29am PST, 4/6/2013, this is what he's doing:

Adoring. I adore adoring. Let's go with that.

Screw it, let's get meta. This blog is called "I Adore..." and I adore adoring. I adore getting to adore.

I have nothing but affection for affection. I feel friendly towards friendship. I feel enthusiastic about getting to feel enthusiastic. It's a treat to consider something a treat. I like liking, I love loving.

I love to... um... love... you, baby? Sorry, I got distracted. I found Donna Summer on Soul Train. (I didn't know that she spent eight years in Germany before hitting commercial success in the U.S.!)

But anyway.

I'm a fan of BEING a fan.

While it would be dangerously unscientific of me to claim that focusing on what cheers you up is EQUIVALENT to taking an antidepressant, I can comfortably claim that having a happy place to go to--cue that penguin cave from Fight Club--can help boost the efficacy of real antidepressants.

For that matter, even for those WITHOUT a neuroscientific doom cloud to outrun, having some blessings to count or favorite things to list can certainly keep your Julie Andrews feeling "Julie Andrews" enough to keep the Victor in your Victoria.

While everybody tends to inherit some stress coping techniques from their cultural background--some wanted and some unwanted--one of the best things that I picked up from my folks has been audience participation.

My mother is a fan's fan. She wrote Star Trek fan fiction in the 1960s. (I like to imagine that she was the original Mary Sue, being named Sue Mary, but I haven't had the guts to ask her for fear of having the dream ashed.) She is now a devoted participant in Heart's fan club, and a damn liberating sort of mother to have. (Did I misspell my mother's name to protect her privacy? Did you?)

My father, on the other hand, is less of a proper fan-fan, and more of a performer/audience amalgam. He lives every second of every day in the persona of a rebel adventurer, winning sailboat races around the globe and telling larger-than-life stories about hitchhiking in the late 1960s. But what this means to ME, is that being a daughter is a form of audience participation by default. I grew up being a great, participatory performer/audience THING, feeling loved and feeling loving.

As a result of this gift of an upbringing, I naturally and firmly believe that being a good audience is actually a fine and important responsibility, and a delicate performance art of it's own.

If you see live music, dance for fuck's sake!

If you see live theater, stay awake and react as actively as proper etiquette allows.

If someone's telling you a story, be present for it, and fucking react like a good audience.

Liked a joke? Laugh!

Be an active, active, ACTIVE listener!

Art is social. The audience is an absolutely essential component to completing the circuit.

So.

I am a natural-born audience participant. I can be a whole mosh pit. I can be a whole cult following. I can be a whole fan culture. I can be positively RIVETED.

And all because I genuinely LIKE saying thanks, particularly to whatever sincerely cheers me up, and helps divert attention away from emotional exhaustion.

I have the privilege of getting to help people with terminal illnesses for a living. I've even earned the special right, in my personal life, to get to help distract friends who are looking down the barrel of medical terror and death.

So you'd BEST believe that any booster shot of "I LOVE THIS STORY" or "FUCK, I LOVE THIS SONG" or "I really feel like that performance really 'got' me," helps make self-pity and despair seem petty.

...

Fuck, well NOW I just sound like Kevin Spacey in American Beauty. Wasn't really GOING for that.

Fuck it, though.

I actually, if memory serves, really loved that movie when it came out.

And I'm okay with that... Because?

I REALLY LIKE GETTING TO LIKE THINGS!!!!!!!!!!!

There.

To quote Maude from Harold and Maude, "Good! Now go out and love some more!"

(Classy. Always classy to end on a good quote.)