My missus will be sad
The young Rowdy Yates in Rawhide, always had a fight as to who was going to be him when we played cowboys and Indians.
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Hire a goat for your next Zoom meeting
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Might do that with the martial arts class zoom thing 
They won’t be expecting that
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It appears that we might actually just have done that…
Looking at the apps, flight radar and vessel finder, there appears to be a huge increase in air traffic from just over a week ago. The sea lanes are just as busy as usual. North America internal flights have always been running as normal and exceed European numbers. With all this travel, how the buggery are we going to reduce the transmission of coronavirus. Travellers initially spread the virus and now things are heading slowly back towards what they were. Looks like a second wave is inevitable with travel and a relaxation of lockdown.
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Some people will, in public, and without-a-care-in-the-World, assert that domestic cats are intelligent.
This normally takes place on social media, which were invented for stupid people to make idiot assertions unchallenged by thought or fact.
Assertions of feline intelligence are usually supported by carefully-researched and enlightening observations such as “Fluffy remembered to breathe for the 150,000th consecutive time today!” or “Mr Wiggles obeyed millions of years of instinct and killed a small, defenceless life-form today!”
This is usually followed by the internet equivalent of mutually-supportive primate grooming behaviours.
Our two cats are roughly 11 years old now.
They can just about manage to feed themselves from stationary containers containing pre-processed foodstuffs that require little or no chewing, and then go and shit in a box. Or on a gravel path, when it’s not nesting season.
Occasionally they forget where the cat ends and the box begins and so unload slightly processed cat feedstuffs onto the floor next to the box.
But what they unfailingly do post-defecation is to spend up to 20 minutes scratching at the floor next to the box in a vain, confused and futile attempt to bury the latest pile of faeces sat proudly atop the litter in the tray nearby.
Given that they shit twice a day, but are incarcerated only for about half of every year, that’s approximately 8000 failed attempts to bury their turds without ever learning that they need to address themselves to both turd and litter - rather than a random patch of floor nearby - or the results are stubbornly-unburied turds.
Efforts applied to the gravel path yield little better results judging by the copious little piles of offerings to the gods of Oh Fuck What Have I Trodden In Now?! gaily twinkling hither-and-yon across its surface…
tl;dr - cats are properly thick cunts
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They have managed to convince a higher (hahaha) lifeform to provide them with free food and lodgings, a safe place to sleep and to dispose of said shit in a box, for those 11 years. At virtually no effort on their part
Who’s stupid?
(Yes, we have a cat too…)
This tedious trope is also nonsense. Cats took no conscious part in convincing broody human females to adopt hairy child-substitutes in an attempt to silence the screaming of their thwarted hormones.
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…plus Meh!
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Who empties the litter tray? 
Indeed.
(breath)
Have you ever looked at the amount of piss on the floor around the loo after a bake off? 
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Some of the comments are priceless…
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Looks like @TMC has fixed Twitter links.
Bravo! 
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I’m still on tablets after a post bakeoff blacklighting session 12 years ago… 
FFS - ceilings are 15’ high in places…!
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