Today, I feel a little tired. I'm not in the mood for convincing anybody of anything. Neither challenging nor being challenged. That will change soon, I'm sure. But check this out:
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I just discovered that I have the ability to download any picture conceivable for a staff photo I.D. at a large ministry I belong to. Who in their right mind would allow the masses to hold such power in their hands?!! The picture on the left is the one I wanted to use. (insert mad-scientist laugh here) No, it's not me, but it can represent me.
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Instead, I used a real picture from a short-term missions trip where I was holding an anaconda. Or maybe the anaconda was holding me. I will leave that picture up unless we are given other parameters for the photo submissions.
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MySpace turns my stomach. But as much as I hate it, I went ahead and set up an account a few months ago, 'cause I thought it might be useful or strategic or important in some way, but over there, I don't even use my real picture. (The one on my blogger profile is really me.) If you don't despise MySpace to the point of boycotting it, you can see the pretend me at http://profile.myspace.com/craver_vii
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Incidentally, the kitten in this photo was unharmed. There's a ticklish spot on his tail and he's laughing hysterically. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
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6 comments:
That picture is awesome. I don't think Jazzycat would like it though.
myspace...ugh...
So, in this fake photo, were you the cat or the kid?
Takin' a break and having a kit-cat? :)
"myspace...ugh..." My sentiments exactly. Even though I have one myself. Still....
Jazzy would hiss but since she thinks everyone loves her, she would get over it.
W.H. (Jazzy's humble servant)
I'll show that picture to my own cat the next time it jumps up on the table or counter. And yes, I did refer to my animal as it.
We got this cat from another family. They had named it "Sweetie." We quickly changed the name to "Nala," the queen lioness from Disney's Lion King.
A year later we moved to the burbs, and Mrs. Craver took the she-cat to the vet and he looked at the cat, then at the paperwork, then at my wife, and then back at the cat again. Then he said, "Um Ma'am... You know this if a boy cat, right?
The cat was so embarrased about its sudden identity crisis, he couldn't look at us straight in the eyes for the next month or two. It took us that long to decide whether we wanted to rename it. We stuck with the name we had already given it. Every time we talk about gender, we get it confused, so it's officially neither he or she, but it. 'Tay?
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