So . . .the other day Sean was playing street music and this well intentioned but rather clueless man tipped him with a half-eaten roasted chicken. Gross. And yet, just the night before we had been joking about what would happen if we simply bought kitty mao a chicken and let her go at it, let her be the wild, carniverous cougar that she thinks she is.

Turns out, she's not really a wild, carniverous cougar. She can barely do anything but lick the nasty chicken carcass, occasionally managing to nudge off a small bite that she can actually swallow. It's all a little funny and a lot disgusting.

Now, I'm heading off down the street to visit Sean at his post where he is playing music on this sunny day. Maybe somebody will tip him with a half-eaten cake and I will get to pretend that I'm a sixteen year old with crazy metabolism who can devour half a cake in the blink of an eye. And when it turns out that I'm not actually any of those things I will take the fat cat on my fat lap and we will console each other for having such skewed self perceptions.