I saw a puppy shaking water off himself after his bath this morning

…………….. wish I could shake this damn writers block off me in a similar way. I know I am scraping at the bottom of the idea barrel (with my extremely overdue for manicure hands nonetheless) when I am actually writing about the fact that I am not able to draft a blog. I’ve always considered that I am the cats pyjamas when it comes to my oratory skills (invariably every person who has ever offered me a job has heard me describe my “effective communication skills” listed under the strengths category) .

You see the problem is, I’m not much of a thinker. In the sense that I cannot come up with a creative thought overnight (even if you readily offered me all the oil in Saudi Arabia to burn), but give me someone else’s original thought and I can stretch it , modify it and otherwise extend it to a magnum opus (with my copious amounts of research thanks to my high speed internet connection at work). Once I’m done researching about it you should listen to me talk the donkeys hind leg off and while I’m at it, I can sometimes talk the arse off it too.

It’s a good thing this blog is anonymous , primarily because even though it is an illegal practice since 1750, I believe that there will be a witch hunt commissioned to find me and put a swift end to my ramblings once in for all if my identity was made public for even putting up posts of this nature.

How curiosity didn’t get this cool cat killed and other stories

Everywhere I saw in Paris I saw memorabilia that showcased cats … Big fluffy ones swishing their tails to small balls of fur peering with big eyes with their tails wound around them. And everywhere you see there is a particular big-black-as-thunder-cat with piercing eyes I might add, perched on a compound peering at you from postcards to magnets to posters to bookmarks. By the end of day 2 ….. I dont know if curiosity did anything to the cat but it definitely got the better of me and I ended up having an animated conversation with a French woman (in mime language mostly) who told me that the poster was of a very famous cabaret in Paris which was closed before 1900. Would have been cool to visit it if it was still open. Beaver was "more than" interested in visiting the Moulin Rouge up until his beedy eyes roved over the section explaining the entry fees  .......... Up until then, his formerly mentioned eyes were roving all over the poster of "the artists" performing at Moulin Rouge. 

 If cats were piping my curiosity in old Paree , It was donkeys when we reached Greece , to a point of overdrive … There were donkey keychains , donkey stuffed toys (I cannot imagine an Indian kid asking for a donkey soft toy) , donkey bags and what not. Didn’t remember to ask anyone what’s with Greeks and the love of donkeys??