I've been selling some comic books lately. I have titles I bought because I thought they might be valuable in the future but didn't necessarily like the character. Some of the books are valuable. most are not. I collected comics because I like the characters or the stories or the universe they were in. It was bought to be read and enjoyed and I would talk about what I read with my other comic geek friends.
Now some of what I collected are valuable. But like anything of "value," to sell it you have to find someone else who also thinks its valuable. For example, the Hope diamond is purported to be worth $350,000,000. But you'd have to find someone willing to shell out that ridiculous amount for a hunk of carbon.
Back to comics. The comics I collected for decades are in bags in long comic boxes. They were all carefully read when I bought them. In fact I held them with a folded piece of typing paper so the oil from my hands didn't damage the cover. It wasn't a thing where I planned to sell them and put my kids thru college, but I didn't want to leave finger prints on the covers. Comics now are sold at comic shops with bags and boards to protect them. It keeps the spines of the comics from getting damaged and the pages from getting creased.
I was working a job and talking to a guy I know who goes to comic conventions. I said I had some books to sell. He asked for titles and I gave him a list I had made for a comic dealer I met at wonder con. (Dude, if you had ever called or emailed me back we could have made a deal.) The lists took a long time and encompass the 2100-2300 comics I have in 7 boxes.
The guy at work looked at the list and wanted to see about 20 books. Specific issues of certain titles. I went to the Overstreet's comic buyers guide and looked up these books. They were first appearances of a few character which have become popular. Lobo. Doomsday. Things like that. I looked on eBay to see what the going rates are for the issues he wanted.
When I'm at SDCC I look at the vendors with comic books. They have big walls of books in plastic bags or better yet graded by a company called CGC. And I look at the prices. I have a lot of books which are pretty valuable; if I were able to get the prices they have on their walls.
So I haggled with him about prices. He is a collector of toys and comics and lots of pop culture things apparently. He kept coming back to the condition. Granted he's trying to get the best deal he can, but I, as a seller, don't want to feel like I'm getting taken advantage of just because I need cash.
Eventually I sold him a number of books. It helped my bank account but not as well as I would've liked. He commented later to me saying he had looked at some of the books with a magnifying glass. And there were creases. I found that odd. A magnifying glass. It's a comic book. One that is anywhere from 10-20-30 years old. It's brightly printed newspaper which no one who originally printed them back in the 1930s thought they'd have any value.
I wanted to ask if he read it. If he enjoyed it. I didn't because he was looking for flaws on his newly acquired investment, not as a book to be read and enjoyed.
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Friday, May 6, 2016
Stalled
Whenever I poop I prefer to be at home. It's not a phobia of public bathroom thing but more of a social awkwardness thing. The act of taking a shit next to a person in a multiple stall toilet next to someone who is doing the same thing is weird. You don't know how things are working in their GI tract, but you get an indication from the sounds coming from the stall next to you. Human bodies make embarrassing sounds...
Yes, I know. There's books like, Everyone Poops. Which is meant for children to get used to the idea that they are going to be doing it daily until death. Not reading, pooping. Though reading and pooping are a thing. I'm not the type which reads War and Peace while on the toilet. I'm generally business-like. I do my business and get on with my day. It's quick. I don't have to spend too much time.
That's not the way it is for everyone. I have been in a stall next to someone who sounded like he was forcing a grizzly bear out of his ass. I almost asked if he was okay. But then that starts any number of awkward conversations. How big is the bear? Is it a cub or a fully grown angry 15 foot tall kodiak bear?
I don't know how women's rooms are, since women go to the toilet in pairs. Is that just to get away from silly men and talk? Do they talk in the stalls? I've seen it in movies, but I don't know if it happens like that in real life. So many questions. And I don't really pine for an answer.
Men's rooms are generally quiet. Like a tomb quiet. You don't generally acknowledge another person is there. It's not the place for conversation. That can take place outside. Inside there's work to be done. And then you get out. What women don't know is that at a line of urinals, two men won't stand next to each other if they can help it. We always have an empty urinal between us. If at all possible. But that would be another blog. Or a Funny or Die video.
Once I was working a corporate thing. I was sitting in a stall doing my business when a guy entered the bathroom. I knew he was there because he was talking on his cell phone. In speaker mode. He entered the stall next to mine and continued to talk. Are you shitting me? He didn't tell the person he was in the restroom and I guess his call was soooo important he couldn't hang up. It would be easy. Say, "Can I call you back in 5 minutes?" Most people would respond affirmatively.
So I sat there being especially quiet. Uncomfortably listening to both sides of this business call. At some point I was fed up and decided to fuck with him. His call was invading the serenity of my pooping, so why not? I knocked on the wall of the stall to the guy on the phone next to me. "Excuse me." I said loudly. Loud enough for the other person on the call to hear. "Do you have any toilet paper in your stall? This one is about out. Can you please pass me about 3 feet under the wall?"
The phone call stopped. There was a long silence. The person on the other end of the call said rather icily, "I'll call you back. When you aren't busy."
I embarrassed the shit out of the guy, but it was all innocent enough, and his own fault for impolitely carrying on a conversation while pooping.
He rolled out 3 feet of TP and passed it under the wall. I said, "Thank you very much."
I quickly got out of the bathroom and never saw who it was.
Yes, I know. There's books like, Everyone Poops. Which is meant for children to get used to the idea that they are going to be doing it daily until death. Not reading, pooping. Though reading and pooping are a thing. I'm not the type which reads War and Peace while on the toilet. I'm generally business-like. I do my business and get on with my day. It's quick. I don't have to spend too much time.
That's not the way it is for everyone. I have been in a stall next to someone who sounded like he was forcing a grizzly bear out of his ass. I almost asked if he was okay. But then that starts any number of awkward conversations. How big is the bear? Is it a cub or a fully grown angry 15 foot tall kodiak bear?
I don't know how women's rooms are, since women go to the toilet in pairs. Is that just to get away from silly men and talk? Do they talk in the stalls? I've seen it in movies, but I don't know if it happens like that in real life. So many questions. And I don't really pine for an answer.
Men's rooms are generally quiet. Like a tomb quiet. You don't generally acknowledge another person is there. It's not the place for conversation. That can take place outside. Inside there's work to be done. And then you get out. What women don't know is that at a line of urinals, two men won't stand next to each other if they can help it. We always have an empty urinal between us. If at all possible. But that would be another blog. Or a Funny or Die video.
Once I was working a corporate thing. I was sitting in a stall doing my business when a guy entered the bathroom. I knew he was there because he was talking on his cell phone. In speaker mode. He entered the stall next to mine and continued to talk. Are you shitting me? He didn't tell the person he was in the restroom and I guess his call was soooo important he couldn't hang up. It would be easy. Say, "Can I call you back in 5 minutes?" Most people would respond affirmatively.
So I sat there being especially quiet. Uncomfortably listening to both sides of this business call. At some point I was fed up and decided to fuck with him. His call was invading the serenity of my pooping, so why not? I knocked on the wall of the stall to the guy on the phone next to me. "Excuse me." I said loudly. Loud enough for the other person on the call to hear. "Do you have any toilet paper in your stall? This one is about out. Can you please pass me about 3 feet under the wall?"
The phone call stopped. There was a long silence. The person on the other end of the call said rather icily, "I'll call you back. When you aren't busy."
I embarrassed the shit out of the guy, but it was all innocent enough, and his own fault for impolitely carrying on a conversation while pooping.
He rolled out 3 feet of TP and passed it under the wall. I said, "Thank you very much."
I quickly got out of the bathroom and never saw who it was.
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
2 Black Cats?
Since August of last year I've been feeding a feral cat im my neighborhood. I wrote about it last year in this sparely updated blog.
He or she is jet black and has a clipped right ear. I was told by someone that feral cats are captured and fixed so they can't have kittens, then released back into their own neighborhood. It keeps the feral cat population down and keeps cats which can't be adopted because they are wild from being destroyed.
On a few occasions the cat came to my kitchen door and I fed it. But I looked at it and thought something was odd. The ear didn't seem to be cut. It was a black cat roughly the same size. The ear difference I thought to be because of the angle I was at or some other thing.
Nope. There's another feral cat in my neighborhood that is virtually identical. How do I know? They both came by last Saturday at supper time.
Now the first black cat doesn't like other cats. It's pretty wary when eating. Constantly looking around waiting for an attack from another cat. Which happens sometimes from a indoor/outdoor cat in my building. But this other black cat he seems to be cool with.
So I was surprised to see 2 cats at the same time. It solved the mystery of the ear. Not a Sherlock Holmes level mystery, but something to be wondered about for a moment after I put down the metal bowl.
When the first cat was done I coaxed the other cat over to have a bite of dinner as well. I don't know where they go, if they go together or not, but they are out there struggling to survive. And in some small way I help them out.
I should set up a go fund me page to offset the $2 a week cost of my altruism! Brilliant!
He or she is jet black and has a clipped right ear. I was told by someone that feral cats are captured and fixed so they can't have kittens, then released back into their own neighborhood. It keeps the feral cat population down and keeps cats which can't be adopted because they are wild from being destroyed.
On a few occasions the cat came to my kitchen door and I fed it. But I looked at it and thought something was odd. The ear didn't seem to be cut. It was a black cat roughly the same size. The ear difference I thought to be because of the angle I was at or some other thing.
Nope. There's another feral cat in my neighborhood that is virtually identical. How do I know? They both came by last Saturday at supper time.
So I was surprised to see 2 cats at the same time. It solved the mystery of the ear. Not a Sherlock Holmes level mystery, but something to be wondered about for a moment after I put down the metal bowl.
When the first cat was done I coaxed the other cat over to have a bite of dinner as well. I don't know where they go, if they go together or not, but they are out there struggling to survive. And in some small way I help them out.
I should set up a go fund me page to offset the $2 a week cost of my altruism! Brilliant!
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
What the Fuck? Politics!?!
I really don't understand politics this time around.
People seem to have lost their minds. An orange insane narcicist is leading in the GOP polls by being a total asshole. The people going to his rallies say they are angry. Seem to be angry at everything. Including decency and common sense. If they were in a bar and the drunk jackass at the end of the bar insulted their wife, called her a fat ugly dog, the man would go punch the drunk in the face. The drunk would then say he was just being politically incorrect.
That's Trump. He's the drunk asshole at the end of the bar insulting your wife. But for some reason the voting public are embracing his assholishness and saying he tells it like it is. Which is bullshit. He's just an bloviating dickweed with weird hair who is spewing his Id all over America like a porn star at a bukkake. If the angry mob would stop attacking protesters and listen... Who am I kidding? They like the show. They finally get to say all the hateful things out in public. The anti black, anti immigrant, anti other crap that makes them fear. The idea that America in the 1950s was better. Yeah, maybe if you were white and middle class.
But the funny thing about the middle class jobs that went to China and Mexico trump keeps crowing about, saying he's going to bring them back. They were in manufacturing. Cars. Appliances. Clothing. Hard goods. All those good paying union jobs were sent to Mexico and China by the companies. It was because why pay $30 an hour to make a car when it can be done in Mexico for a fraction of the labor cost. More money for the company and it's stockholders. This is the economic bottom line. The corporations are in it to make money and they are going to screw the workers more often than not.
This economic anger and frustration has given rise to trump. Which I find shocking. If you listen to him he has no plans to do anything. It's all verbal run around. 4th grade verbal run around. His plan to defeat ISIL is a secret. So secret he doesn't even know it. His economic plan helps trump inc. Not the electorate. Throwing people off the ACA and abolishing it is going to kill, literally kill people. Because no matter how big an applause line hating Obamacare is, it actually helps people not die. And none of the GOP has a plan to replace it. Going back to the old system of insurance where a plan gets cancelled when someone gets cancer is a horrible, horrible idea.
So how do you inject decency and thoughtfulness back into the politics of today. Fuck. I don't know. I read the comment sections on facebook and various news websiites. It's vitriol and unabashed hatred. Not just for the system, the politicians you don't like, but for people. people who are exercising their right to share an opinion. And they are being attacked on a personal level.
Should we be shocked? Not really. The right wing media, Fox news and the talk radio folks like Rush have made hate fashionable.
What can be done? Hell if I know. Maybe not consider your opinion the only one which matters. Opinions are like assholes. Everyone has got one. But you don't have to be an asshole to express it or attack those who disagree with it.
The opinion, not the rectum.
People seem to have lost their minds. An orange insane narcicist is leading in the GOP polls by being a total asshole. The people going to his rallies say they are angry. Seem to be angry at everything. Including decency and common sense. If they were in a bar and the drunk jackass at the end of the bar insulted their wife, called her a fat ugly dog, the man would go punch the drunk in the face. The drunk would then say he was just being politically incorrect.
That's Trump. He's the drunk asshole at the end of the bar insulting your wife. But for some reason the voting public are embracing his assholishness and saying he tells it like it is. Which is bullshit. He's just an bloviating dickweed with weird hair who is spewing his Id all over America like a porn star at a bukkake. If the angry mob would stop attacking protesters and listen... Who am I kidding? They like the show. They finally get to say all the hateful things out in public. The anti black, anti immigrant, anti other crap that makes them fear. The idea that America in the 1950s was better. Yeah, maybe if you were white and middle class.
But the funny thing about the middle class jobs that went to China and Mexico trump keeps crowing about, saying he's going to bring them back. They were in manufacturing. Cars. Appliances. Clothing. Hard goods. All those good paying union jobs were sent to Mexico and China by the companies. It was because why pay $30 an hour to make a car when it can be done in Mexico for a fraction of the labor cost. More money for the company and it's stockholders. This is the economic bottom line. The corporations are in it to make money and they are going to screw the workers more often than not.
This economic anger and frustration has given rise to trump. Which I find shocking. If you listen to him he has no plans to do anything. It's all verbal run around. 4th grade verbal run around. His plan to defeat ISIL is a secret. So secret he doesn't even know it. His economic plan helps trump inc. Not the electorate. Throwing people off the ACA and abolishing it is going to kill, literally kill people. Because no matter how big an applause line hating Obamacare is, it actually helps people not die. And none of the GOP has a plan to replace it. Going back to the old system of insurance where a plan gets cancelled when someone gets cancer is a horrible, horrible idea.
So how do you inject decency and thoughtfulness back into the politics of today. Fuck. I don't know. I read the comment sections on facebook and various news websiites. It's vitriol and unabashed hatred. Not just for the system, the politicians you don't like, but for people. people who are exercising their right to share an opinion. And they are being attacked on a personal level.
Should we be shocked? Not really. The right wing media, Fox news and the talk radio folks like Rush have made hate fashionable.
What can be done? Hell if I know. Maybe not consider your opinion the only one which matters. Opinions are like assholes. Everyone has got one. But you don't have to be an asshole to express it or attack those who disagree with it.
The opinion, not the rectum.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
A Change In Perspective
I was working a job. It was going to be a long 10 hour day. I was going to be walking miles and miles in a convention center hall rigging a corporate show It's a space maybe 2 times the size of a football field.
One of my jobs is very physically demanding. In all the time I've done the job I've never seen a guy in a wheel chair do the ground rigging part of it. So I was surprised. And I watched him do the job but struggle with things I've never thought of before. He had to lock the wheels of the chair so he could bend at the waist to write on the floor in chalk as we marked out the points. Otherwise he might roll away or his actions would turn the chair. He had to manage the things in his lap because he couldn't put stuff in his pockets easily.
He was young. Under 30 I think. And I made a point over the entire day I worked with him never to whine about how my feet hurt or my legs were tired from standing. It took 7 hours to mark out over 350 points on the ground. But having the guy in the wheel chair right there made me shut the fuck up.
I didn't ask what happened to him but listening to the banter with him and his co workers I learned a lot.
He was injured in a car accident of some kind. A driver hit him. I don't know if he was in a car or on a motorcycle or walking. When one of his co workers was giving him shit he started his retort with, "When I was laying on the pavement with a broken back..." That was a jarring statement to hear.
He was relatively new to the chair. I think the accident happened in the past year. This job was one of his first gigs back. He also said he can't drive. After an accident like that the state pulls your driver's license. You have to retake the driving test in the new vehicle with hand controls since you can't operate a regular car without using your feet.
Also, he had no feeling below the waist. None. So that means... He had catheters inserted into his urethra. Which means there was a bag of waste somewhere attached to that catheter. I once wore a bag with a tube on me for a play I did where I was a war veteran. It was filled with water but it definitely changes how I moved and felt. I could take it off when the play was done. He's going to be decades in that chair.
But worse than catheters, NO SEX. The equipment no longer works. That is horrifying to me. He has a girlfriend, but I don't know how the whole sex issue is worked out.
He is a good guy with a good attitude. I could see he was frustrated at times with his situation and inability to do things, but overall he was coping well. And I did wonder what I would do in that situation. To go from able and active to being in a wheel chair.
I wonder if after his accident someone said the platitude, "God has a plan for you." Or "This happened for a reason." If someone said that to me I'd hit them. It's not a plan, it's an accident and deities shouldn't want people to become crippled. I'd be angry in that situation.
If anything, I'm changed. For how long, I don't know. But when I whine about being inconvenienced by some small thing in life, I know it could always be worse.
One of my jobs is very physically demanding. In all the time I've done the job I've never seen a guy in a wheel chair do the ground rigging part of it. So I was surprised. And I watched him do the job but struggle with things I've never thought of before. He had to lock the wheels of the chair so he could bend at the waist to write on the floor in chalk as we marked out the points. Otherwise he might roll away or his actions would turn the chair. He had to manage the things in his lap because he couldn't put stuff in his pockets easily.
He was young. Under 30 I think. And I made a point over the entire day I worked with him never to whine about how my feet hurt or my legs were tired from standing. It took 7 hours to mark out over 350 points on the ground. But having the guy in the wheel chair right there made me shut the fuck up.
I didn't ask what happened to him but listening to the banter with him and his co workers I learned a lot.
He was injured in a car accident of some kind. A driver hit him. I don't know if he was in a car or on a motorcycle or walking. When one of his co workers was giving him shit he started his retort with, "When I was laying on the pavement with a broken back..." That was a jarring statement to hear.
He was relatively new to the chair. I think the accident happened in the past year. This job was one of his first gigs back. He also said he can't drive. After an accident like that the state pulls your driver's license. You have to retake the driving test in the new vehicle with hand controls since you can't operate a regular car without using your feet.
Also, he had no feeling below the waist. None. So that means... He had catheters inserted into his urethra. Which means there was a bag of waste somewhere attached to that catheter. I once wore a bag with a tube on me for a play I did where I was a war veteran. It was filled with water but it definitely changes how I moved and felt. I could take it off when the play was done. He's going to be decades in that chair.
But worse than catheters, NO SEX. The equipment no longer works. That is horrifying to me. He has a girlfriend, but I don't know how the whole sex issue is worked out.
He is a good guy with a good attitude. I could see he was frustrated at times with his situation and inability to do things, but overall he was coping well. And I did wonder what I would do in that situation. To go from able and active to being in a wheel chair.
I wonder if after his accident someone said the platitude, "God has a plan for you." Or "This happened for a reason." If someone said that to me I'd hit them. It's not a plan, it's an accident and deities shouldn't want people to become crippled. I'd be angry in that situation.
If anything, I'm changed. For how long, I don't know. But when I whine about being inconvenienced by some small thing in life, I know it could always be worse.
Monday, December 14, 2015
Donald Trump = Zaphod Beeblebrox
I was reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy the other day. As it introduced Zaphod Beeblebrox, I started drawing parallels with Donald Trump
Zaphod has 2 heads. The added one is considered less attractive than the original. Trump only has one head, but his hair is weird and is brought up in derisive ways by people slamming Trump.
Zaphod became Galactic President as a scam. Trump doesn't really want to be president. Not really. It's an ego driven scam being played out on America.
Zaphod was elected by low information voters. Trump's base of support is a bunch of low information supporters. Tell them the truth about the man or his businesses and business practices, and they deny it. Say it's not true.
Zaphod as president is an infuriating and fascinating character. Trump is too.
Zaphod didn't use the prepared remarks before he stole the Heart of Gold spaceship. And the media loved it. Trump doesn't use prepared remarks. He speaks extemporaneously and goes off on tangents as the audience reacts to his speech.
Zaphod is described in the book as a "good-timer, (Crook? Quite possibly.), manic self publicist, terrible at personal relationships, often thought to be completely out to lunch.
An internet search of adjectives for Trump: Maniac, narcissist, self-promoter, arrogant, blowhard, idiot, clown, egomaniac, pompous, showman, bombastic.
So.
There you go.
Donald Trump is Zaphod Beeblebrox.
Without the good parts.
Zaphod has 2 heads. The added one is considered less attractive than the original. Trump only has one head, but his hair is weird and is brought up in derisive ways by people slamming Trump.
Zaphod was elected by low information voters. Trump's base of support is a bunch of low information supporters. Tell them the truth about the man or his businesses and business practices, and they deny it. Say it's not true.
Zaphod as president is an infuriating and fascinating character. Trump is too.
Zaphod didn't use the prepared remarks before he stole the Heart of Gold spaceship. And the media loved it. Trump doesn't use prepared remarks. He speaks extemporaneously and goes off on tangents as the audience reacts to his speech.
Zaphod is described in the book as a "good-timer, (Crook? Quite possibly.), manic self publicist, terrible at personal relationships, often thought to be completely out to lunch.
An internet search of adjectives for Trump: Maniac, narcissist, self-promoter, arrogant, blowhard, idiot, clown, egomaniac, pompous, showman, bombastic.
So.
There you go.
Donald Trump is Zaphod Beeblebrox.
Without the good parts.
Monday, September 7, 2015
Feral Cat Mojo
The little black cat came to the short chain link fence around 5 o'clock. I'd spent the day hiding from the early September heat in my apartment. I saw him look from the neighbor's yard into the yard of my apartment. I hadn't put out any food for a couple days because of work and my schedule being weird.
Earlier in August I saw the cat in the front yard of my apartment and thought about him. Because of the drought very few people were watering like they used to, so what was he drinking? There have been 2 bowls sitting in the yard, from when someone was leaving food, I'm guessing for him, for a very long time. Since temps were over 100 for a few weeks I left the cat water. And one day I felt bad for him so I left a can of tuna out from my pantry.
This cat has been wild in my neighborhood for over 5 years. I've not thought much about him (I don't know it's gender so I'm calling it "him.") ever, really. He's never been with people that I can tell. His manner is very wary and careful, always looking around; ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. He passes like a shadow in the night. He used to be under my building 5 years ago, though no one knew how he gained access. I don't know where he sleeps now.
I had picked up cans of cat food and been putting it out on a semi-regular basis in the metal bowl, usually at night. I don't know where he gets his food; birds, rats, mice, bugs? It's got to be a tough life, so I thought I'd help out and give him a free meal every once in a while. Extra calories to keep living. But I've never put out the food at a certain time. Being a wild cat, he doesn't have a schedule or place or time. He just is.
When he came to the fence today I thought about it. Usually he disappears when I go out my kitchen door and doesn't return. I got a pitcher and filled it with a bit of water. I opened up the tin of cat food I had in the pantry. It was a pate style. A big clump of wet brown something with what looked like egg? I unlocked the security door and prepared myself. Out in the rocky front lawn there are fleas. I don't know if there are a lot, but in previous excursions to the front yard, some have jumped on me and hitched a ride into my apartment. A steam cleaning of the rug and flea bombs seemed to remedied the matter, however.
I rushed out, slopped the water into the bowl and dumped the clump of cat food in the other bowl. I retreated back to my door and inspected my legs. I was quick, under 15 seconds, and no fleas had found me.
I stood at my kitchen window and watched. The cat came to the other side of the fence and looked around. I lost it behind a tree as it moved away. Then it appeared at the end of the fence in my front yard. It slowly padded toward the food scanning the area carefully. It sniffed as it got near the food bowl. The food must have been okay because it started eating immediately and looked around in between bites. He was ready to flee at the first sign of trouble. I was thinking it would throw up from eating so fast. Cats and food can be a bit weird.
Something spooked him and he ran out of view. When the coast was clear he came back and continued to eat. It finished off the whole can of food. I have put out food before, but usually after dark so I didn't know if the cat was eating it or maybe a squirrel or rat. This time I had proof the intended animal ate the food. After he finished he had a quick drink. The he walked toward my window, sat down, and groomed himself a bit. He was watching me. Did he know I was his benefactor? Did he care? Was I just some sucker to feel sorry for this hungry little cat?
I figure I'm never going to pet him. He doesn't get close enough to anything to be touched or handled. There's no collar on him so he's a wild cat. I watched him a little bit and the animal lover (sucker) in me wondered if it were possible to fix his situation. He'd been doing okay for over 5 years without me. He probably wouldn't do well if he were captured and adopted. I don't want a cat. I don't have a living situation that is conducive to pet ownership. But I like that I can help out this one cat just a bit.
Though I do wonder if I give this cat food on a semi-regular basis, is it going to fuck up his feral cat mojo? Will he become dependent on me to give him food?
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