Cereal eating

I was eating a bowl of cereal today and remembered how cereal eating was completely different when I was a kid. Before the days of Malt-O-Meal in the big bags. Back when you could actually get a cool prize right in the box without having to collect 13 UPC codes and pay $49.99 in shipping and handling to send off for your prize. Back when eating cereal was an entire ritual. Here is that ritual (not recommended if you're over 10 years old):

(1) Fill your bowl to the top with cereal. If it's of the pre-sugared variety (Lucky Charms, Cocoa Puffs, Golden Grahams), skip to step 3. If it's a non-pre-sugared cereal (Corn Flakes, Rice Krispies, Cheerios), continue to step 2.



(2) Pour at least 1/4-cup of sugar on the top of your cereal. It's a miracle I didn't develop type-2 diabetes from doing this.



(3) Assemble the Eating Fortress Of Solitude. Take three cereal boxes and assemble them around your head. This allows you to immerse yourself in cereal, and really get yourself in the zone. The cereal zone.



(4) Hork down your cereal like it's going to get soggy in less than 45 seconds.



(5) Repeat steps 1-4 at least four times or until severe cramping prevents you from being able to move.

(6) Go watch cartoons.

Note to parents: I assume no liability if your children experience any ill effects from following this ritual. Kids today just don't have the cereal stamina that kids had 20 years ago.

Bad pet owners

By that title I don't mean bad people who own pets. I mean people who own bad pets. And by people owning bad pets, I mean Reece and Jessica. I've already posted about their first cat. Now they have a second cat, named Adele / Pork 'N' Beans (still undecided on the name, I don't want to talk about it). She's an abandoned kitten we found during our last trip down to St. George. Here she is pretending to like me (but really just trying to find my jugular):



She seems like a kind, caring, loving cat, but if you're real quick then you can catch things like this:



Which is what happens right before this:



Which then leads to this:



All right, they're all real except for the last one (the fake dead guy). But under Jack's careful training, Adele / Pork 'N' Beans will soon be turned into the killer psycho hose beast that will be the end of me.

Jack the cat

I'm terrified of my brother's cat Jack. And I hate scary movies. So I guess that means my version of hell would be having to watch a scary movie starring Jack. While listening to a top-40 song. While being held down and tickled. So I decided to make the movie poster of my hell: