... I'm not actually dead

It's been a while since I last wrote. I don't have any kind of real excuse, other than general busy-ness. I think I've gotten things back under control, though.

The kittens are doing well. Socks is chewing on the blanket, and Whiskey is likely asleep on the bathroom floor. The apartment doesn't exactly have great insulation, so the floor in the bathroom has a tendency of heating up during winter. Between that floor and the radiators, the kittens have turned into little heat sponges. They both have a tendency to fall asleep straddling a radiator, getting up only when approaching dehydration.

I watched Little Mosque on the Prairie again last night. I have to say it's a pretty funny show. While it is a bit cutesy, it does occasionally veer in the vague direction of the Line, regardless of whether it ever gets within visual range.

All the same, a vocal sub-section of people have been criticizing CBC for not taking the "threat of Muslim immigration" more seriously. To these people, I say this: While making sweeping generalizations may save you the colossal effort of having to think for yourself, it does not prevent us from concluding that you're a raving idiot.

Think I'm kidding? See for yourself. (Page 2, Fred Smuts)

In any case, time to do a bit more work on things and then call it a night. Eight hours of uninterrupted sleep is one of the world's finest luxuries.