Scully & Max never met a gargoyle they couldn't destroy. I have several small stone gargoyles that sit on the back of a shelf. Cool-looking figurines that I, gargoyle aficionado that I am, would love to display more prominently, if only for my own enjoyment. I used to have four of them. Now I have three. Cat lovers can probably picture how that came about. Yes, one cool little figurine met its demise after encountering The Furry Fists Of Death, which sent it sailing off the windowsill, through the air, and onto the floor. I think some of it is still under the refrigerator. Try sweeping while being ambushed by furry attackers. As any cat could tell you, swatting pieces of broken knick knack across tile can be the highlight of a feline's day. But today I brought home a gargoyle big enough to stand its own ground. Probably. Hopefully. As you can see in the photos, Max even gave it a kiss. Can't help wondering if she paid attention months ago when I watched "The Godfather" on TV. 'Cause the "Kiss Of Death" would not bode well for the new gargoyle. Was that a conspiratorial look that passed between Scully & Max as they gazed upon this stony new visitor? Only time will tell.
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AuthorWriter of horror, sci-fi, other genres. Servant of cats. Multiple cats, who kindly allow me to live here (at least until they figure out how to open Fancy Feast cans themselves). Contact me at: [email protected] Archives
March 2013
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