Since today is the 4th of July, aka Independence Day for the USA, we are doing something a little bit different today. Why? Because I am sure my American fans are off doing American things (and day drinking) and I, selfishly generously, don’t want my Disciples to miss out on learning all kinds of mind-blowing facts about me. I’d tell you to abandon your barbecues and beaches, but I know it’s futile. Also, why are you on facebook? Get back to your barbecues and beaches. ‪#‎mixedmessages ‬ANYWAY! Today I am sharing with you an e-mail from Levine Breaking News. (My commentary is in parentheses. Like this.) They did a write up of cat facts. Are they true? Who knows! If they are, you heard it here. If not, I don’t know what you’re talking about. And on that note:

LBN-INVESTIGATES: Cats 1. Every year, nearly four million cats are eaten. (I don’t know if this is true, but I hope not. Also, no one get any ideas. I’m not on the value menu. I’m worth like 50 prime ribs.) 2. On average, cats spend 2/3 of every day sleeping. That means a nine-year-old cat has been awake for only three years of its life. (I’ve been awake a whole year! Hooray!) 3. Unlike dogs, cats do not have a sweet tooth. Scientists believe this is due to a mutation in a key taste receptor. (Lies. All lies. Although yesterday’s picture does not reflect this, I DO like cupcakes.) 4. When a cat chases its prey, it keeps its head level. Dogs and humans bob their heads up and down. (Bunch of bobble heads.) 5. The technical term for a cat’s hairball is a “bezoar.” (A bezoar on both your houses! Or something like that. It sounds menacing, ok.) 6. A group of cats is called a “clowder.” (At least it’s not cat chowder.) 7. Female cats tend to be right pawed, while male cats are more often left pawed. Interestingly, while 90% of humans are right handed, the remaining 10% of lefties also tend to be male. (Guess which I am!) 8. A cat can’t climb head first down a tree because every claw on a cat’s paw points the same way. To get down from a tree, a cat must back down. (What if it’s not a tree?) 9. Cats make about 100 different sounds. Dogs make only about 10. (Booyah! Make that 101.) 10. A cat’s brain is biologically more similar to a human brain than it is to a dog’s. Both humans and cats have identical regions in their brains that are responsible for emotions. (See, I told you cats are people, too! I’m positive that’s what that means.) Next week we will return to our normally scheduled broadcast.
Quando a saudade bater, olharei pra tua foto, vou colocar pra tocar o CD que tu me deu, vou tentar contar as estrelas, tudo pra me distrair. Não chorarei mais, pra dizer a verdade faz um tempo que não choro só de pensar no teu nome. É claro, ainda me arrepia e me dá uma certa dor no coração, mas chorar não vai te trazer de volta pra mim, chorar não vai adiantar em nada. Não seria bom eu aqui chorando e você ai sorrindo ao lado de outra. (…) Quem sabe chegue o dia que o teu nome nem me cause mais um aperto no peito ou o meu coração deixe de acelerar ao te ver. Quem sabe chegue o dia que ao lembrar do verde dos teus olhos eu fique feliz por saber que você está longe, mas feliz. Sinceramente, espero que você esteja bem mesmo que sem mim, a final amar é isso não é? Você que me ensinou assim. E quem sabe só de saber que você tá bem eu também fique. Com ela admirando teu sorriso de perto, e eu admirando aqui no meu quarto, olhando pra aquela foto tua que eu nunca vou ter coragem de jogar fora. E vou ficar aqui, quietinha ouvindo o CD com a foto agarrada ao peito e a janela aberta, esperando que chegue alguém que me cative como você cativou, mas que dessa vez fique, e cuide de mim como eu cuidaria de você, ou até melhor. Mas mesmo se ele me der um outro CD ou uma outra foto, nunca vou esquecer dos que você me deu. Eles podem ficar no fundo da minha gaveta por um bom tempo, mas vão ficar por lá, assim como você vai ficar no meu coração. Guardado, escondido lá no fundo, mas sempre comigo.
—  Quando a saudade bater. (Marcela Sernaglia)
La Bella Notte // Artec

Carter sat across the way from his husband, video camera in hand, and mouth still clewing on the portion of food he had shoveled into his mouth. They had been in Italy for about a week now, and despite drowning themselves in the culture (though to be honest, it just seemed like a classier version of Lorenzo’s house) and the food (fucking. noddles, man), Carter couldn’t shake the excitement of seeing everyone go fucking cray-cray over them being in London. He had tons of tweets of people either saying they were sad cause they missed him, or asked him to come back again. He sent out the video for them to watch and even posted the picture of Alec in the Peter Pan costume on, which was just a priceless reaction. Still nothing better than being tweeting saying they finally see what Carter saw in him, and then zoomed in on his crotch in the tights.

It was a good time, really. And for now, they had yet to be spotted, which was beyond enjoyable, and rather than just let it go, Carter had to record their moment for when they left. “Babe. Bay-bee! Tell the Devils what we’re doing.” Carter insisted after swallowing. 

Little Baby Nerves --> MacClarke

They might as well have bought the whole store. It’s what it had felt like, at least. Over six months pregnant, less than three more to go. It was coming up fast and they had just got what they needed. At least they had done that much. There was still no set in stone baby name. It was something she wanted to bring up today…but as always, she could tell when something was wrong. Lately, it was that she had to bring up the baby stuff and Seth hardly did. She understood that it probably went back to his nerves and to be honest, it always scared her when he got like this. She knew how far nerves could push people to a breaking point– to fear and to leave, thinking that would solve everything, but she trusted him. He wouldn’t leave her she knew that, but…if he kept getting scared with buying baby onesies then how would it be when he was holding an actual baby? The worst case scenario would be he bailed, it was impossible, but it was one of her biggest fears. More than anything she wanted him to be more excited about this, not scared of this. Their chances on getting pregnant again were more slim than they were the first time. This could be the only time she’d be pregnant…the only time they would be doing this and she wanted to be happy and enjoy this, knowing it wasn’t going to happen again. This was a dream. Their dream, together. Wasn’t it?

The brunette sat on the floor in the once empty bedroom, knowing that within time this would be the baby’s room. Of course, the first weeks Newt would most likely be in theirs, but it was still bette to be prepared– plus, she needed to keep a tad busy before her mind completely exploded from her rapid thoughts. One by one, she pulled out the onesies from the bags, separating them. What hurt her the most was, whatever went through his mind– he said nothing to her, even when it was obvious something was off. The baby…his father that they never talked about since they met with him. At this point, Em had given up on asking him what was wrong, just hoping he’d openly and willingly come to her with his thoughts. Was this really what their marriage was always going to be like: him forgetting that he had someone on his side now, always.

Tears stung in her tear ducts. Damn, hormones. They had seem to be at an all time high lately and now was certainly no exception. She remained on the floor, wiping a tear away as Newt shifted inside of her. “It’s okay, Newt.” She softly spoke. “Maybe you should tell me what you want your name to actually be instead of me just always calling you Newt,” she let out a soft laugh as she placed a pile of onesies to the side and began to go through the separates of tops and bottoms. This was the best thing for her right now– sitting in here, alone, sorting through the clothes and thoughts, but that little voice in the back of her mind just wanted and was hoping for Seth to come in– or maybe not as another tear slipped down her fair skin cheek.