Rosemarie the Riveting Review Writer: Ypsilanti Cat Hoarders

Have I mentioned my other friend, Ted Wilson? Ted was my inspiration for writing reviews. And for putting tuna fish into macaroni and cheese.  Now, it seems, he has moved on to advice columns. I can only imagine the kind of advice he could give-- he has suffered heartbreak, joy, more heartbreak. Check out his newest exploits here. 

Ypsilanti Cat Hoarders

-88/5 Stars

What a better picture than that horrid house!

I feel so silly, readers, for bringing this review to you so late. I am not always current on my news, or heart worm medication. In fact, after Ann Arbor stopped delivering my newspaper, I tried several methods to get myself interested in the daily happenings of this city. At first I was having my neighbor throw his laptop onto my porch, with the tab open to the newest Ann Arbor Wikipedia article. This was not a cost effective method. When we figured out that he could take information from his computer and send it to another machine to be processed into paper-- WELL, what a delight. Now he can throw that wadded bunch onto my porch, every morning, rain or shine. 

Oh boy, I have a tendency to run away with myself. Not literally-- that would be impossible. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that neighboring my idyllic town was a group of monsters. I understand that it is hard to take care of one cat. It could even be hard to take care of two cats. Now, eighty eight? That seems like a challenge. 

Here are some questions I have about that many cats. When you hoard that many cats, do you ever sort them by color? Or by size? How many cats could possibly fit into kitchen cabinets? Do they store well for long periods of time? If they are anaerobic cats, could you get botulism from them? Should you put some vinegar with them to prevent botulism? 

Anyways, readers, I implore you, If you are think of purchasing 88 cats, think again. I will tell you some things that better come in packages of eighty eight. Decks of cards, lamps, sticky tack, episodes of My Super Sweet Sixteen, and middle names would all be better to have. Really, reconsider your actions, your direction in life, if all you are doing is testing what species of cat better matches your duvet. 

Please tune in next week for an article on the deafening, existential squeal I hear when I walk across Packard.