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Wednesday, June 14, 2006


A virtual feast

Even though Aloysius convinced Darcy to get his own email address and stay out of Aloysius' spambox, we haven't yet been able to figure out how to make Darcy a member of our team. So once again, I'm posting this on behalf of Darcy X.

Katz beat me to it, announcing just hours ago that the First Church of Catymology will hold its first annual Spam Supper. But the devil's in the details, you know?

The big news Katz forgot is that ths Spam Supper is going to be a virtual feast, taking place right here at Catymology, and all you blogging cats and catted ones are invited.

I know, I know, my cats and catted ones, you think I’ve got Spam on the brain, and maybe you’re right. Ever since I tucked into that Spam Musubi in Honolulu, I’ve been a little drunk. I’m wondering, yo, do Hormel humans put catnip in their secret recipe?

It’s also been pointed out to me in a gazillion ways this past week that the whole Spam thing is, so to say, overdone, especially since the Broadway musical Spamalot hit the boards. Strictly speaking, I get that, but—yowl—I’m a cat. And if you’ve ever watched any of my feline tribe-mates hunting and seeking, then you know we all have the same philosophy. In a nutshell:

Repetition is the soul of art.

Coincidentally, over at Aunt Hattie’s House-o-Spam, right next door in sunny Saint Paul, Minn., repetition is no problem. I’ve been getting’ my fill. Aunt Hattie, a jolly human with a big refrigerator, favors the down-home recipes your momma might have served:

Breakfast: Spam on a bagel, Spam frittata, Fried spam and eggs

Lunch: Open-faced Spamwich, Spam Reuben sandwich, Spam with biscuits and red-eye gravy

Dinner gets a big more gourmet: Spam Wellington, Spam ala Orange, Pommes de Terre Sucres avec Spam en Casserole

After a couple weeks of this kind of vittles, I still can’t get enough Spam. So, I called in help. To say the truth, I’m still a tad offended by Professor Katz’s comment about my head in the litterbox, but I’m letting that slide cause I need his expertise. "Brother Katz," I said, "get out of the rose bush and get on that thingpod you goggle around on and find me some real gourmet Spam receipts."

That Katz, he’s got the life. Sitting under, and sometimes on top of, the roses! Soon as we’ve got the menu and the prizes set, we’ll announce the date for the big Virtual Spam Supper, and then all you cats and catted ones will get your invites.

Yours truly,


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