Thursday, August 31, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Wednesday No. 5: August 23, 2006
After Saturday's brush with notoriety (and a stern letter of warning from the CEO of Morgan Creek), our hero hitched a ride to rehab the wellness center. Nathan's getting straight and he's starting with his posture.
At the clinic, he met his life coach, Dr. Moscovich...
...His acupuncturist, Leslie...
...And his psychotherapist, Lady Pasha.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Days Between Stations (Saturday, August 19, 2006)
It was a hot Saturday night, and Nathan had his game face on...
In the club, he got large on the dance floor...
He was shaking and shimmying that ass...
But then the night took a strange turn. Did this have something to do with the vitamins the nice man sold to Nathan? Colors intensified; the music seemed to congeal; revelers began to smear together and pulsate...
Then the furniture got uppity, hassling Nathan, picking a fight...
Even his own body turned against him, and Nathan felt he had no choice but to slay the enemy within and CHEW OFF HIS OWN ARM...
...An event narrowly averted via vitamin-induced wipeout. Bouncers escorted Nathan outside to join his fellow creatures of the night.
Nathan's pen pal Mike has also had better nights.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Days Between Stations (Friday, August 18, 2006)
"To a topologist, a rabbit is the same as a sphere." (Or, perhaps not.) But what about an exponentially growing kitten?
He even dwarfs the hippo.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Days Between Stations (Thursday, August 10, 2006)
Most frequently associated with rock stars, air rage is also common in kittens whose first trip on a plane just happens to coincide with narrowly averted liquid-bomb plots.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Wednesday No. 1: July 26, 2006
Nathan Jr. arrives home, vaguely marsupial in aspect, still warm from the oven. His skills include echolocation and conflict resolution. The needle on the bathroom scale scarcely quivers in recognition when he steps upon it. The tonal frequency of his mewls and his crime-fighting mask indicate that he may be, in fact, a Batcat. Time shall tell.