Don't be deceived by mere appearances.  Not all my entries are real entries.  Some are just  placebos which trick your mind into entertaining and enlightening itself by merely appearing to be entertaining and enlightening through an insidiously deceptive manipulation of words, color, symbols, and cat allusions.  Although these intellectually inert entries cannot hurt you, neither are they a nutritionally complete alternative to real entries derived from real thoughts and real feelings generated by a real life.  
     On the other hand, how many real entries offer you 

     -----Texas-Canadians yelling "YEEEHAW, eh?"
     -----Fantasy boutiques in which hooded bikinis are offered for sale to  
pious sun-worshiping nuns 
     -----The revelation that Toledo was built on futonrock instead of bedrock because nobody expected it to stay as long as it has
     -----Answers to questions like, "Does Texas have an ambassador to the United States?"
     -----Ideas For Bumper Stickers For Wide Load Vehicles like "If Jesus had been shot instead of crucified, the NRA would say it was just a case of the Jews and the Romans defending their culture."
     -----Pointless lists that end on a lame note.

     OK, so LOTS of real journals offer that last thing, too.  I told you these placebo entries were insidious in their ability to deceive, didn't I?  
     Hey, I don't have to take your inattention.
     This section is now CLOSED.
 

     My cat, Jester, is fine.  He's still enjoying sitting on his windowseat in my office, watching the chipmunk relieve my bird feeder of all that nasty seed.  He actually meowed a little bit ago, sending Mr. Chipmunk into a flurry of scurrying away.  Even though Jester was actually meowing at me.  I think he was asking, "Aren't you pregnant yet?"  I have no idea why he'd ask such a thing - what can I say?  Cats are weird....
     

     My newspaper came out today with a new system for rating the movies it reviews.  That made me realize that I've never had a system of my own.  At this point, I realized I had a choice: I could feel sorry for myself, get depressed, and cry, or I could feel sorry for myself, get depressed, and develop a system while I cried.  
     I decided to go with the latter choice after the former failed to provide me with the system that I craved.
     Here's what I came up with:

     ***** (5 Stars) - I award 5 Stars to those movies that are distinctly so-so.  This elevation of the mundane to the level of the classic flatters the tastes of the common folk and is a sure-fire way to win their approval.  Since there are more common folk than any other kind, I figure this is the most efficient use of the limited amount of flattery I have in me.  

     ****  (4 Stars) - I award 4 Stars to my favorite movies but which others might realize are my favorite movies were I to award them 5 Stars.  4 Stars protects me from revealing too much of myself and thereby opening myself up to ridicule, teasing, joshing, and unending references to my poor taste in movies and/or mental retardation.

     ***   (3 Stars) - I award 3 Stars to movies that really suck, just because I either a) feel real sorry for the people who made this turkey and am afraid they'd commit suicide en masse if they ever learned what I really thought of them, or b) find the awfulness such a hoot that I want to encourage the people responsible to make another just as bad so I can laugh as hard again real soon.

     **     (2 Stars) - I award 2 Stars to movies I've never seen but want other people to think I've seen.  2 Stars allows me to adopt a world-weary tone and pass off a general attack on the Hollywood mindset as a specific attack on whatever movie it is I haven't seen.  So far, no one has seen through my ruse - probably because I perfected my technique by reading all the big name critics for years.

     *       (1 Star) - I award 1 Star to movies that dare to be better than anything I could have written.  If they don't care enough to protect my fragile ego by cloaking their genius behind a veil of laughable cliché, I don't care enough to be honest with them.  Bastards.  They have their genius.  Damn if they're gonna get my approval, too.