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Typically one is spurred to write, when one has strong emotions. This is why robots do not write good prose and Dr Spock’s singing career fell flat. I have written from numerous emotions but nothing as sad as what I type now.

Ferris Wes McConnell was born in 1994. His first few days were spent in a roller door of a cowshed and his life may have been largely uneventful but he was destined for a life with humans. He was adopted by my sister christened Wes and developed a taste for full cream milk.

He got rather large and to this day carries an underbelly reminder of his early excess. To his credit he was an apt hunter but his real talents lay in human relations and as an ambassador for the feline kind. Patient and temperless he always had time for anyone and could be coaxed into a conversation with little effort.

Ferris came into my life shortly before I met my wife. It was timely. I had been recommended to get a pet by good council. I was still in my self prescribed, self medicating stage of self development and a pet was agreed as a good way to get some grounding.

Ferris rapidly adapted to a bachelors life and quickly became a frequent visitor to many laps. His ginger fur caused much consternation before people left the house. But with some grace I was able to offer a lint lifter and a knowing smile.

When my wife came along Ferris rapidly became her cat. Like sitting in the warmest part of the house each day. The sunlight of my wifes affection became his favourite place to lounge. At first I was put out and then I realised. He is just as clever as me. He likes Annas company to my own and who am I to blame?

At this juncture things become sombre. Given Ferris’s age and health, we could not find a family to him to stay with whilst we travel the world. We had resigned to a tearful farewell to our ginger redeeming friend.

In fact this morning whilst I was writing this I must admit to feeling pretty glum. So glum that I finished about two paragraphs ago and went and cuddled ferris as is want in our house when one feels suitably sad.

But ferris is not ready to move on to his next stage of reincarnation just yet. The gods smiled. A suitable home was found and Ferris may fit in a few more stories before his tale is told.

I think of the earth as a freshly picked orange, ripe and ready to eat. The smallest of slivers eaten (New Zealand) the rest of the orange lies hidden under an inviting peel.

Resolved to traveling things are falling into place.

Before embarking on a quest. Good heroes must stock up on provisions and take inventory.

A pack to carry equipment

Footware to traipse and wander in

And a suitably sized Laptop

Now to plan an Odyssey. Stay tuned.

I have embarked on a new tangent. My last somewhat formal education was a 12 week astrology course. Before that it would have been computer training of some shape.

My next trick will be a year long creative writing course. Long time readers will probably find this at odds with my recent writings in fact some of you would feel I need to dull my creativity to find a wider audience.

But fear little my patient pets. This course shall sharpen my fingers and invigorate my brain to new heights. I shall be spending four hours a week on my course and I shall post my assignments here for you to read, comment and enrich your lives with.

Welcome to my latest tirade against sensible sensibilities. In this piece we examine A.S.S for the uninformed.

American Superhero Syndrome.

Topically A.S.S is a mental disorder which afflicts people such as myself who were bought up on a diet of comics, poorly animated video games and cheap novels. Symptoms include a propensity of fighting other peoples battles, loathing other peoples illogical love interests and the somewhat admirable ability to change clothing at the drop of a hat.

After 30 years of exhibiting such errant behavior I am now in a position to present a treatment plan and through cognitive engineering rehabilitate such noble modern day agnostic paladins as myself.

Firstly we must start with the cause.

People are really stupid.

Ain’t that the truth. If you can accept that you are more than half of the way to absolution. This blog is a prime example of my own stupidity. To think that writing this guide would help heal the world. Leave that to Michael Jackson and we all know he needs some electroshock therapy to fix his face.

Secondly

When money is involved People are more stupid

Its not rocket science but time and time again people will come to you with problems which if you strip away the nicely present emotive arguments have money firmly attached to the rear end of them like a well placed pin with resplendent tassle. Do them a favour call them a donkey and when they don’t respond yell A.S.S(do you see what I did there?)

Thirdly

Stay the hell away from broke ass relationships

This perhaps is the hardest lesson. Being sympathetic is a core human value but it really is pathetic when you are hearing about someone breaking up for the umpteenth time. Write them off as learning a hard learned lesson. Think of them as canceling each others faults out. Be happy they aren’t inflicting pain and suffering on other souls. Change your phone number. Forge your own death do anything you can to get the fuck away from such and abortion of humanity realised.

I *upgraded* the bones Nintendowii.net.nz runs on last night and it completely stuffed the website. Mildly gutting. More gutting is the news today that WiiNesDay is going to have to move on from Space.

So yeah kind of a crap day. But you know?

I’m quite fired up and things will get better.

Karl is going to help me restore the backup tonight and things will improve.

I was clicking away the other night as you do. My beautiful wife was in a what I thought deep sleep and lo and behold after a few sly drags and clicks I was admonished.

STOP CLICKING

I was caught. A newly roused female is a frightening creature at the best of worst times and stumped was I. What to do? Try it yourself, try navigating this very page without making loud clicks. Its impossible!

So I went off and stewed and then got thinking. Why don’t mouse manufacturers make mice which don’t make any noise? Mice for the thoughtful browser such as I. Something to ponder. Please comment if you have any solutions