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Professor Furpants, while eschewing most human holidays, is particularly fond of the New Year (he's a Tiger, you know, and he's looking forward to his year in 2010). Before he goes out and does anything he rests up and ensures that all his friends, colleagues, and even the interns have been emailed and reminded of the location of the party (in the mountain lair, BYOC[atnip]).

And as the clock rolls over tonight, the Professor would like to wish a very Happy and Prosperous New Year to all of you whom he will one day rule with an iron claw.

PARTAY!!

'Tis The Season

The Professor isn't much into holidays, which he perceives simply as a disruption to his daily routine. But he will allow himself to be periodically distracted. To your left, you will see him exploring the Colonel's "secret recipe" (in actuality, there was nothing left in the bag at the time but a couple of stray fries). Paper bags and cardboard boxes seem to be the Professor's mainstay for investigating human foibles, since so many of our things are packaged and delivered in them.




And to the right you will note the nice little Christmas tree that I've put up--the first one in a decade. Don't be fooled by the Professor's expression; he doesn't feel one bit guilty. In fact, he informed me that it was all my fault anyway for not hanging the decorations in an appropriately secure fashion.

I have re-attached the fallen decoration and hope that it won't fall again. Of course I shall post updates here.

On Indolence

As the winter progresses, the Professor's energy levels tend to slide fairly low, and very little work gets done on his thesis. It means that most of the photos of him during this time are like the one to the right.

For the Professor's sake, I try to keep the place a little warmer than it would be normally; it makes him more comfortable (and keeps him from climbing up on me looking for warmth when I'm trying to defeat VG bosses, and distracting me with his razor-sharp claws that he refuses to have clipped because he needs them "just in case". In case of what? I ask. He responds, naturally, with only a haughty look.)



Of course, cold weather isn't the exclusive demesne of the Professor's power naps, as is evidenced by the photo to the left, taken in early summer of this year, before the Prof's cozy cuddly nappytime beddy-bed was relocated to my desk. Which was done to keep him from--well, from doing just this, flopping over my stuff, walking on the keyboard, spilling my drinks, et cetera (it doesn't work).