Catmopolitan

It has been a long time, loyal readers, and I apologize. Obie and I were tragically separated for three unbearable months while I was living in New Jersey, slaving away on a horse farm. Luckily I was fired 2 days before Christmas and returned to Nebraska, brimming with tips for Obie on how to be the perfect Guido, which apparently he already knew.

Faithful followers, I came home to a changed man. The arrogant, stand-offish, somewhat cruel Obie I left behind had transformed into the perfect gentleman. He cuddles instead of scratches, purrs instead of bites, remembers to put the toilet seat down and holds the door open for Sadie. He no longer subscribes to Mens' Health and instead spends hours pouring over National Geographic and the New York Times, offering insightful commentary to Thomas Friedman and Maureen Dowd. Yesterday when I came home from work he had prepared a delicious pistachio-crusted chicken dish topped with a delicate coconut chili ginger sauce, complete with tiramisu for dessert, all from scratch. "Just a little something I threw together," he said.

Hey. Yeah. I'm lying. People never change, and neither do evil alien overlords sent from outerspace in cat form to take over the world. Obie is back, readers, and evil as ever.

Until next time, please enjoy this little gem Katharine pulled out of the New Apartments D-1 archives: The first ever cover of Catmopolitan Magazine, coming never to a store near no one.