Author: Kelly McCullough

Kelly McCullough writes fantasy, science fiction, and books for kids of varying ages. He lives in Wisconsin with his physics professor wife and a small herd of cats. His novels include Numismancer, Winter of Discontent, the WebMage and Fallen Blade series — Penguin/ACE, School for Sidekicks, Magic, Madness, and Mischief, and Spirits, Spells, and Snark — Feiwel and Friends/Macmillan. His short fiction has appeared in numerous magazines and anthologies. He has Patreon and Ko-fi pages for those who are interested in supporting his work more directly. He also dabbles in science fiction as science education with The Chronicles of the Wandering Star — part of an NSF-funded science curriculum — and the science comic Hanny & the Mystery of the Voorwerp, which he co-authored and co-edited — funding provided by NASA and the Hubble Space Telescope. Kelly on Twitter, Facebook, G+, ello

Monday Meows

I think I might be developing a drinking problem. Method, not content.

I might be judging you.

I’m definitely judging her.

Which is why you joined me in licking the tub, right?

Embarrassing. All of you.

Monday Meows

What evil lurks in the hearts of cats? It me.

So there’s that. How’s your day going?

Well, this is awkward…

I cannot unsee what I have seen.

How does she get her neck to do that?

Monday Meows

I’m defying gravity.

That’s not defying gravity. THIS is defying gravity.

Oh noes, I’m being sucked into the gravity well. Lawks.

I see your gravity well and raise you a pair of eye lasers.

Food has a higher gravity than gravity. Obviously.

In Memoriam Birkie

This is late because 2020. My friends Matt and Mandy lost their elder cat Birkie along about the beginning of November. He was a dear old thing and I frequently did kitty sitting for him. I assembled the pictures for this right away, but didn’t have the heart to put it fully together in the first few days and then the steamroller of 2020 pushed it off my plate for a bit. Now, as I’m trying to catch up on all the things, I want to take a moment to remember an old friend.

This is my first picture of him from July 2011.

He was bold and friendly and always vaguely disapproving.

I love his expression.

We bonded early.

He was pretty good at posing, if he was in the mood.

This is how I will mostly remember him, demanding my attention.

With his longtime buddy, Pippen, who is also gone.

I love this shot because of the Matt photobomb.

He spent a lot of time on my shoulder when I visited.

Or my chest.

Man did he do the We Do Not Approve look well.

Climbing me again.

Run like the wind monkey steed!

Another shot with Pippen. I love the layers of shadow here.

Mmm, tuna juice…

He had a habit of blurring my shots. Lots of movement.

I love this.

Have I mentioned that disapproving look

One of my clearest shots of him in his later years.

But this is how I will remember him the most.

So long, Birkie, I’m going to miss you.

Monday Meows

I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve called you here today.

Nope.

Not even a little bit.

Face it, you’re only talking to yourself.

Don’t tell him. He still hasn’t figured mirrors out.

That’s just sad. Even I get mirrors.

They’re the ones that can’t buy drinks yet. Right?

Monday Meows

Ahem. MiMiMi. Ahem. ME-OW.

There’s something seriously wrong with that cat.

Like, dude, that not even a cat, man. Also you’re snuggling cement.

Don’t kink shame. Now, who do I have to shiv to make the d*o*g go away?

Don’t sweat the small stuff, my dude. Go with sleep, sun, and acres of nip.

Spare “cat” courtesy of Jim and Stewart

Old Internet Troll (With apologies to JRR Tolkien)

Troll typed alone in his basement home,
He whined and lied with his book of chrome;
For many a year he had made it clear,
That truth was hard to come by.
Done by! Gum by!

In his parent’s basement he dwelt alone
And truth was hard to come by.
Down came mom with a sigh and sob.
Said she to Troll: “Pray, get out slob.
For it looks like a pit, where you type your shit,
You should be workin’ at a real job.
Steel job! Deal job!

This many a year have you done nought,
And I thought you should have a real job.”
“But mom,” said Troll, “I need a host!
I can’t be distracted from what I post.
Thy bandwidth was free because I had your key,
And I need it to shitpost.
Bitpost! Hitpost!

Who can spare a share for a poor sad troll?
For he needs his tweets liked.”
Said mom: “I don’t see why the likes o’ thee
Without axin’ leave should go makin’ free
With the password o’ your mother’s router;
So hand the keyboard over!
Rover! Trover!

Though troll you be, that belongs to me;
So hand the keyboard over!”
“For a couple o’ pins,” says Troll, and grins,
“I’ll troll thee too, and post thy sins.
A bit o’ fresh meat will be fun to tweet!
I’ll try my posts on thee now.
Hee now! See now!

I’m tired o’ posting old whines and memes;
I’ve a mind to post on thee now.”
You’ll be a nice change from other targets.
Bargets! Czargets!

But just as he thought his mother was fought,
He found his hands had hold of naught.
Before he could mind, mom slipped behind
And snatched his keyboard to larn him.
Warn him! Darn him!

A snatch o’ the keyboard his mom thought,
Would be the way to larn him.
But harder than stone is the heart and pwn
Of a troll in his basement alone.
As well set your boot to the mountain’s root,
For the heart of a troll don’t feel it.
Peel it! Heal it!

Old Troll laughed when he snatched it back,
And he knew her rep would soon feel it.
Mom’s rep is slain, since he trashed her name,
She raised a troll to her lasting shame;
But Troll don’t care, and he’s still there
With the wifi he stole from its owner.
Doner! Boner!

Troll’s old game is still the same,
And the wifi he stole from its owner!