FRANK CHESTERFIELD IS A PLUMBER FROM CHERRY HILL, NEW JERSEY, AND ONE OF THE FEW SURVIVING BLOOD RELATIVES OF LORD CHESTERFIELD. HERE, FRANK WILL OFFER HIS OWN UNIQUE 21ST CENTURY TRANSLATION OF ONE OF “UNCLE CHETTY’S” FAMOUS QUOTES.
Uncle Chetty might have had a few too many ales when he created this nugget of wisdom. I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I do know a little bit about good books and old cats, so I’ll offer my interpretation.
First up – old cats. My sister had a cat that lived to be 21 years old. Its name was Mr. Fluffington. I hated that snooty beast (the cat, not my sister) because it mauled the crap out of me when I was nine when I trapped it under a clothes basket and sprayed it with a squirt gun. I still have a scar on my left cheek to prove it. I guess I deserved it.
Now on to good books. I don’t have a lot of time to read, but when I do, it’s usually spy novels and sports biographies. For Christmas, my wife got me one of those e-reader machines that hold entire libraries of books. I haven’t had much time to mess around with it, but I will. I just hope it lasts longer than my sister’s new cat, Miss Purr-fect.
