It is bastard cold out there this morning and he would like you to know he is displeased. Don’t listen to him. He is the Alarm Clock Nazi. He hears my alarm go off, stomps into bed and does not allow me to use the Snooze button. If I do, he smacks me around the face. And then he’ll rest his heed against my forehead like, “sorry, I need love and attention, and also food” because cats collectively, as a species, have never been fed. If you ask them.