I trust you all survived the holidays satisfactorily too.

The tabby one is called Linus (that's after my great-grandfather) and the black and white one is called Oliver, which is Ewen's middle name.
They're busy getting the hang of the pet door system, and life is pretty much an endless cycle of eating, sleeping, grooming and tearing around, regardless of the human hours of the day or night.

The 16 year old would-be frat boy decided it was a good idea to throw a party at his place while his parents were on holiday. Nothing special about that, I hear you say, we have all been there. (I threw a party once but I invited only female friends, I don't remember what the occasion was but I do remember loud and incessant banging on the front door by hordes of guys who thought it impermissible I could have a party with 20 girls to which they were not invited. I can remember waking up, not quite wearing what I was was at the start of the evening. Nothing scandalous had ensued - but I was never able to convince my male friends to do a male version).
Our Corey has such standing within his adolescent community that about 500 of his mates turned up. And really, it's not difficult to see why our boy is so popular: he takes extreme care of his image, as is wont of savvy dudes in this media age, complete with signature plastic yellow over-sized sunglasses and never wearing t shirts under his hooded parka to ensure full exposure of his toned little bod complete with nipple ring.
Foreign and domestic news media couldn't resist the story from all angles - from moral panic to social commentary to fashion commentary, and an instant celebrity was born.
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