December 6, 2025
Maxwell couldn’t help but sneer, when Monica Snapjaw cried, “Oh, Max! Why do you always have to be such a Scrooge?”
“How can I even call myself a cat, if I don’t do my best to break every Christmas ornament on that tree?” He replied. His tongue dripped acid, “And don’t forget the tinsel… I have to eat every single strand and then promptly vomit same on the couch, carpet, or best of all, the supper table!”
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Published by Russell Smith
I was born at the American Hospital in Neuilly-sur-Seine, France. I find inspiration in the lives of so many people from Joan of Arc to Oscar Wilde. While my primary avocation is photography, I also enjoy philosophy, theology and most of all, history. My beloved wife, Robin Anne Smith, who passed away in 2013 is an inspiration to me. My beloved partner, Dana is also a great support and inspiration to me. I'd be remiss if I did not mention my cats: Maxwell, Nigel, Pirouette and GarGar.
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