John Spencer, the cat

  John Spencer (named after Jon Spencer, o'course) is Dance's cat.  He's 12 if he's a day, and I have fond memories of stuffing him into my shirt, or into plastic bags back in the day.  He liked it, oh yes he did!  Oh yes he did!  So he went missing a few months back, and, thanks to some heroic postering efforts on Dance's part, he was re-found three months and many miles later/away, skinny in a park.  He's turned into a lap cat, and he meows like a baby human.  He was also very interested in our balcony jam-session.  We played some Avett Brothers, of course.  Then John Spencer stuck out his tongue.  Silly cat.  Good ol cat.  Good ol whitehands 'Pence.
  I'm thinking this blog isn't quite the same without the underpinning of everyday Korea anger roiling just below the surface.  We'll see.  Here's a picture of some pizza I ate!  What?