Comments on: PMC 200: Maria Bamford

By: FellHarbor

FellHarbor — Tue, 19 Jul 2016 15:14:47 +0000

First want to say Congratulations on 200 episodes! I started listening at maybe episode 10 or so. You guys had me at Beefaroni! Always making me laugh. It makes me so sad to hear that people say mean things about Vanessa – she reminds me a lot of my older sister with her wit ‘n whimsy. Here’s to 200 more. 🙂 Now for the Firsts question:

My first animal love was actually my 3rd pet. 1st was a Guinea Pig named Cindy, 2nd was a turtle named Harold. Then came Whiskers, my black-and-white kitty. He literally followed me home one day when I was 6 (Oct 1986), and he was with me every day of my life until his passing (Dec 2006). Grade school, high school, college; numerous moves. His ashes are in a small box on a shelf in my bedroom, sitting on his favorite blanket (one that I crocheted for him when I was 10). I have several new fur babies now, but Whiskers will always be in my heart. <3

By: Brandon Rueb

Brandon Rueb — Mon, 29 Feb 2016 06:15:47 +0000

The first pet I fell in love with was a calico cat named Serenity. She was a gift as I entered sobriety and started dealing with my own issues. She was with me during an intense seperation and when the girl and I reconnected and got married. She was my rock for many years.

This podcast is actually where I first truly discovered Maria Bamford and learned how important honesty is in dealing with mental and emotional health.
And as a true kid of the 90’s and a pop culture nerd the both of you are always smile inducing.

Cheers!

By: Allen Williams

Allen Williams — Mon, 29 Feb 2016 06:00:48 +0000

The first pet I fell in love with (and had) was a cat that we named Egon (yes, after Egon Spengler, may he rest in peace). Egon was an awesome cat. I don’t remember anything specifically that he did but, nevertheless, an awesome cat. Then, when I was around 6 or 7, my parents let me know that he had to go to a farm with other cats. I never questioned it, as you shouldn’t, and I can only assume that, since I’m 33, Egon has spent the last 26 or 27 years hanging out on that farm and having a great time. Why do I feel like I need a hug right now?