After several minutes of reported terror and chaos in the kitchen, sources now confirm that Mr. Catty Boom Boom has chowed through all the cupcakes. Two dozen chocolate patisseries had been open to all fellow residents as of Saturday night, when Dave brought them back from the wedding he catered. Long a topic at this morning’s wake and bake, the sudden depletion of the cupcake surplus has pushed a long-seeded resentment to surface. 

Distraught locals responded to the news in shock, many beleagured by remorse after looking so forward to a “massive munchies sesh” following this bong rip. 

Every cupcake is gone, and there’s nothing left but a giant crumby mess full of hair, and what a appears to be the first of many vomit deposits in the corner. 

It is not the first time that the feline, colloquially known as “Meowsers,” has engaged in such buzzkill antics. He is also known for his tendency to walk through Tombstone pizzas and get his head stuck in open cereal boxes.

“In about 15 minutes we’re gonna be cleaning up some pretty rank hairball explosions,” said dismayed cheefing circle guest Kyle, as he choked out a huge rip.

Tensions between Meowsers and the resident community had reached a burdensome peak as of last month, when everyone had to pitch in a few hundred dollars each to pay for exploratory abdominal surgery, due to an near-death incident in which the culprit tried to eat and digest a nerf dart.

“We had to give up smaking to just to save his life,” said an irritated Jordan, of upstairs. “He’s just such a derp.”

Mr. Catty’s co-dweller Haley is constantly grossed out when he “spreads eagle” on the sofa to “swab his unmentionables,” but says she may have some glazed donuts out in her car.

Man, this one has been striking the right chord since it found its way to me last week. It's like the Cactus Blossoms, if there were only one Burkum brother, combined with a Shakey Graves aesthetic and a little lo-fi Lord Huron thrown in, from a dude who looks like David Crosby crossed with how Aaron Rodgers is probably gonna look by August if not sooner. But three and a half out of four ain't bad! 

Dean Johnson's debut is over a decade in the making, and Nothing for Me, Please is well worth a wait I never knew I was partaking in. It's befitting some summer front porch sitting with a cold glass of lemonade, a road trip into the forever horizon through Wyoming, or sipping a whiskey while conversing in a dirty saloon. All of which to say, Johnson's tunes are a soundtrack for when you're in no hurry to go anywhere or accomplish anything in particular. When music slows life down, count me in. This Seattleite sounds at home on the range as he assuredly nestles his way into listeners' hearts. I'll take at least one of Nothing for Me, Please.