I've been kinda wrathful towards grapes

Rainy season has started in earnest here. Or so they tell me. There doesn't seem to too much extra rain going around, it's a little harder, yes, and a little more frequent but I'm not sure if a rise in the average humidty deserves a seperate distinction. When looking at the hirearchy of time divisions, season is a pretty strong word. Certainly it's not as long as a year, and perhaps a decade or an 'age' carries more emotional weight. Nevertheless, I believe that by their cyclical nature that a season certainly carries more punch, because while the psychological connections with decades and such may be more focused and stronger, a season's are constant, and within a cultural subset, these connections are generally the same for any given person, allowing a reference point that stands the test of centuries. So, yeah, I don't know if a couple of downpours is worthy of wearing the mantle of 'season'.
In other frustration I tried to drink a grape soda the other week. A couple lessons before break I was parched and headed over to the vending machine. The peach juice I like was in stock, but I decided to be adventurous try that grape-type beverage that I'd been dithering about whether or not to try. I purchased it, brought it back to the office, titled it back and only a trickle came out of the can. The can seemed heavy, and solid. I tried to drink again with equal success and decided to apply some suction. I then discovered that it was not liquid in the can at all, but a can full of 'jell-o' or a 'jell-o' like product. It is beyond me why a company could stay in business selling small mouthed cans of fruit jelly with no straws or spoons attached. I've learned my lesson about reading packaging and looking for pictures of spoons on the label (see right).
And, as I get into the swing of doing this as blogging and not just keeping an online journal, I'd like to add a link to a blog I found catalouging cats that look like Hitler.