Month: November 2007

Jane got fed up with the month-long writing thing and how people bitch about having to write every day (WE’RE A THIRD OF THE WAY THROUGH THE MONTH, WOOOOOOO!), so she offered up some subjects to write about. Which I have stolen for my own self, just for shits and giggles. Write about your day! My day… hasn’t really gotten started. I’m going to go kick my own ass on the elliptical and then I’m going to clean the house from top to bottom and then I’m going to refuse to cook dinner in hopes that I can have the turkey sandwich and salad bar combo at Ruby Tuesday’s and in between there will be plenty o’ kitten snuggling. Analyze your cat! Spot: Neurotic, old, always starving to death, makes me want to kick him when he squeaks incessantly at me when I’m standing in the kitchen. Always ratty-looking, always needs a good brushing even when he just had one. The gentleman of the bunch unless you get between him and some food. Spanky: Spazzy, oldish, will talk back to you if you “mrowr!” at him. Very soft, silky fur. LOATHES the can of compressed air. Such a sweetheart, but so not the brains of the operation. Miz Poo: My bebbe, but good CHRIST she annoys me when she climbs all over me and rubs her nose on me. I like waking up to find her curled up against me, purring loudly. Mister Boogers: Douchebag who has not left the back yard since Fred figured out how he was doing it. HA! Also, if he is curled up against my legs at night and I accidentally touch him, he growls bitchily at me, and then I kick him off the bed, ’cause Momma don’t play that. Sugarbutt: Secretly my favorite, but don’t tell anyone. The happiest cat ever, patient and sweet and kind of a badass when he needs to be. Tommy: The ambassador. He puts up with shit from the other cats that he doesn’t have to. I mean, he stands up for himself if he has to, but for the most part the other cats tromp all over him, and he doesn’t care. Everyone’s friend. Stinkerbelle: Soft, silky fur like Spanky’s. Bitchy little thing who secretly wants to be loved but is scared of everything. Except the other cats – she won’t hesitate to start a fight with any other cat. Maxi/ Miss Momma: All teeth and claws. She wants to be petted, but is overwhelmed quickly and brings out the claws. She wants in… no, she wants out. No, in. Out! In, please? OUT! OUT! She’s a badass, but she backs down when the other And3rson kitties try to start something. Newt: Sweet, shy, a little nervous about being inside. Just a little food and a belly rub, please. An excellent hunter, our Monsieur Newtles. Tell me what you had for dinner and why! We had subs for dinner last night because it was Friday night and we almost never eat home cookin’ on Friday nights. Bitch about television! I actually didn’t know much about the writer’s strike ’til recently, so I went and educated myself about it, and… eh. Whatever. There are so many shows I want to check out (that are available on DVD) that if everything goes into reruns it’s not going to hit me too hard. I’m peeved that they’ve canceled 24, though, I’ll tell you that. Recount a celebrity sighting! Many years ago, my sister, her then-boyfriend and I went to see the Rock Bottom Remainders at the Maine State Theater in Portland. When we came out, we got our car and pulled around the side of the building so that we were near the alley that led to the back door. As we sat there, Stephen and Tabitha King walked across the street to the hotel, and someone up the street yelled “Mr. King!* An autograph?” and Stephen King yelled “Sorry, no!”, and they went into the hotel. Then we sat there, and not long after, a minivan came out of the alley, and Dave Barry was in it, so we followed it, and then we lost it, and then I do believe we got stopped by a cop, but I don’t remember why. An illegal u-turn or speeding, I’d guess. All I remember is saying to the cop “Do you know who Dave Barry is?” in trying to explain what we were doing. *I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again – the only correct way to address a celebrity is by their first and last name. “Stephen King”, not “Mr. King” or “Steve.” “Jennifer Lopez”, not “J. Lo.” “Britney Spears”, not “Skanky Ho.” Etc. Talk about your first date. It’s interesting that this is one of the questions. Recently, my first boyfriend (with whom I had my first date) friended a friend on MySpace (he remembered her from high school), and she told me about it and so I friended him, and he did not friend me back. And I was all, what the hell, man? I’m just curious what he’s up to, why is he not friending me so I can see his profile? And then I remembered that he was kind of a douchebag back then, and also when he kissed, he’d come at me with his mouth open wide and his jaw all unhinged and his tongue sticking out and he broke up with me AT SCHOOL and I was so distraught I had to leave and go home for half the day (because I was only heartbroken for half a day, not the entire day because he wasn’t THAT much of a heartbreaker) and mere days after he broke up with me he was dating a girl who lived up the street from me (and COINCIDENTALLY he had just given her a ride home the week before he broke up with me) and really, he was just an all-around ass, so I remembered that and I shrugged and forgot about him ’til just now. I hope he’s done some work on his Predator-like kissing technique, for the sake of the wimmins in Maine. Anyway, first date. We went to the movies and then he brought me home and we talked for a while and he criticized some poetry I had written (douchebag) and then he left and did not kiss me goodnight, the end. Where were you born? What story did your mom tell you about it? On the Air Force base in Bangor, Maine – I’m sure the base had a name, but I don’t know what it was. All I know is that it was the coldest day of the year. I’m sure she’s told me other things, but that’s all that sticks in my memory. What was your first pet’s name! For my 7th (I think) birthday, when we were living on Guam, I got a little black kitten and named her Suzy. Suzy was a hussy and got pregnant pretty quickly and had herself a litter. We kept one – an orange tabby I named Charlie, who would kick off my lifelong love of orange tabbies – and my mother found homes for the other kittens. Suzy went to live on a farm. I have NO idea if she truly went to live on a farm or not, and honestly I don’t want to know, thank you. Charlie was a sweet little whiny baby who I loved with all my heart, and then one night he just never came home. Poor Charlie.

* * * The other evening, Newt was sniffing around outside the foster kitten room. He kept sticking his paw under the door and the kittens seemed all interested, so I opened the door and coaxed Newt into the room. He did a lap of the room, sniffing at everything and eating a little kitten food, but then the kittens got to be too much, and he went to the door and gave me a pleading look until I let him out. Guaranteed, if it had been Miz Poo, she would have hissed and smacked all those little kittens before she high-tailed it for the door. *************************** “Pls not to be looking at me unless it is snackin’ time, thx.” * * * Previously 2006: I guess you can teach an old Fred new tricks. 2005: Can’t a girl be a dumbass without the whole world going into an uproar about it? 2004: For once, he had no good comeback. 2003: “Oh yeah. I hate this feeling. I should have just had a Diet Coke.” 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: No entry. 1999: Can you tell this irks me? ]]>

Here’s a cat question for you…..my male cat Tigger is about 15 years old, has always had good health, suddenly starting pooing on the floor last year. These poos were very dry and hard. Took him to the vet, nothing apparently wrong. I changed his diet to a brand of dry food that had the highest moisture content I could find (incidentally it is labeled as an indoor cat food). I give him fresh water daily so that was not the problem and he seemed to be drinking lots of it. Now a couple of days ago I found a stool on the floor, same thing, hard and dry. I started giving him half a can of wet food a day and so far no more stools on the floor. The problem is that no one except Tigger loves the smell of wet cat food. Any thoughts? I’ve been thinking that he’s not drinking as much lately but I don’t know what to do to make him drink more. (Oh I forgot to mention that after I changed his food last year his stools went back to normal. Oh and the vet had absolutely no good ideas at all, he was thinking more that it was a litter box problem where I think it is a diet thing.) Then reader Marian said: Jen, I’ve had the same problem with my very old Archie. Every now and then, usually when I’ve run out of the wet cat food and have given him only the dry stuff, there are hard dry poos on the floor that he’s kicked out of the litter box. (So hard they fly in the air — yuck!) He does drink water, though — he even likes to get into the shower after one of us has showered and drinks the water that puddles around the drain. It isn’t a behaviour problem, it’s an aging-cat problem. And I think I agree with her. Spot has the same issue, with the dry poo – he’s about 13 – and we haven’t changed his food. If you can stomach continuing to give him half a can of wet food a day, it sounds like it’s working for him. You might want to try giving him some Omega 3 oil just to see if it helps, as well. We buy our Omega 3 oil at the pet store; most pet stores carry them, and most cats enjoy the taste enough that they don’t fight you too much.

* * * I have a question for the cat expert. We have a cat at the office. She was there living under the building when we all (the people I work with and for) first came there and was wild WILD WILD. But she gentled down over a period of time and now she is the office kitty although she lives outside. Last winter I made her a house with bedding when it got cold and wet outside. So this is the only home she’s ever known. The problem: In the next 2-3 months we are moving. The owners are building a new office about a mile away. It will be along a much busier street and closer to the street. How can we make her transition safe and stress free? Several of us have talked about making her an inside cat. Any suggestions? Given that you’re moving to a busier location, if you could possibly make her an inside cat, that would be ideal. If you can’t, though, there’s a really good article here on how to relocate feral cats. * * * This section is all about TV shows, so skip to the next section if you’re not interested, okay? Oh and why was it (I just started watching a few episodes back) that the mom of the daughter who graduated (aside from being fucked up) didn’t gather the brother with her for the graduation? I mean, why was he “allowed” to miss it in the first place. All us siblings went to one another’s things. No questions asked! That’s Colton you’re referring to, who didn’t go to Kara’s graduation. They’re both kids of Jeana, and their oldest brother is Shane, who is a great big dickhead. I don’t know why on earth Jeana didn’t just grab Colton and take him to the graduation ceremony with her, but I get the distinct feeling that most of the “housewives” aren’t aware of where their kids are on any kind of regular basis. I love the Real Housewives! I cannot drag myself away from it. Did you see any of the marathon that was on on Sunday? I caught some of it. When I have it on and my husband sits down to watch some TV, he does nothing but complain about what a stupid show it is, who cares what those women with too much make up are doing, they all look like they’ve had plastic surgery, oh come on real people don’t live like that, etc., etc., etc. I end up turning it, but it’s tough, it’s like a train wreck, I can’t look away. Do you think I used enough commas in this comment? Also, I thought of something else about the Real Housewives. Do you think Lauri’s lips look like they need chapstick or something? Her lips gross me out. Maybe too much botox on her wrinkles. I don’t know, there just is something not right about her lips. What are your thoughts on this? I didn’t watch the Sunday marathon ’cause I’ve seen all the episodes – and I didn’t know there was a marathon, or surely I would have at least caught the one with Jo becoming a “singer”. All I have to say is if that song becomes a hit, I’m going to record and sell The Snackin’ Song, and Britney can WATCH OUT. All the housewives have clearly had some sort of plastic surgery or another, but Lauri is just nipped and tucked and plasticized to within an inch of her life. Her lips and nose really bother me, but just look at her when she talks – her face does NOT MOVE. It’s scary. The stuff of nightmares, really. I told a friend the other day that if I was in any of the relationships on Tell Me You Love Me, I would stab myself to death. Who would ever want to be with that one broad. Palek’s wife. Or Palek for that matter. He’s got a little kid skinny lipped mouth. I’m going to keep watching it because I’m hopeful there will be an exciting plot twist and everyone will die. Oh, and what about the therapist and her husband? Their conversations seem to consist of her saying “My patient (whoever) was in, and I told him that things would get better, but he’d have to persevere and maybe one day he’d have a marriage as perfect and full of life as ours” and her husband responding with “I remember when we had our hard times. I’m glad we have a full and satisfying marriage. They are young and foolish and we are old and wise.” and then they have some awkward sex. I cannot STAND Palek. He’s got the world’s most smackable face, and the only time I can stand Carolyn’s face is when I see it in pictures. They’re the perfect irritating couple. I nominate Hugo to team up with Carolyn’s sister and go on a killing spree. As they lay dying, May (the therapist) could grab her husband’s hand and say “I’m so thrilled that we found our way to a fulfilling relationship – unlike these other losers – before we died.” I am tickled that the Race is back 🙂 The only new show I am paying any attention to at all is “Pushing Daisies” and even it after being so very good for two or three weeks even it is starting to wear kind of thin now. and My question: Is it just me? Is there ANYTHING good on tv right now? I’m also thrilled that The Amazing Race is back – and I have to confess that though I mocked the Emo couple through the entire first show, I don’t actually find them all that annoying. DAMNIT. I really wanted to hate them! What we’re watching on TV these days: The Amazing Race, Survivor (I’m sorry, but that bit on last week’s episode when whatsherface thought she had the immunity idol and she didn’t was the BEST THING EVER. I did feel bad for her when everyone else was laughing at her, I’ll admit. And I don’t think it was very nice of Jeff Probst to get her hopes up and then toss it in the fire. MEAN.), Kid Nation (notice how Taylor has pretty much disappeared from the show?), Journeyman, My Name is Earl, Scrubs, Reaper, Kitchen Nightmares, and The Biggest Loser. I usually read during Reaper because it’s cute, but not so cute I want to pay attention to it. I read through The Biggest Loser too, because all I’m interested in is seeing the weigh-in at the end, and they’re stretching those shows so much it’s ridiculous. On my own, I watch Tell Me You Love Me (and I cringe a lot while I watch it, yet I keep watching. WHY? I don’t know.), Desperate Housewives (I stopped watching it toward the end of last season, but I’m enjoying this season), How I Met Your Mother (LOVE that show), The Real Housewives of Orange County, ER, Grey’s Anatomy, Brothers and Sisters, Weeds, and Nip/Tuck. I think I’m about to give up Nip/Tuck, though, because it’s really not holding my interest, even if Christian does saunter around nekkid half the time. Shows I like that aren’t running right now: Big Love, Army Wives, Lost, 24, Work Out annnnd… other shows I can’t remember. We gave Pushing Daisies a try, but didn’t really care for it (too cute). We also tried Chuck and liked it, but not enough to keep watching it. We watched Moonlight (is that the right name? The detective who was a vampire?), but gave up pretty quickly, because it’s pretty horrid. Have you ever thought of starting a TV forum???? Seems to me you had a TV blog at some point, but it kind of died out. I’ve considered it from time to time, but I don’t know, I’m afraid I’d get bored with it. Would anyone be interested in taking part on a TV forum? I wouldn’t want to be the only one posting to it! * * * What are you holding in the photo of you in the upper left corner of your masthead? I’ve looked at it and looked at it and can’t figure it out. It’s a Paslode butane-powered finishing nailer. That’s what Fred calls it – I just call it a nail gun. * * * What kind of antihistamine can you give a cat? It’s called Chlorpheniramine. When Sugarbutt was having itchy eye issues, we gave him the pills to help, and it did. Mister Boogers has allergies in the Fall (he gets a bit sniffly), and a pill will usually clear that up. It’s cheap as hell – we got a big bottle at WalMart – and it works really well with allergies and itchiness. We start with half a pill once or twice a day, and if that doesn’t clear things up, we go to a whole pill. That’s on adult, full-sized cats; I don’t think we’ve ever given any to kittens, so I don’t know what the dosing would be for them. * * * How many readers do you have? It seems that most of the sites I visit reference you occasionally so I was curious. According to Sitemeter, I get between 1200 and 1500 people visiting Monday through Friday, with about half that on Saturday and Sunday. That would be because SO MANY of you are slacking at work. I’m just happy to help you get through your boring-ass work day. Now go tell your boss you love him or her and ask for a raise. * * * So would you tag the ones you’d eat or keep them separate from the others? (That’s regarding the chickens.) I’m not sure if we’re going to keep them separate or not – Fred’s going to do some reading up on that. If we put them together, we shouldn’t have any problems telling them apart, because our meat chickens will be a different kind than the ones we currently have, at least according to Fred. I’d tell you what kind of meat chickens we’re talking about getting, but I can’t remember. Luckily, Fred’s in charge of that information, so I don’t have to worry my pretty little head. * * * How do you plan on killing them? If I might suggest, you could put on some Lawrence Welk music after making them ingest lethal amounts of ecstasy, put them in a small hot room with KFC commercials running continuously. They will get so upset and excited and overheated they will just go POOF and cook themselves. Yeah, I’m thinking some ecstasy-laden chicken would be TASTY. I plan on killing them by making Fred do all the dirty work. At least in my dreams that’s how I plan on killing them. I try not to think about the actual killing too much, though. * * * About the seatbelt: my friend has a Ford something or other truck that does the same annoying “you’re not wearing your seatbelt” ding. She told me you press the seatbelt release latch, like you’re unbuckling the belt, and magically the dinging went away! Or I went deaf from the dinging, but either way…no more dinging! Worth a shot, right? Also: Not sure if this will work for you – but it might…my boyfriend’s truck does the same thing with the seatbelt reminders. If you hit the button on the seatbelt (the release button) that shuts his up. I gave this a try last night, and it worked like a charm. Yay! * * * I remember I hated my 1988 Taurus because they put the seat belts on for you and if you weren’t ready, it could quickly become ugly. My Ford Tempo had those same freakin’ seat belts, and I HATED them. It’s just such a pushy feature, “YOU WILL WEAR A SEATBELT WHETHER YOU WANT TO OR NOT! SUBMIT!” I used to wait ’til the seat belt was in place, then tuck it behind me. Stupid bossy car. * * * 1) We readers have gotten so much out of your journal over the years. (Thank you, thank you!!) I’m just wondering if there are any ways you feel journaling has benefited you? I know that counselors, Oprah, etc., always advise keeping a journal for a number of reasons. How do you think a long-term journal like this has affected your life? It’s become such an ingrained part of my day that on the rare occasion I take time off from journaling, I feel kind of at loose ends. When certain things happen – interesting or funny things – I get excited at the idea of writing about it. But the biggest thing my journal has given me is a way to figure out when certain things happened in my life. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve wondered when something happened, had NO idea, and did a quick search on my site to find out. I know it’s ridiculous that I have to do a search on my site to figure out, say, when Fred tried to poison me or when the Downfall of Senator Stanley J. Boogerton happened, but it’s been immeasurably helpful. 2) You always seem so upbeat and forward-thinking — I know you joke about being crabby, but I always think of you as upbeat. Is there anything that ever gets you down? Oh sure, there are things that get me down, but for the most part I’m pretty upbeat. Most of the stuff that gets me down is stuff beyond my control – assholes coming out of nowhere to shit all over my day – and that someone can invade my day and stress me out pisses me off. I have the occasional hormonal couple of “MY LIFE SUCKS” days every month, but once I’m able to realize what’s going on, I can get past it – or deal with it a little better. 3) I must have missed this in the house remodeling journal entries — did you and Fred put up the crown molding yourselves? Was it difficult to do? Was it expensive? Yeah, we did the crown molding ourselves – or I guess I should say, Fred did it, I just stood there and held the crown molding where he told me to hold it. It was a huge pain in the ass because it took him a long time to figure out how to do it the right way, and we talked several times about hiring professionals to do it, but in the end we did it all ourselves and I think it looks really good. It was way less expensive to do it ourselves rather than hire professionals. We got the crown molding from a local lumber company, then I painted it before he cut it and we put it up. I don’t know that he’d ever want to do it again, but he could if he had to! * * * I still think you take the best cat pictures ever! I don’t know how you do it. I can’t even get my cat to look at the camera. Anyway, question for Friday—have you ever thought of doing a cat picture book? Your captions make some of them so funny! I know I, for one, would lurv to have a book of your cat pics. Well, thank you! I haven’t really seriously considered doing a cat picture book, but I do think about it from time to time. I have to think about it some more before I actually go to the effort of pulling all the pictures I’d use and getting together a book proposal, though. I’m the queen of procrastination. * * * It’s such a good thing that The Cats That Aren’t Yours now sleep in your house. That will make for an easier winter, don’t you think? I’d say so, and we’ll certainly worry about them a lot less if they’re snuggled up in the house instead of out wandering around in the night. It’s gotten to the point where if one or the other disappears after snack time and doesn’t show back up before bedtime then has to spend the night outside, I’m all “What the hell? Is our house not GOOD ENOUGH for them?!” * * * Question about Maxi and Newt. Don’t you live fairly close to the road? Do they not go near it? We do live fairly close to the road – closer than I’d like, really – but I’ve never ever seen either of them anywhere near the road. Hopefully they’re smart enough to stay away from the road, because I’d sure hate to find one of them injured or dead by the side of the road. * * * So, of all the matchbox cars you’ve purchased, which one do you like better: The Aerio, the Reno or the Accent? I really REALLY miss E’gar the Aerio, and I wish a lot that I hadn’t given him to the spud. I would have to say that I liked the Aerio the best, and the Accent comes in a fairly close second. I’m not crazy about the Reno at all and don’t particularly recommend it, but it’s paid off, so I’ll be keeping it for at least a few more years. * * * Did you ever get your new DVD player from the satellite dish folks? NO. And I’m not holding my breath – but it also hasn’t been six weeks since Fred last talked to them, either. He’ll happily keep harassing them until they give up and send us the damn thing out of self-preservation. * * * Just finished taking the house tour. Is it my imagination, or did you change the knobs on the kitchen cabinets? I know you didn’t replace the cabinet fronts, but they look totally fresh and appeared to be sporting new knobs. Nope, not your imagination at all! I absolutely loathed the kitchen cabinets when we first bought the house, and was working hard on Fred to make that the first big change, getting new cabinets. But I decided to try switching out the knobs, and it’s absolutely amazing what changing from white ceramic knobs to dark copper metal knobs can make. It’s a thousand times better, and I will happily live with the cabinets for at least a few more years. (I do want to get new ones eventually, though – the ones we have are so awkward and hard to organize that we need something better.) * * * Robyn, do you read or watch TV in bed? I read in bed, usually for half an hour at night and sometimes for a while in the morning. In fact, sometimes I get up in the morning, putter around, and then go back to bed for an hour and read – I did that yesterday. I don’t have a TV in the bedroom, but very occasionally I’ll download something from iTunes to the laptop and lay in bed and watch it. That’s happened maybe twice since I moved into this house. * * * In your monumental pile of books, did you ever get around to reading Outlander? I know you said it was on your radar screen at some point in the past. I haven’t read it yet, but it is on my bookcase – it’s on the second shelf of my bookcase, so I’d say it’s about 25 books from the top of my queue. * * * Question… of the utmost blinding importance— wait for it… Do you know the name of the font used in the “Beware” part of your banner? I love that old victorian loopy kind of script !! I haven’t got a clue, but Carol made it, so she might remember. Carol? Do you? * * * Hi mom! I have a question. Tell everyone what you think of the new law that they just passed to ban sex toys ^_^ I just heard about that. (and then Amanda said) Ha! Your daughter is a skimmer! INDEED she is. Spud, I wrote about that very thing in this entry. Pay attention! * * * What happened to Sadie the dog? She went back to the Humane Society because (I’m just cutting and pasting from the entry about it): she, Fred, and the spud were out back playing, and the dog made a point of running at the spud – who was laying on a blanket – and running OVER her, leaving a gash on the side of her head. It was the last straw, really – Sadie wouldn’t listen to anyone but Fred, and was so unruly and uncontrollable that we really had no choice. Not to mention that I really hated having her outside all the time. Fred can say what he likes, but I don’t think that a dog should be outside all the time. * * * Amber must have been reading your previous entries because I have and I have the same question — what happened to the dog??? (I seem to recall his incompatibility with the And3erson cats forced his exile to a new family — and life on a farm, if I recall correctly.) That’s a different dog, actually – the one who went after Spot and required finding a new home was Jake, and that was back in January. I’ve come to accept that we simply aren’t dog people. I think dogs are fine – in other peoples’ homes, and I certainly like visiting them – and I have nothing against dogs. But just as some people aren’t cat people, we aren’t dog people. * * * Are you going to be doing the giveaways again anytime soon? Yeah, probably in the next week or so. I just have to get my ass in gear and get it done! I’ll probably do one or two this month, then stop until after Christmas. * * * I swear it was you who talked about making apple crisp, wasn’t it? I looked in your recipes and it’s not there. Can you share it if it was you? I don’t remember talking about apple crisp, but I’ve been thinking a lot about it – Fall makes me want to have apple crisp at least once, and I haven’t made any this year, but I’ve mentioned it to Fred several times. Here’s the recipe I use, from the Marjorie Standish cookbook Cooking Down East. I’ll put it in the recipe section later today when I get a chance. Apple Crisp Place in buttered baking dish: 4 cups sliced apples Sprinkle with: 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1 teaspoon salt 1/4 cup water Combine: 3/4 cup sifted all-purpose flour 1 cup sugar 1/3 cup butter Use pastry blender for mixing flour, sugar and butter. Turn mixture over apple slices. Bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes. Serve warm with cream, ice cream or sauce. Serves 6. * * * we had the pig when i lived in Memphis. i remember once i was in the parking lot with my 3 year old son waiting on my mom to finish shopping. the mr. pigman was standing on a very busy street, waving at the cars. a gust of went sent him reeling across the parking lot and he almost fell into the street. the dudes at the bus stop said, “get your m***** f****** pork a$$ out of the street!” the next time we went shopping with my sainted christian mother-in-law, my son asked if we were going to the m***** f****** pork a$$ store. i thought my mother-in-law was going to shit a brick. ah, such lovely memories of piggly wiggly, a true southern tradition! I’ve said “Get your motherfucking pork ass out of my way!” to Fred a few times this week. I think I’m going to make it a regular part of our lives because it cracks me UP. * * * I ADORE the way you can see her tangle of whiskers in this picture. Jesikat fighting with my foot. Good times! Rhian, perturbed. Spooky in the sun. Rhian up close. Jesikat, hanging out under the dresser. ************************** “Pls do not disturb unless it is snackin’ time, thx.” * * * Previously 2006: “Damn pansy-ass city folk.” 2005: as a customer and a HUMAN, I outrank the computer, and I’d like a little RESPECT, thank you. 2004: All this cleaning is making me lightheaded. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: Little things make me happy. 1999: Guest entry by Fred.]]>

Downtown Girls: The Hookers of Hawaii (what? We love those HBO documentaries!), and in case you don’t want to click on that link, I’ll tell you that it’s about four male-born prostitutes in Honolulu. One of them has had sexual reassignment surgery, two of them haven’t but want to, and one hasn’t and doesn’t want to. In any case, it was certainly interesting. But it was while they were showing the six hundredth closeup of “Barbie-Q”s ass that I came up with a most excellent idea. You know how they sell shorts for girls that have writing across the ass that say “Juicy” and whatever else? They should totally sell shorts for older women that say “Saggy” and “Flabby.” I know I’d buy a pair. The documentary was interesting, but I don’t know who the filmmaker’s got doing those incredibly cheesy introductory segments – I suspect it’s the filmmaker himself – but they need to GO. They’re incredibly cheesy and don’t add a damn thing (except cheesiness) to the show.

* * * Those of you who suggested in yesterday’s comments that I read The Omnivore’s Dilemma, rest assured that though I haven’t read it yet, I do own it and will be reading it long before it comes time to slaughter any chickens. I’m looking forward to it! * * * Know what I hate? (You: “Everything?”) I hate it when you subscribe to a magazine, and THREE YEARS before your subscription is up, the magazine is fucking HOUNDING you at least once a week, trying to get you to extend your subscription. And as a special offer, you can get a FREE one-year subscription to the same magazine to give as a gift! Woo! Hoo! I think it’s utterly ridiculous, considering that my subscription is good through the end of 2010, that Self Magazine is sending me mail telling me about this super-duper offer where I can give a one-year gift subscription to someone AND extend my own subscription by a year for the AMAZING two-for-one price! Well, I’ve been suckered into giving the free one-year gift subscription in the past, and you know what happens? Right around March, the goddamn magazines start harassing you to extend the gift subscription or the person with whom you gifted the one-year subscription might miss out! And it’s not JUST Self Magazine, it’s pretty much every goddamn magazine I subscribe to – and I subscribe to a LOT of magazines – and it’s really pissing me off that every time I go out to get the mail, I have a pile of “Hurry! Offer ends soon!” and “Special 2-for-1 price!” bullshit. Why I subscribe to so many goddamn magazines, I don’t know. I’m perpetually behind in reading them, and often times when I get around to reading an issue of People, we’ve swung from sympathy-for-Britney to god-Britney-is-a-boozing-whore and back again. I should just cancel all the subscriptions I have and read the same shit online, but I can’t help it. I have a magazine addiction! * * * I watched the first episode of Real Housewives of Orange County (Season 3!) yesterday, and there was this part that totally made me splutter. It involved Vicki, the super-spazzy control-freak “housewife” and her daughter, Briana. Vicki says “Briana is such a good kid, I’m getting her a new car!”, so she goes and gets her a BMW, I think, and she shows up at Briana’s apartment and honks the horn ’til Briana comes out, and she’s all “It’s a new car! For you!” and Briana’s all “Shut UP!”, but she’s NOT acting excited, most likely because she’s thinking “Whaaaaat’s the catch, Control-Freak Momma?” and Vicki’s all jumping around screaming and “Aren’t you excited, Briana?!” and just as Briana gets suckered in and is all “Hey, this is kind of cool!” Control-Freak Momma says “Yeah, I got it for you! I mean, you’ll be making the payments every month, but it’s yours!” And there’s a pop-up on the screen that tells us that the monthly payments will be $375, and I was all “Um, wha?” You go and get a car “for” someone and then are all “Yeah, but you can make the payments! Buh-bye!”? What kind of shit is THAT? I’d be all kinds of royally pissed if someone said “I got you a car!” and then told me I had to make payments. That is not “getting” someone a car, that is BULLYING SOMEONE INTO DRIVING THE KIND OF CAR YOU WANT THEM TO DRIVE. What if Briana wanted a Mustang? What if she wanted a shitty little $2,000 car? I think she totally should have been “Yeah, I don’t think so, Control-Freak Momma. Buh-bye!”, but she admitted herself that she’s scared of her mother and wouldn’t dream of crossing her. That show is absolutely my number one guilty pleasure. * * * The foster kittens continue to do well. From the skittish bunch they were when we first got them, they’ve chilled out into pretty friendly ones. None of them care for being held, but they’ll put up with it for a minute or two, all of them except Deuce. Deuce prefers that his kitten-human bonding time involve him grabbing a finger with one of his claws and then pulling it (the finger) close so that he can lick and chew on it. He’s such a sweet guy, but definitely not a snuggler. They seem to do the majority of their running around at night. We sit and watch TV and can hear them directly overhead, rolling toys across the floor and thumping around like monkeys. Talk about your come-hither look! Malley in the sun. Fight! “No, I’m serious! There’s a pile of catnip THIS HIGH! We’ve gotta figure out how to get to it!” (Jesikat looks skeptical) Sweet little Peyton. Spooky in the sun. Malley in the sun. ********************* Yesterday evening I was in the kitchen cleaning up, and Tommy started dancing around making his whiny I’m-disturbed noises, so I looked up to see a wasp hovering around the ceiling light. I grabbed the fly swatter and started swatting at the wasp, and eventually it ventured into the path of the fly swatter and I smacked it like a tennis ball, and it went flying. I was standing in the middle of the kitchen looking for the wasp (they’re kind of hard to spot on a dark wood floor sometimes), when I heard Sugarbutt (who’d been hanging out on top of the cabinets) come racing around toward the refrigerator, then stop and sniff vigorously. He backed up suddenly, and started scrubbing at his face with one paw, so I grabbed the stepladder and climbed up to look on top of the cabinets, where I saw the wasp laying and kicking in a death-throes manner. I smacked it several times, then scooped it up with the swatter, climbed back down to floor level, and went and tossed it out to the chickens. (I don’t know if the chickens actually eat the wasps I toss out there, but they certainly get excited when I do it.) A few minutes later Sugarbutt came down from his perch and Fred got a close look at him, and told me he’d definitely been stung by the wasp, because one side of his mouth was all pink and swollen. Long story short (too late!), Fred gave him an antihistamine, and within the hour Sugarbutt was completely back to normal. Considering that the last time one of the cats was stung by a wasp (Miz Poo, several years ago), she ended up at the vet’s for the day and a large bill, I’m relieved. * * * Previously 2006: To prove that I have NO PRIDE WHATSOEVER, I post for your enjoyment a picture Rick took of me. 2005: It’s a fucking mystery. 2004: I seem to be a tad less fluttery today. 2003: No entry. 2002: Pictures. 2001: Fred in the dog house. Literally. 2000: I said “It’s a good thing you put your first AND last name, PLUS ‘your daughter’, otherwise I’d never have known!” 1999: Oddly, even though he’s had two doses of the antibiotic, he’s feeling worse instead of better. ]]>

* * * I watched Tell Me You Love Me yesterday (ball count: zero. In fact, was there any sex at all? I think maybe not, but I don’t remember for sure.), and the thing that bugs me about that show is how there’s just no warmth between any of the characters. They just all seem stiff and odd and uncomfortable with each other – am I the only one who thinks so? Maybe they’re all afraid that they’re going to be required to get nekkid and simulate sex at any moment, I don’t know. I like the show, but it makes me uncomfortable, even without the sex. It doesn’t help that Palek and whatsherface are the most unlikable couple on TV, either.

* * * Did I mention that since I’ve gotten good and fed up with the chickens trashing our back yard, Fred is going to build a bigger chicken coop (we sometimes have to get into the coop to get to the eggs in the back, and it’s not comfortable, squeezing in there) and we’re going to move the chickens to another location? We’re also talking about getting chickens for meat (yes, I am not looking forward to the killing of chickens in our back yard. I expect that there will be much crying and histrionics and vomiting – and that’s just Fred, har har – but I think that if we’re going to remain omnivores – and we are – and we intend to continue eating chicken – and we are – then I’d a thousand times rather eat a chicken who lived a happy life in our back yard and whose last thought was a puzzled “Hey, isn’t that the Food Guy? What’s that he’s got in his hand, some long-handled kind of food? I bet it’s YUMMY!” than a chicken who lived in fear and pain and crammed in a little cage and never knew what running through the grass, eating bugs and worms, and squawking at her sister is like. If we’re going to continue to eat chickens, and since we have the room, I think we should at least have the guts to raise and kill them ourselves, no matter how repugnant the slaughtering process will be. I nominate Fred to do all the slaughtering himself. All in favor say “aye”! Aye! Motion seconded! Motion carried! Think that’ll hold up?) and so we’ll need a bigger coop, as we’re hoping to integrate them. Or maybe we’re not. We’ve talked so much about the different possibilities that I can’t remember what we’ve decided, alls I know is that Fred will be building a bigger coop and a bigger yard, and we’re trying to decide where they should go. Once he’s completely finished with the shed and does a few small things for me, he’ll be starting on that. * * * GodDAMN is it cold here today. It got down to below 30 last night, and when I went out to exercise this morning I was wearing a pair of shorts and a Coolmax t-shirt and a sweatshirt, and my legs froze and snapped right off my body, which made doing the elliptical kind of difficult. But I persevered and did all 35 of those minutes, damnit! The issue with this house is that the two rooms where we spend the most time – the computer room, on the back of the house, and the living room, on the front of the house – aren’t very well insulated, and tend to get cold (and the fact that I open the back door so the cats can go outside probably doesn’t help the warmth situation in the computer room, either) and so I’m sitting here in a fleece shirt and very warm pants and socks, and I’m still shivering. I may need to go get the space heater out of the garage and bring it inside. I’m not as cold as I used to be, though, I’ll tell you that. Back when I was on whatever the fuck that medicine I was on to regulate my heartbeat (Metoprol0l? I think?), I was always always just painfully cold and y’all were always yelling at me to have my iron levels checked out. Ever since I went off the Metoprol0l, I still tend to be colder than Fred is, but it’s not as bad. THANK GOD. Now if I can just talk Fred into getting a pellet stove for the front room… * * * Malley in the sun. If I go into the kitten room between noon and 2:00, the room is flooded with sunlight, and the kittens are all laying on the floor, baking in the sun, purring so loud you can hear them from two rooms away. It’s seriously sweet. Rhian is just the prettiest thing. “What?” Snuggly brudders. ********************* Hard to believe that it wasn’t so very long ago that she looked like this, isn’t it? * * * Previously 2006: Questions answered. 2005: This makes me want to wrap my child in bubble wrap and lock her in her room until she’s 35. 2004: No entry. 2003: Meme. 2002: “How fucking much is that goddamn bread? A dollar ninety-fucking-five? Okay, put a couple of the motherfuckers in my cart, would you, fuckwad?” 2001: I briefly considered making a citizen’s arrest. 2000: (ie, “It’s all the fault of that fat bitch you married!”) 1999: I woke this morning at 2:30ish, feeling something wasn’t quite right. ]]>

* * * If you love the cheesefest known as The Real Housewives of Orange County, you need to know that season 3 starts tonight! And speaking of cheesy TV, I did bring the Footballers Wives dvd inside and try it out on the DVD player inside. It plays fine on that player, so we need to get a decent one for the garage. I said to Fred, “I expect you to take care of this”, and he just shrugged and wandered off. Bastard. I need my cheesy TV while I’m exercising, DAMNIT.

* * * I didn’t get a picture of it – I had no camera at hand – but the other night I was cleaning the kitchen, and when I was done I walked toward the computer room and on my way, I glanced into the laundry room, because I could hear the Litter Robot running. Newt was sitting, perfectly still, head cocked, watching the Litter Robot do its thing. Like it was Kitty TV or something. That Newt is about the cutest thing, and speaking of Newt (lately, I’ve been calling him “Monsieur Newtles” and Fred’s been calling him “Newt-a-lewt”) : The other night, he claimed Sugarbutt’s basket for himself. He’s good at that, claiming beds that other cats like to use for his own. For a cat who was absolutely terrified the first several times we lured him inside, he’s adapted far quicker than I would have imagined. Feet – or anything, really – moving around under the covers scare him, though. I had to get up at 4:00 the other morning to go to the bathroom, and Newt heard me get up and like a shot he was in the hallway, and as I walked by, he perked up and began walking in excited circles, obviously hoping that I was about to go let him outside so he could commence hunting. It was too early, though, so I just did my thing and went back to bed. When Fred got up an hour later, he let Newt and Maxi out like he usually does. When I got up, later, I opened my blinds to look out upon the day, and right outside my bedroom window, Newt was chewing on a dead bird. That’s an appetizing start to the morning. ********************** I looked out the window yesterday to see that Flappy McGee was roosting on the back of one of the chairs on the patio. I thought she looked pretty funny, so I went to the door to take her picture. She saw me coming, and since the chickens’ immediate reaction is that I MUST be bringing them food, she hopped down off the chair to run over to me. I got her in mid-hop. Looks like a bat, doesn’t she? ********************** I just adore that sweet little bright-eyed Rhian. She is SO FREAKIN’ CUTE. ::lick::lick::lick:: If Jesikat sharpens her claws, Deuce must run over and sharpen his, too. It’s the LAW. Snuggly Peyton. Deuce keeps an eye on me. Pretty Malley. ********************** Maxi makes herself at home. Previously 2006: With a squeak, she fell into the tub and just sat there for a moment with a look that very clearly said “Do you believe this shit?” 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: So, Jackie, how’s the weather up there in Vancouver Washington? 2002: My life. So very exciting. 2001: Instead, when the question was posed to him, he looked at me as if I were perhaps mentally deficient. 2000: Have I mentioned that I love that man? 1999: And when you’re not good at something, unless you’re hugely delusional, you pretty much know that you’re not good at it. Even if you don’t know, there’s always someone more than willing to point it out to you.]]>

it. EVERY DAY FOR THE MONTH OF NOVEMBER there will be an entry here. It might be short on content and long on pictures, but it’ll be HERE. Got it?

* * * I’m pleased to announce that I have finally finished the The O.C. disc that’s been sitting in the garage since April. Now I have to send it back to Netflix and get the next disc, and until that gets here, I have to find something else to watch. My friend Liz lent me the entire Footballers Wives series, and I put the first disc of the first season into the DVD player, but it wouldn’t play. I don’t know if the disc is too new (?) or the DVD player’s too old, but I think it’s high time we either get a decent DVD player for the garage or get a new one for the living room and move that one out to the garage. We no longer have the remote for the DVD player in the garage, and it’s a big pain in the ass to have to get off the elliptical when one episode ends and I have to go to the DVD player to start the next. Did you know that DVD players have “buttons” on the “front” to control the “menu”? I had no idea, myself. I thought if the remote was lost, you were screwed. Learn something new every day, dontcha? * * * My GOD I love turning the clocks back in the Fall. We turned the clocks back Saturday night at bedtime, and I stayed up ’til after 11:00 reading, then when I woke up all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to find it was light out, it was only 7:00. Okay, maybe I didn’t wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Maybe I woke up to yell at Sugarbutt for rattling the blinds (he had his collar on and could have gone out back, but no. NO. Dumbass had to look out the side windows, because it’s the best way to annoy me until I give up and get out of bed). In any case, I got up, it was 7:00, and it was bright and sunny out. By the time I got done with all the usual morning stuff – litter boxes, emptying the dish washer, doing the elliptical, putting laundry in – it wasn’t even noon yet, and I had nothing to do. I love days like that. So I slacked for the rest of the day, or at least for a few hours until it was time to make the sides for dinner (Fred was in the mood to use the smoker, so made some kind of pork and some kind of beef, and I suspect we’ll be eating those for about half the week. I love it when Fred smokes stuff, because it gives me at least a couple of days of no cooking, and that is NEVER a bad thing.). * * * Yesterday, late morning, Fred yelled “Holy shit! A hawk just flew across the back yard!” I grabbed the camera and ran out back. The girlz were huddled by the side of the house cackling to let us know that there was something amiss, and the hawk was sitting in one of the trees on the opposite side of the yard, eyeballing the girlz. Naturally, I grabbed the camera. (flickr) (flickr) (flickr) (flickr) Yesterday, late morning, Fred yelled “A hawk just flew across the back yard!” I grabbed the camera and ran out back. The hens were huddled by the side of the house cackling to let us know that there was something amiss, and the hawk was sitting in one of the trees on the opposite side of the yard, eyeballing the girlz. Naturally, I grabbed the camera. I think he didn’t like having me so close, because he took off pretty quickly for greener pastures. ********************* Snuggly sisters Rhian (left) and Jesikat. “Hey, come back here! I want to fight!” I just love this little cat, can you tell? Pretty Jesikat. Deuce. “I is in a box.” “What?” ********************* Rough life for a Spanky. Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: Did you think I was writing this from The Great Beyond? 2003: Wonder if I appear too old and feeble to help with the loading of the groceries. 2002: That’s your trivia fact for the day. You’re welcome! 2001: Amish country. 2000: No entry. 1999: Hey, this is some exciting stuff, isn’t it? What will I talk about next, dryer lint? Woohoo, somebody stop me!]]>

cleaning spray and cleaning rags, if you must know), then took a break to make breakfast for Fred and then for myself, ate breakfast, did some aimless surfing, then got back on it. After breakfast, it was just after 11:00, and I dusted the entire downstairs (I did the upstairs right before I vacuumed it), wiped down the kitchen counters, and then decided to rearrange and clean the shelf unit in the laundry room. Then I vacuumed the entire downstairs, cleaned the floor in the kitchen (cleaning spray and rags), and all of a sudden it was almost 1:30. I still have no idea how it ended up taking me so long to do the dusting, vacuuming, counter-wiping, and rearranging. If I had to guess, I’d say that should have taken only about an hour. Maybe I stopped and took a nap in the middle of it all, and have just forgotten? In any case, the house! Is! Clean! for another week! Woot! While I was cleaning, I was vacuuming in the dining room, and as I watched, two wasps came out of the fireplace and flew into the computer room. We’ve wondered where the fuck they’ve been coming from – and suspected that they’ve been coming down the chimney in the dining room – but it’s good to have confirmation of that suspicion. At this point I’m killing between four and six a day. The cats come in handy when it comes to wasps – they always perk up and run over to the general direction of where the wasp is, so I know where to go with my fly swatter. I’ve gotten so good at killing wasps that I can occasionally swat them out of mid-air with the swatter, like it’s a tennis racket and they are the ball, and I hit them hard enough that they’re dead before they hit the ground. I suspect that when I was little and would run in terror from any kind of bug at all, screaming “Beechie! Beechie!” (I have no idea where I came up with that name for bugs) no one would have EVER believed I’d be killing wasps several times a day without batting an eyelash.

* * * A few times last week, we had overnight guests. Maxi took the guest bed. Newt started out in the pyramid in the living room… …but then moved to the couch to be closer to Mister Boogers. So, let’s see. They come in for a little while in the morning, they come in for a while in the afternoon, they have their own food and water bowls on the front porch, along with a house and a heated cat bed. Sometimes they spend the night inside. Oh, and they get a snack at 7:00 every evening. Good thing they’re not our cats, huh? ********************* “U haz a flavor.” Malley’s such a pretty boy. Peyton. LOVE that boy. Snuggly kittens (Deuce and Rhian) in the sun. Deuce in the sun. * * * Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: Well, well, well. Look who’s a big tough talker, but when the can of whoopass is opened and a little orange kitten gets to smackin’, Mr. Badass cowers like a great big girly-man. 2004: Apparently I had nothing to write about last year, either, ’cause it’s all meme and comment-answering. 2003: No entry. 2002: Now, THAT is a church name! 2001: No entry. 2000: No entry. 1999: She thought “gauze” was plural, so obviously the singular would be “gau”!]]>

I cleared out about a year ago. Also, holy SHIT. Newt was a total teeny baby this time last year – he was clearly NOT fully grown at that point, as this picture can attest. (flickr) Not that he’s so much bigger now – he’s just a small cat, really, especially compared to our indoor lazy-ass pigs who are twice his size – but now he looks like he’s all growed up.

* * * Yesterday I had to run to the bank to deposit a check, and on the way home I stopped at the grocery store. The grocery store is having a big, fancy grand opening (Piggly Wiggly bought them out) (I’ll let you just sit with the idea that Piggly Wiggly was having a big, fancy grand opening. Heh.) and as a result, they had a stand in front of the store selling hot dogs and soda, and also someone dressed up in a pig outfit, given that “Mr. Pig” is the store mascot. Also, a local country radio station was in attendance, blaring their music across the parking lot. I went in, got what I needed to, paid (one of the big managers was running the cash register, and may I just say – I know we’re supposed to be all impressed and “Look! He’s a man of the people!” when a big manager shows up at a store opening and runs the cash register, but JESUS CHRIST they are always slow as shit. Leave it to the professionals, big managers! I got places to go and people to see AND IT SHOULDN’T TAKE THAT LONG TO FUMBLE OUT THREE ONE DOLLAR BILLS.). So I grabbed my groceries and headed for the door, and I was looking off to the side where the radio station van was sitting, trying to figure out if I’d get something for free if I went over there, when I bumped into something soft. Something large and soft. “Oh, sorry!” I said, and turned my head to find that Mr. Pig was standing there, smiling malevolently at me. As I stared in horror, he opened his arms wide and moved closer in a bid for a hug. I think my exact response was “Eek!” I backed up, then ducked around him and high-stepped it to my car, glancing nervously over my shoulder as I went. Rather than chase me across the parking lot, Mr. Pig turned to force a little old lady into a hug. She didn’t look all that happy about it, but she let him hug her, and after he hugged her, he did a little dance. That’s the stuff of nightmares, right there. * * * Let me add here that the above story would be much better if I had turned to find Mr. Pig standing there and reacted by screaming at the top of my lungs, dropping my groceries, and running like hell across the parking lot. In fact, just thinking about the possibility makes me giggle. * * * Tommy and Boog Determine Just Who the Boss Is ‘Round These Parts (A pictorial) ::fume:: This round goes to Tommy, but with all that het in his heart, I think we know Mister Boogers will surely make a comeback. * * * Previously 2006: Maddy’s new Mommy and Daddy came a-visitin’ yesterday. 2005: Huh. I was wondering why Tom Cullen was snooping around in the stamp drawer 2004: The spud and I stood patiently by while the man chattered at the school employees for several minutes and then my head exploded, scattering brain matter everywhere. 2003: “Jessica Lynch!” I said. “Isn’t she the only POW we’ve ever had in all of history?” 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: No entry. 1999: She went in and treated the whole office to a very loud gagging sound (she gets that from her mother), and came out a few minutes later a little less green. ]]>

You can see that here, and it’s also linked from the main Virtual House Tours page – there’s a link to that over in the right-hand sidebar under the “about” heading. I’m hoping to have a virtual tour of the house – what it looks like now that we’re living here – in the next month or so.

* * * Y’all crack me up. What should have put you all on high alert that I was lying about how I spent my anniversary was the idea that I slept until almost 10:00. For me, sleeping in ’til 9 is total lazy slackerdom – I don’t think I’ve slept in later than that since the spud and I flew back from Hawaii and I didn’t get any sleep at all, so I went to bed at 7:30 in the evening and slept ’til 11 the next morning. The funny thing is that when I was telling Fred what my entry was going to be about, he thought about it and then said, with much concern, “You’d really want to buy an isolated island in the Bahamas?” Oh, I don’t KNOW. How’sabout you win us $100 billion in the lottery and we’ll negotiate the terms after that, foolio! * * * Have you watched any of Meerkat Manor yet? I’m hooked and I can send you the first 2 seasons if you want. It’s sooo cute! I’ve seen several episodes of it, and have a bunch more saved on the DVR, but haven’t had a chance to watch them yet. I don’t believe there’s anything cuter on earth than a meerkat standing at attention. I NEED a meerkat as a pet! I totally do! * * * I knew it wasn’t true because you would be pissed as hell if a cleaning crew showed up and you hadn’t had a chance to clean up for them first. I would like to splutter about how that is SO not true, except it totally IS. Damnit. Of course, I probably wouldn’t have answered the door in the first place, because if I’m not expecting anyone, I don’t answer that damn door. * * * By the way, ever think about naming kittens after sports team figures? (e.g. Seaver, Jeter, A-Rod, Sparky, Moose, etc.) I hadn’t, but it’s certainly a good idea for the future – those of you who suggest cool cat names (and themes), rest assured that I have an email folder with your suggestions in them, and when I’m stumped I look through them! * * * Maxi and Newt are totally not your cats. People give cats who are not theirs soft pyramids to snooze in all the time. I object. I OBJECT. I did NOT buy that soft pyramid for Newt to sleep in. That’s Spot’s pyramid, and Newt just wandered in and made himself at home. Actually, I didn’t buy that pyramid at all, now that I think about it – I earned it through FreshStep Paw Points! * * * Maxi and Newt? NOT YOUR CATS! Never, ever never gonna have more cats than what you came there with. I remember this distinctly! So how many cats does that make now? I can’t count higher than 5. Do you have a new number at which you will NOT Go Beyond? Say, 10 cats? 12? 15? Bwaaaa ha haa! You just shaddup. I note that every time I say “We’ve got enough cats”, we end up with a hundred more. Back when I put up pictures of this house (before it was ours), I mentioned that “We have enough cats!”, and boom-boom! Maxi showed up with Newt and her kittens. So I’m not going to say we have enough cats. We do NOT have enough cats. More cats, please! * * * I still like the Tommy/Sugarbutt jumping for the feather toy shot. I believe Tommy’s jumping and Sugarbutt’s watching with his mouth open, as if he’s saying, “Awesome!” Of course, I have no idea when this one was posted. Here it is! (flickr) * * * Since when does Spot sport the paw of doom? That’s regarding this picture: (flickr) What happened is that Spot got too close to Maxi (Maxi’s the black cat on the rug; Tommy’s up on the counter with Sugarbutt and they’re acting like starving pigs the way they do every night) and Maxi turned and smacked him, and since shit rolls downhill, Spot turned around and smacked Miz Poo, who hissed and ran away. * * * That’s an awful lot of damn cats, but I gotta ask: don’t Maxi and Newt get the snackins? But of COURSE they get them some snackins. They get their snack on the front porch, though, ’cause otherwise our pigs will shoulder them out of the way and eat all the snack themselves. * * * Robyn, Have you read this story yet? I hadn’t seen that, so thanks for the link, Amy. That Zoey is one lucky little girl! * * * For months that picture of Mr. Boogers has bugged me because I couldn’t figure out who he reminded me of. It finally came to me: Howard Dean. Separated at birth! Now we just need a Howard Dean “Het” look, and my life will be complete! * * * Every day..? Does that include Weekends?! OMG I CAN GET A WEEKEND FIX OF ROBYN >D *Squeal* Yes indeedy, I’ll be updating every single day in November, the thought of which just makes me want to take a nap. Expect to have less content and more pictorial-type entries on the weekends. (Don’t ask me how that differs from a usual entry, because I’ve got no answer to that!) * * * “Ah surrenders!” Brudderly love. ::thlurrrp:: Bath time! “Um, NO. There is NO ROOM on the platform, so move away. MOVE AWAY, I say!” The look on Jesikat’s face is cracking me UP! Pretty Deuce. ********************** Stinkerbelle is just girl in love, who will NOT leave poor Tommy alone. Good thing for her that Tommy’s such a sweet and patient boy! * * * Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: He’s a class act, that Vincent Gallo 2004: “Squee!” it reiterated. “Squee! Squee! Squee!” 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: Is it just me, or do you get pissed off when you’re the victim of unexpected pain? 2000: No entry. 1999: Damn that Halloween candy!]]>

new logo! This one was created by lovely reader Carol, a few months ago. Thanks, Carol! And on a side note, I have no logo for December. If anyone’s feeling creative, go for it!

* * * Tomorrow’s the Comment-Answering Extravaganza! Get it in while the gettin’ is good! * * * High on a stump was a lonely hen Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo Loud was the voice of the lonely hen Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo *********************************** Thank you all for your lovely anniversary wishes. I slept in until almost 10:00 (!) and was awakened by a knock on the front door. When I opened the door, a cleaning team was standing there. “Happy anniversary from Fred!” they chorused. “We’re here to deep clean your house from top to bottom!” There were so many of them that it took only a couple of hours to get the house gleaming from top to bottom. I didn’t want to get in their way, so I took my book out onto the front porch and sat in the sun while reading and watching the traffic go by, and the birds frolic around the front yard. After they left, I went inside and stepped on the scale to find that I have miraculously lost 15 pounds overnight, without even trying. I was about to go take a long bath and then wash my hair, but just as I turned the water on to fill up the tub, there was another knock on the door. “Happy anniversary from Fred!” said a tall man in a suit. “Please get dressed and join me in the driveway.” Wondering just what in the holy hell was going on, I got dressed and went out the side door. There, in the driveway, sat a stretch limo. Without a word, the driver helped me into the back of the limo, told me to relax, and we drove off down the road. There was a full bar and a tiny refrigerator, so I opened a bottle of Evian and ate a couple of chocolate-covered strawberries and wondered where we were going. After half an hour, we pulled up to a full-service spa in South Huntsville I’d only read about, but never experienced. “Mrs. And3rson!” the woman at the front desk greeted me. “Please follow me!” I did so, and what came after was the stuff of fairytales: full-body massage, mud bath, facial, pedicure and manicure, a fancy haircut and styling, and all the while I wasn’t required to make polite conversation or do anything but lay there and enjoy the pampering. When the pampering was over, I went into the dressing room and found that my slobby sweatpants and t-shirt had been replaced by a lovely dress that (1) made me look taller, (2) made me look much thinner, and (3) did not display my flabby upper arms, flabby upper thighs, or flabby stomach. It was a miracle dress, is what it was. I slipped on the dress and the shoes – some Italian designers who didn’t sound familiar to me had designed them specifically for my feet – and after a session in a chair with a makeup artist, I was whisked away in the limo. I was so busy playing with the stereo in the back of the limo that I forgot to pay attention to where we were going, so when we pulled up to a small airplane, I was more than surprised. “Happy anniversary from Fred!” said the pilot who descended from the plane. “Please come in and have a seat!” I did, mind boggling. The stewardess brought me a flute of champagne and more chocolate-covered strawberries, and I ate and drank as we took to the air. It was a fairly short flight, and as the plane began descending, I saw the blue waters and white sand beaches of Florida below. As the plane taxied to the terminal, Fred appeared and beckoned me to him. “Bessie!” he said, waving his arm expansively. “Are you having a good anniversary so far?” “Yeah, but WHAT THE HELL?” I said. “How can we possibly afford all this?” “Let me explain over dinner,” he said, and we got into the limo waiting for us. We were whisked away to a small table on a deserted beach, and served oysters, lobster, and shrimp. “Okay, we’ve eaten,” I said some time later. “Are you going to explain this to me?” “Remember a few weeks ago when I had to go up into Tennessee for work?” he said. “I do.” “Well, while I was there, I bought a lottery ticket. And I forgot all about it until last week, and then when I checked the numbers, I found out -” “We won the LOTTERY?” I said. “We won the LOTTERY, and you didn’t TELL me?” “We won the lottery,” he said. “And I didn’t tell you. But isn’t it a good surprise?” “It is,” I conceded. “How much did we win?!” “A hundred billion dollars,” Fred said. “A hundred million dollars?!” “No. A hundred BILLION dollars.” After I regained consciousness, Fred smiled down at me. “We could totally buy and sell Oprah if we wanted to. Instead, I’ve made an offer for an island in the Bahamas and they accepted. We’re going to live on our VERY OWN island in the Bahamas. It’s three hundred acres.” “Wow,” I said, eyes shining. “Imagine how many cats we could fit on three hundred acres!” “Well, Bessie? Is this a good anniversary present?” “You bet your ASS it is!” And we toasted each other and watched the sun set as we walked along the water, burning hundred dollar bills to keep warm. * * * Or MAYBE I celebrated my anniversary by sleeping in ’til 8, vacuuming the house, watching TV, reading magazines, doing laundry, making meatloaf and black-eyed peas for dinner, then spending two hours emptying, scrubbing, and refilling litter boxes and having a conniption because the Litter Robot is being a huge pain in the ass. One or the other. It’s hard to tell the difference between the two, really. * * * Cat stuff over at Love & Hisses. * * * Previously 2006: I hope one of the little brats who took a handful of candy ended up with a slug, too. That’d serve ‘em right! 2005: And I don’t WANNA. 2004: Fuckin’ yawnsville. 2003: No entry. 2002: Bob Riley’s campaign strategy is to say “Nuh uh!” 2001: Did you know that they make foam cups in espresso size? 2000: No entry. 1999: Such appetizing topics, eh?]]>