I think I’ve killed 300 flies in the past three weeks. You know, if the fucking things didn’t insist on congregating on the windows right by my monitor, I wouldn’t get so annoyed by them, and they’d probably live a longer life.
Well, that’s not true. Flies in the kitchen drive me absolutely nuts, too, and I go after them as soon as I see them.
I loathe flies. Fucking things.
At the dollar store. Does the pretty printing make the misspelling okay? You know, I think it just might.
This post-it has been stuck to the post office door for at least a week and a half now.
I’m surprised that it’s actually lasted there this long, that no asshole has come along and pulled it down.
I’m very curious whether Larry and Erica did, in fact, let him know where they are. Or if they’ve even seen the post-it. I’d like to know what the story is, there.
Thanks, you guys, for your name suggestions for the new guys. I really liked Loki and Bart, but Fred did not. I am very enamored of the names Ham and Egg, but Fred is not.
Since they’re really his boys (he really does call them “My boys”, but then I always say “I’m going to hang with my homies” when I’m headed upstairs to hang out with the foster kittens. I’m not sure what my point is here. Maybe that I’m a freakin’ dork.), I gave him final say on their names (as long as I don’t HATE them – he wanted Remus and Romulus, but I nixed that right quick). I thought we should just give them the same name, or similar names that could have the same nickname, because I cannot tell the two of them apart.
He suggested Grey’s Anatomy names, then said we could name one of them McDreamy, and I said we could name the other McSteamy and call them both “Mick.”
I also really like Bubba and Gump, but Fred doesn’t (odd, since that’s his favorite movie). I suggested George and Lenny (Of Mice and Men), Stu and Larry (The Stand), Fred suggested Javert and Valjean (Les Mis) or Jesus and Judas (heh).
He did suggest Frick and Frack, which I kinda liked.
Lisa suggested Thing 1 and Thing 2 in my comments, which I liked a LOT, but Fred did not.
What I really really REALLY liked and couldn’t convince Fred of, was that Samuel and Jackson would be EXCELLENT names. Sam and Jack! How perfect is that?
But, last night, we found names that we could agree upon, at least for the time being. (It took a long time before Mister Boogers’ name came to be. He started out as “Stanley”, became “The Bean” for a while, turned into Mr. Boogers before he finally became Mister Boogers. I don’t know that the names we’ve given these two will stick, but we’ll see.)
They’re blue.
They’re brothers.
They’re Jake and Elwood.
The kittens are doing well. They recognize the sound of me walking down the hall toward the kitten room, and when I open the door all six of them are lined up waiting for me, and begin howling for attention. A couple of them invariably make a run out the door, but I have a fireplace screen across the door (I call it “the airlock” so they don’t get far.
Today marks two weeks since they came here, they’re all very good about using the litter boxes, and the diarrhea appears to be almost completely gone. I very well may begin to allow them the run of the upstairs in the next few days.
Have I mentioned that Sam is a back climber? He’s the only one who consistently climbs up my back, sinking his needle-sharp claws into the skin of my back, and then perches there (as I lean forward so he won’t tumble off). Sometimes he chews on my hair.
He likes to sit in my lap, too. I guess what I’m saying is that Sam is a people person.
:::slurrrrp:::
For a few days, Lafayette would get up on top of the cat tree and then cry and cry and cry for me to come rescue him. He figured out how to get down on his own, finally, and now he races up and down that cat tree faster than you’d think a little kitten could move.
Sookie thinks you’re FUNNY.
Previously
2008: YES THAT’S RIGHT I SAID SIX-THIRTY DON’T JUDGE ME.
2007: No entry.
2006: He truly amazes me.
2005: If I insert a brillo pad into my ear, will it eventually get to my brain and scrub that song out, or is that an urban myth?
2004: You know, I’m getting PRETTY FRICKIN’ TIRED of finding cricket legs all over the damn place.
2003: “Mother,” said the spud, “That is an excellent idea, for I am going to melt into a motherfucking puddle of goo in about 10 seconds.”
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: In the future, the spud will be cleaning her own bedroom, since I took one look at her room and said “Fuck THIS.”