A Black Feather, A poison pen... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I was born in the Year of the Rat funny that a pound and three quarters of sleek black furry mayhem can manage to make my house look like i have taken to sharing it with a clumsy giant. I'd complain, but the amusement i get from watching outweighs any gripe i might have over the mess and it's nice that when i walk through the door every evening after work there's a flurry of meowing, beeping, chirping and purring and ever oher assorted kitten noise from tonya to let me know that i was missed I've fiured out that in all likelihood, if i live on enough, i'm going to end up one of those deranged old people who becomes a footnote on the evening news when after going unseen and unheard from for several weeks they are found having passed away and partially eaten by a house-ful of cats i figure it's like my old buddy Mark from back at my old tech job who, on returning from visiting his family in Gallup for the holidays one year talked about the people he knew from the rez passed out by the roadside on the way into town... with a tone that seemed only half-joking (he was good at the deadpanned joke so if you didn't know better he could fuck with your mind) he said "yeah, i think that's what i'm gonna do when i retire" 8:45 p.m. - 2003-08-09 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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