oh, my eyes!

This crazy image was found at Maximum Aardvark. Where's the Advil?

Been out farting around at bookstores and dinner---had a delicious tofu sandwich at the Mellow Mushroom. Since you-know-who is still feeling quite diluted, there will be no ticker-tape parades tonight. I did buy a new paper journal for the really major whining and philosophizing I need to do. I've kept journals most of my life, especially in my 20's, and have 1000's of pages of personal ruminations--and they're all going into the crematorium with me when I bite the big one. As much as I like typing this journal for fun, there's no substitute for acid-free paper and a fine-tipped fountain pen. Black ink, of course. Ooooh, delicious. I love pens. I hate writing with bad pens...it poisons the whole experience.

One more thought, since I'm so damn bored I could start my hair on fire for entertainment...if you have cats, have you noticed that you ARE NOT ALLOWED to sit on the toilet without their immediate supervision? What is this all about? Atticus, especially, (the one squished at the front of the boat and to the left) is compelled to paw the door open, or whatever he has to do, so he can stare at me the whole time I am on the toilet. It's like he's trying to brainwash me or something. "Mother cat, you must obey my commands. Listen to my purr. You are a giant steaming turd. Flush yourself away...away...AWAY!!!!!" Well, I don't know what he's thinking--maybe I should get that stupid Meowlingual and get some interpretation. He talks all the time anyway. I could really get some use out of it. He's probably saying, "How could you take my testicles away?!" or "Get me my kitty crack*, now!!!" or "Move your fat ass over to the treats and make yourself useful." Of course, I think he's saying, "Aw, pick me up, you're the best mom ever..." *catnip, of course