12/04/2000

Oh, how I loathe the Mad Shitter, let me count the ways… I was sitting in front of my computer Saturday morning, waiting for Fred to get home with the groceries so the spud and I could help drag them upstairs and into the kitchen. As I was busily surfing, I half-heard the spud saying "What are you doing? I hope you’re not pooping…" After a few seconds, what she’d said sunk in, and I whipped around to see the Mad Shitter in the corner near Fred’s desk, hunkering down to lay down the law, so to speak. "You little bastard!" I yelled, and then ran at him. He stayed in position until I was just about on top of him, and then he ran, dropping two turds on his way across the room and up the stairs. You’ll be proud of me, to know that I didn’t run after him, grab him by the nape of the neck and toss his fancy ass out the door for all eternity, but I certainly thought some very mean and hateful things about the little bastard. Moving along… I downloaded the newest version of Eudora and found to my delight that it includes a "moodwatch" deal, where it rates incoming and outgoing email with chili peppers, one being the lowest rating (well, actually none being the lowest rating) and three being the highest rating. I find that I’m really quite thrilled to receive a 3-chili pepper email, and my friend Moira almost always rates 3 chili peppers. Don’t be too impressed though, y’all. Apparently one single use of the word "sex" will earn you 3 chili peppers.

chili peppers

I was laying in bed the other morning on my left side, when Miz Poo came sniffing along. Most of the time when she finds me laying on my left side, she’s thrilled, because that’s the position I have to be in for her to climb up and drape herself over my head. She won’t do it when I’m laying on my right side, I don’t know why, but I guess I should be grateful ’cause otherwise she’d always be laying on my head and I’d be walking around with a flat head. So on this particular morning, she came sniffing along and stopped at my face, leaning in and sniffing wildly. As I have come to do, I opened my mouth, and she leaned in ever closer, sniffing and sniffing. After a few seconds of intense sniffing, she stopped, backed up a little bit, stared at me, and made a deep groaning noise in the back of her throat. Her eyes went all wide and dark and she took off, running as though the hounds of hell were after her. —–

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