10-8 on Sunday nights. Imagine my surprise when we watched the season premiere. We knew that Ernie Hudson – who was the warden in Oz – was in the show, but a familiar face flashed across the screen, and I was struck almost speechless. “It’s! It’s! It’s!” I sputtered, pointing at the screen. “What?” Fred said, staring at me and then the screen, which was no longer showing the familiar face. “It’s! You know! It’s!” I struggled to come up with the name, and finally located it in a hidden corner of my brain. “It’s CYRIL!” For the record, Fred thinks Scott William Winters is the ugliest man alive, and every time Cyril comes on the screen, Fred says “God. He is SO ugly. His brother definitely got the looks!” (Dean Winters, who plays Cyril’s brother is Scott William Winters’ brother in real life)

I do not think Scott William Winters is ugly. At all. Also for the record, Scott William Winters played the blond guy in the bar who got his ass handed to him by Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting. He played himself in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back (in the “I don’t like the sound of them apples, Will. What are we gonna dooo?” scene.)
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So, I tend to go through my life (my real life) under the impression that no one really notices me. The main places I go are the pet store, the grocery store, the post office, and occasionally Target. The morning people at the pet store – the managers at least – have come to recognize me, because they need to open the cat room for me on my feed-n-scoop days. I think that some of the cashiers at the grocery store have come to recognize me, because I’ve been going in there at least twice a week for two or three years. I don’t know them well enough to chat, but we do smile and say hello. Of course, they smile and say hello to everyone, so maybe they don’t recognize me at all, and I’m delusional. Fred always gets groceries on Saturday morning as soon as the store opens, and so he’s developed a chatty relationship with many of the Saturday morning workers. But anyway, you get my point. I go through life pretty sure that no one much notices me, because at the places I frequent, they get hundreds of customers every day and why would I stick out? Saturday morning, Fred went out to run errands. One of his errands was to drop books off at the post office, and since a couple of them were going to Canada, he went in and stood in line because if a package is more than 1 pound (in the envelope, the book weighs 1 pound and 1/10 of an ounce, and they won’t let that slide, because if they let 1/10 of an ounce slide, they should probably let 2/10 of an ounce slide, then 3/10 of an ounce, then perhaps a whole ounce, and all would be anarchy), you have to hand it to a real live person, because it might be a bomb or something. A flat, book-shaped bomb. After standing in line for several minutes, Fred got to the front of the line and put his packages down in front of the postal worker. They chit-chatted (because Fred is a chit-chatty motherfucker), and then the postal worker glanced at the return address label on one of the packages! “Oh!” he exclaimed. “Box 565!” “Yes,” Fred agreed. “And3rson!” the postal worker said. “Robyn!” It should be noted that my name and our last name wasn’t on the package. Fred, not knowing what to say, nodded. “She likes to send packages to Topsham, Maine,” he told Fred, as if Fred didn’t know that already. “She grew up in Lisbon Falls. I grew up in Bath!” Later, telling me the story, Fred gave me a mock-suspicious look. “And then he told me he likes to have sex with you in the break room every day at 11!” he lied. “Only on Tuesdays,” I said.
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Pet store kitty pics are here.
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These cat beds are the best investment we’ve ever made, cat-wise.
(Can you tell Spanky just woke up?)