I pass this billboard on my way to the pet store, and it always makes me laugh. Because there is nothing, there will never be anything, “gourmet” about Krystal. If you’ve never had the dubious pleasure of eating a Krystal burger, let me describe it thusly: it is the most chemical tasting thing, topped with reconstituted onions (or “recons”, as those in the biz call them), on a fluffy white bun, that exists in the fast food market today. I kid you not, when I say that you could replace the “burger” with a patty of shredded brillo and toilet cleaner, and no one would notice the difference.
They are NAS-TAY, and trust me when I say that you’d be better off never bothering to try the nasty things. Ugh.
The only way I can figure Krystal stays in business is that their food is so incredibly cheap that if you had $5 for your day’s worth of food, you could actually fill up on the chemical nastiness at Krystal, whereas the more expensive McDonald’s or Burger King would only get you a meal or two.
* * *
We spent the weekend watching movies, some of them together and some not. Friday night we watched the far too long
The Door in the Floor. I rented it because, for some ungodly reason, I thought it was a horror movie, but it turned out to be based on the John Irving novel
A Widow for One Year. It just seemed to drag on forever, and finally about two-thirds of the way through, we started fast-forwarding it, and stopping it if anything interesting seemed to be happening. A total waste of time, that movie.
Saturday, we watched
What the Bleep Do We Know? I ended up snoozing through most of it, but Fred seemed to like it. It was an odd movie starring Marlee Matlin intercut with interviews with quantum phyicists and new age authors, and – as the editorial review on Amazon says,
a vaguely convincing (and certainly mind-provoking) theory about… well, actually, it sounds a lot like the Power of Positive Thinking, when you get down to it. I was more awake for the end of the movie than for the beginning, and I think it might have been somewhat interesting if I’d stayed awake the entire time… but not interesting enough to try to watch it again on my own.
Saturday afternoon, Fred watched
The Pacifier with the spud, and said it was better than he’d expected. Especially the scenes with the duck, ’cause Fred loves him some ducks, for sure.
Saturday night, we watched
Coach Carter, which was pretty good – I could have done with a little less basketball, though. Heh.
Yesterday, he and the spud spent the entire afternoon watching The Omen
I,
II, and
III. Since I had no desire to see any of the three, I went upstairs and watched
The Upside of Anger, which I’ve had in my possession for a week or so from Netflix. I didn’t know if I’d like it all that much – when it comes to Kevin Costner, I can go either way, depending on the movie – but I ended up liking it a LOT. It probably helped that I liked every single actor in the movie except Mike Binder, who I don’t really care for (ironic, since he wrote and directed it), and it ended up being very much worth watching.
Last night, we watched
Taxi Driver, which Fred had never seen. That ending sure drags on a bit, eh?
We still have
The Usual Suspects and
Angels in America to watch, plus I have
Mind the Gap from Netflix we might try watching, as well.
I think we’re rapidly running out of choices, though. By Wednesday, Fred might be desperate enough to watch some episodes of
The O.C.
* * *
Currently
reading:
Horseplay. I’m enjoying it, even though I’m not terribly interested in horses. That’s the sign of a good author, I suppose – to write a book centered about something that doesn’t really interest you, but still manages to keep you interested anyway.
Finished Friday at the hospital:
Nights of Rain and Stars. Good book; I do love Maeve Binchy, most of the time.
* * *
So, the kittens have been pretty much out of their room most of the day, lately. We let them out about mid-morning, put them up for an hour at lunchtime (otherwise, Rambo bugs the hell out of us, begging for food. Which is our own damn fault, I know), and then put them up at 9 when we go to bed. It’s working out pretty well; for the most part, our cats have adjusted fairly well, though they don’t go out of their way to snuggle with the kittens, or even play all that much, but at least the kittens have each other to play with. They’ve learned that sometimes Mister Boogers will play with them, but that they’re better off leaving Miz Poo, Spanky, and Spot alone. Jodie did rub up against Miz Poo yesterday, and got a smack on the head for her troubles.
Jodie likes to disappear for long periods of time, just long enough to make us worry. I finally figured out where she’s been going – she climbs up into the recliner in the computer room to sleep. That way, no one will bother her, and she feels safe.
Too cute, these two.
Something disturbing happened on Thursday, though. Rambo likes to hang out on my desk and sleep on the cat bed there. I heard a loud noise Thursday afternoon and looked over to see him NURSING on the cat bed. It’s… quite honestly, it’s kind of gross, the loud smacking noises he makes.
I did some looking around online, and found that it’s a tendency that siamese cats have, to nurse on wool. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it here, but it’s been my theory that Rambo’s got siamese in him, because to me he looks a little siamese. Also, he can be a talkative motherfucker, which is a siamese trait as well. Or so I’ve heard.
Anyway, I found one page that said you should try to stop kittens from nursing on wool (there’s a theory, by the way, that the wool smells like the wet fur around a mother cat’s nipples) because if they ingest it, it could cause digestive problems. Another page said to let them do it, because it makes them happy and doesn’t hurt anything. Since I’d rather he not ingest wool, I moved the bed to our bedroom, and put a non-wool cat bed in it’s place, and things seem to be going okay. He found the wool cat bed and nursed on it briefly on Saturday, but there were places to go and people to see, so he didn’t do it for long.
It honestly wouldn’t bother me except he is SO FUCKING LOUD when he does it. It’s awfully cute, though, how happy he gets, kneading and purring and smacking.
Rambo nurses on the cat bed, while Jodie looks on in disgust.
One minute they’re viciously attacked each other, the next they’re snuggling up to sleep. Crazy kittens.
Sleepy Jodie.
Put a towel on the floor, and it becomes the favorite sleeping place for the cats.
When you’re recovering from surgery, what do you need? The medicinal healing effects of cats, of course.
All of today’s uploaded kitten pics are
here.
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