reading: Over Her Dead Body, by Kate White. Finished last night: Jump the Shark, by Jon Hein. Good book – like I said the other day, it’s like having the web page in book form.

I seriously considered going to see Brokeback Mountain yesterday, because I REALLY want to see that damn movie. But after careful consideration I ended up not going, because the only place in the area it was playing was at a multiplex on South Memorial Parkway. It started at 1:10, and if there’s anywhere I’d rather not be after 3 in the afternoon, it’s on the damn Parkway. So I guess I’ll end up just waiting for it to come out on DVD. Which should be in the next few months, I hope.
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Fred suggested the other day that we rename Tom Cullen and Sugarbutt “Porky” and “Dorky.” And they’d be appropriate names, because I think Tommy’s going to end up being Tubby-sized. He’s got a gut like you wouldn’t believe, and he’s a very heavy, solid cat. The funny thing is that he really doesn’t eat all that much – I would have expected Sugarbutt to be the one with the gut, because he’s always got his face in the food bowl. And “Dorky” would be a good name for Sugarbutt, ’cause he’s just not the sharpest tool in the shed. Pretty? Yes, very. Smart? Not nearly as smart as Tommy. Last Sunday Fred was in the kitchen making coffee and Tommy jumped up onto the counter, where we keep his, Sugarbutt’s and Boog’s collars in a basket. He dug around in the basket, grabbed a collar with his teeth, and dropped it on the counter. (It actually happened to be his collar, but I think that’s incidental.) Then he gave Fred a look and meowed. Clearly it was time for Fred to collar up the cats and open the cat door! So he did.
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Pet store kitty pics from Monday are here.
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I realized the other day that the iPod is just a Barbie Doll for adults. I mean, I have little OUTFITS for Bob Pod now. Not only do I have the silicon cover I bought on eBay:
(And despite what I PAID for, that is NOT a yellow silicon cover. It’s a freakin’ PEACH cover. That is in no way yellow, damnit.)
And with a little help from Nance, Bob Pod can now leather it up when he’s feeling like a badass:
(She said she thought it was appropriate because I like to listen to country music. Brat!)
And of course, when he’s feeling sassy, he can just let it all hang in the breeze:
That Bob Pod, so stylish.
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I was sitting in the computer room yesterday, Miz Poo in a cat bed on one side of my desk and Tommy in a cat bed on the other side. I could hear the distinctive sound of Sugarbutt snoring – he and Tommy are both snorers, so I guess it’s genetic – so I leaned over to see where Sugarbutt was (I thought he might be sleeping behind the chair in the corner of the room), and saw this:
So I went for a closer look and found that Sugarbutt was snoozing up inside the recliner:
And he didn’t want to be disturbed, so I went away.
Every morning when I eat my cottage cheese (on the mornings that I eat cottage cheese, that is), Sugarbutt sits and stares at me until I’m done, waiting for me to hand my bowl over so that he might lick every little bit of cottage cheese out of the bowl. That bowl, by the way, used to belong to my grandmother. I have a set of two of them, and I LOVE them. I bought this cat tunnel at PetSmart, and I am less than impressed with it. I thought it would kind of pop open and stay that way, but it’s actually collapsible, like a big bag. The cats like Fred to carry them around in it. The other night, Mister Boogers climbed in the bag, and Fred carried the bag o’ Booger into the computer room and said “Would you like a bag o’ Booger?” Without looking in the bag, I reached in to pet him, and found that he was upside-down. As in, ass up. So when I reached down to pet his head, IT WASN’T HIS HEAD I GOT. ::shudder::
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Previously 2005: Killing the messenger. 2004: Howling and hissing and growling and yowling ensued. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: Gather ’round, younguns, and hear the heartbreaking tale of farts and betrayal… 2000: You still love me, though, right? Um, right?]]>