cat update

So it turns out that Upninjky is actually 3 cats that look a lot alike. Tonight one of the three was enjoying a 2-course meal of milk and tuna. How quaint. If I hang out on the porch for a few hours will my downstairs neighbor feed me? Probably not as I am incapable of incessant meowing. Actually not. WTF? I want some lasagna neighbor lady (that Garfield was onto something).

Then the other day there was a white and orange cat on the porch. Funny how word gets around to the other hobo kitties.

Anyway, I have no explanation for why all I want to write about is vagrant cats. It's just the mood I'm in right now. Ok. Time for bed. Oh and Lindsay Lohan in is rehab today. Shocker.

it's how they would have wanted it

I was golfing with a buddy today (golfing is an evil, evil activity) and he asked me if I was going to a cookout or whatnot after golf. I said I didn't know. I was going to play it by ear and see what was going on.

He said, "You have to go. Think of all the soldiers that have fought for America." I said, "Yes, thousands have died purely so I can gorge myself this afternoon."

productivity

A buddy at work sent me this email, apropos of nothing:

How come walkers still have tennis balls on the back legs? You would think that some engineer for the walker company would create something more attractive, that serves the same purpose as tennis balls. I saw this lady who has tennis ball holders on the back legs. I hope by the time I need a walker, tennis balls are no longer needed.

To which I responded:
"That’s in case you want to put together an impromptu game of cripply* tennis."

* I actually said "gimpy" here, but cripply sounds less evil/more hilarious.

woot!

The little boy that lives inside my head hasn't been annoying me about blogging lately. To what do I attribute this? Well, it's summer. He is probably out and about, frolicking in other people's skulls. Without the internal nagging, the blog goes neglected. It was moldy when I got here.

Boss's boss is in the office today for the sole purpose of making making this post difficult.

Planning continues on the wedding . . . my skillz were needed to book a honeymoon, but that's about it. I'm not down with what's all the rage in napkin colors so my ability to help in most areas is severely limited. Burnt orange? Is that cool? I like yellow.

I'm convinced that freaking cat is from some past life sent here to pester the shit out of me. It's a cute and friendly cat and all, but I'm allergic and I don't want a cat. Somebody buy it this book.

At any rate, thanks for all the outpouring of concern via email and the comments. I'm still here, thinking about the possibility of blogging.

schadenfreude

A fool and his skin are soon covered.

(I think you have to give your area code and sex - YES! - to read that article. Lie if you must; it's worth it.)

if the red badge of courage . . .

is 4 ounces of ketchup, I wear mine proudly - all over the front of my shirt.

Things I'm just going to go ahead and assume I'd be great at, because I don't have the motivation to actually find out.

• Yachting
• Backgammon
• Constructive criticism
• Ultimate Fighting
• Volunteerism
• Bridge
• "Contributing" member of society
• hoboing
• clog dancing
• Yodeling
• Math in my head
• Being not cool

This is off the top of my head. There are plenty of other things I'm too lazy to try.

Upninjky

I think under-porch kitty is some sort of specially trained ninja cat.

I come home from a night with the fam - celebrating RS2's birthday, eating pizza and ice cream and working on the wedding invite list.

I parked. I was carrying the golf bag I had bought earlier in the day and some other stuff. Just as I'm about to open the door Upninjky appears. He deftly shuffles, BUT, I block his path with my golf bag. He backs away, hoping to sneak-in another day.

I think Upninjky thinks that if he gets into my apartment he's safe and he can't be removed. It's like home base or whatever. I don't know. He might be right so I'm not letting that happen.

so you're telling me you don't enjoy posts entertaining the idea of blowing up the moon.

Ok, maybe it was bad. Or is there some weird moon cult I'm unaware of?

At any rate, anyone care to animate a tumbleweed rolling around that post?

Dear downstairs neighbor lady (sans festering sores - AFAIK),

I'm sure leaving open cans of tuna on our porch for "under-porch" kitty will reserve for you a special place in cat-lover heaven. However, while UPK is a very nice kitty indeed, it is unlikely that mangy-angry kitty or smelly-worm-infested kitty or rabid-mouth-foaming-bitey kitty will respect UPK's exclusive rights to said tuna. In fact, it is quite likely that a psychopathic transient is, right now, feasting on your hard-earned foodstuffs (or the remains of UPK).

With all this in mind and with a desire to avoid 80 to 100 cats panhandling in front of our home, please desist leaving food out on the porch. If you want to take UPK into your home, so be it. You can even name him Uppky. But please - for the love of Sheba - don't leave your eats on the porch.

Sincerely,
Me