Tag: cats

My cat is not very competent at stealth.

At first, the cat has managed to completely conceal herself using the coffee table, as she had intended.

The Cat May Not Be Seen

However, she soon forgets that she has ears that protrude above her eye level. She can now be partly observed, and she’s unaware of this fact.

The Cat May Be Seen

Finally, she completely loses her discipline and much of the top of the head may also be seen. At this point I feel that she has given up on the whole idea of hiding.

The Cat May Be More Clearly Seen

Our municipal drains were insufficient for today’s inch of rain.

Hurray, I got to see mahakala today! She was at D’s for a bit this afternoon, where I fled after my shrink appointment. It was Old Home Week as other people I rarely see also showed up. Then off to the Indian Burial Ground Coffee House of Doom to see catamorphism and David, who were really nice. We gabbled about big ideas for a while. Amazingly, I was not dragged to Hell by slimy green arms or held down while Morlocks carved swastikas into my nuts or anything. Maybe that curse was a one-time thing. About the coffee house, not catamorphism, silly.

Ate some pasta and an omelette. The cat is freakin’ neurotic lately, clingy and demanding and making that weird barking sound she only makes when she’s demanding something. A fair amount of remedial cat cuddle was necessary to get her back into a humming pleasant state.

After shrinkage I took some photos down the street at the shuttered and crumbling Children’s Nuthouse on Dover. There’s no more reliable source of undergraduate-literary-magazine style urban decay ‘n’ despair than a closed mental institution!

745 Dover Drive #1

The rest of the set is here on Flickr if you need more anomie ‘n’ ennui.

I myself was doing great today until sometime after I came home and then the bad mood 16-ton weight fell on me. Oops.

Important items for your consideration.

I often fall asleep with my jeans still on, and later I wake up and get properly undressed for bed. Night before last this happened again. I woke up later feeling very cold. Upon investigation I discovered I was not wearing my pants. Furthermore, I could not find my sheet. Why am I pantsless and uncovered?

I found my jeans at the foot of the bed. Groggy and annoyed, I picked them up. Hmm, they’re kind of stuffed-feeling, what’s.. WHAT? The sheet was wadded up and stuffed in one leg.

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When my cat decides to get in my lap and love me, she kneads me in a kittenish way. When she does this she drools. Is this a kitten preparing to suckle reaction of some kind? Does anyone know? It’s sort of cute and gross at the same time.

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The other day I passed a business that followed my Rule of Business Names, which is that all pet grooming places and low-end hair salons must have horrible cute names. It was called THE DOG SPAW. Now I know what they meant by this, the lame spa/paw joke, but doesn’t DOG SPAW sound like something you have to clean up because your dog ate the soap and some raw bacon?