Sunday, November 30, 2003

My cat is a freak

My cat is a freak

Because I just spent several seconds torturing my neurotic cat with a hot neon pink mouse on a string. She literally hid under the bed, and not in a "wow I want to play" way but in a "terrorists are invading, hide the children and Monex gold notes under the bed" way. Poor little freak. She wanted to play, and the mouse on a string looked like fun at Petsmart. Apparently, it has all kinds of cat evil pheremones on it or something. Maybe it's like the equivalent of a baby's head on a stick for me... who knows what kitty logic is in that furry little head of hers.

Nissa called-- apparently there may be a crisis in my home later as she might need to escape a family-related invasion of her home later. As a good friend, I have told her that I a fully prepared to turn into a freak in need of therapy later so she has to say "oh, man, I'm sorry to leave you relatives I didn't want to hang out with anyway but my friend is having a nervous breakdown." Which we will then treat with vanilla vodka and a movie. Ho-rah!!. (that's Marine corps speak for yeah!)

Really, how many times can I use the modifier "later" in one short paragraph?

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