A dog with a collapsible tail
Scott found this via metafilter. It's a wonderfully sarcastic review of the new Cadallac SUV/Pickup Truck monster.
Cadillac says 20 percent of EXT buyers will be women with a $125,000 household income. This is lucky. It means they'll already own their own ladders. We predict that the EXT will be snapped up by buyers whose lifelong credo is "Hey, watch this!"


Eating Glass
Well, I am not going to explain this whole thing, but I think I just ate a bunch of glass.


Wife
The wife's birthday was yesterday. HB! It went fine. We had dinner at Ginger, which may be the best sushi ever. Well, maybe not the best ever, but this place has the possibility to be real popular once people discover it.


Pony
If adina shows up here in the big stink, I think Tim will come visit, too. That is what I am betting on.


Radio Star
I uploaded some new hits to the radio station. Included were some from my favorite MP3.com category: Reality -> 15 Seconds
MP3.com is a great source for retards making music, if you ever need that sort of thing.


Don't be ridiculous. Mind-reading is impossible.


Burp
I feel glassy


Harvest
Still serves Hungry Jack biscuits. Ick. But I did save some of my chicken for the kitty. She seemed quite fascinated that I somehow had chicken in my pockets. She'll will probably now check my pockets when I get in.

Unrelated note: where the hell is our heat? I think the super forgot to turn the heat machine on.


Peace out to Lumpy
Lumpy was a nice cat. HE was big. One of those big, stocky cats. He lived with John Lawton, and then was adopted by Pat and his wife. Pat lives in this wacky high rise with a wonderful view of the city, but also with a porch.
The porch's railing extends the length of the building, and Lumpy was fond of going out on the porch, jumping on the railing, and walking to the neighbor's porch. (Does this make sense? Each porch was separated by a wall, except that the railing kept on going.)
I spoke to John last night, and he said Lumpy had passed on. Immediately I assumed that he had met his maker by walking on the railing twenty stories up. He didn't. He was diagnosed with diabetes, and had some sort of seizure and just went downhill all of a sudden.
Poor guy.

Hope Kitty heaven is good to you lumpy. Hope it's all tuna, milk, and squirrels running around.






Hello, my baby,
Hello, my honey,
Hello, my ragtime gal!




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