Guess what I have a new one of (if I can find it) thanks to the 8 year old...
I'll give ya a few hints.
I already have entirely too many of these.Some people think ONE of these is "too many".
I have never met one I've been able to say "no" to yet. And, no, it's not "men", ya wiseasses. They have fur, yes, but FOUR legs, not three.
(Think about it... *grin*) Yes, another (expletives deleted) kitten.
Or, to be more precise, another kitten with eye boogers. He says he found it sitting by itself in the barn. Borderline ready to eat canned food too.
(Very young...) Good timing though.
The PAWS lady was coming to take Ozzy to have an ultrasound done of his heart to check out the "heart murmur" the vet heard when he was gonna be neutered before.
They didn't "do" him then.
They wanna make sure his heart is strong enough to take the... shit they give 'em to make 'em go to sleep for surgery. (And yeah, I know what it's called. YOU spell that shit. WITHOUT looking it up...) ANYway... she was coming to get him for that and I showed her the kitten and she said she'd see if the right person was at the vet's tonight to get meds for it, but...
Ozzy wasn't actually supposed to be there til Tuesday night and the person she needed wasn't there, but... now I have backup for this baby and she said if I can't get it to eat the canned food to call her and she'll bring me some milk replacer, so cool. Now all I hafta do is find the little shit. And bake something. (And, no Dad, I don't wanna kill two birds with one stove, so to speak. I don't need no "cat recipes", thanks... *giggle*) Oh and here's two questions that have crossed my mind lately... If all the states have "Bureaus of Investigation" and they called themselves by the initials, like the Georgia office is called "the GBI" and in "Walking Tall", they referred to the one in Tennessee as "the TBI", what does the one in Florida call themselves?
And, can they be sued for copyright infringement for that?
Or be arrested for impersonating Federal Agents? Also... what does a person who doesn't like to or can't read do when they go shit?
Just shit?
Sit there, stare at a wall and shit? How utterly boring that must be. And, I still wonder from time to time how reeeeally reeeeally large women wipe themselves.
(This one ain't MY fault. It's PTSD from working at that dairy farm in Jersey with the two grossly fat sisters (both of whom had pretty lush moustaches) who both did things in the parlor bathroom that defied imagination.) I swear to God, when they shit, they just scraped their asses off on the back of the toilet seat.
And, sometimes, on the inside of the lid, too.
Plugged up the entire parlor drain system with what they did manage to get flushed on a regular basis. Ever since then, I've wondered how really fat chicks do that little task. Wasn't no way those two's arms were gonna reach their butts past those rolls of fat, ya know? Which may very well explain the "customizations" they did to the toilet at the farm... And, before anybody gives me grief or takes this shit wrong... no, I am not picking on people of size. I'm picking on those two disgusting dirtbags.
(Y'all don't EVEN wanna know what they did to their HOUSE bathroom... believe me.) And and, I never wonder this shit about big guys. Hell, I love big guys... Dom DeLuise, Drew Carey, Rob Reiner, Dennis Burkley...
I guess I just figure guys can handle it easily. Plus, I've never entered a bathroom behind a man that made me wanna run screaming... barring a coupla incidents involving smells... then burn the bathroom to the ground the way those two thaaaangs did at that farm. Which is making me think of the nasty shit every other female on the planet does in public restrooms, which annoys the HELL outta me, including having to use the men's room because other idiots who sit when they piss can't grasp the fact that this IS NOT the time to do a total overhaul on your face, hair, clothes and life. Just piss and get the fuck OUT. How hard does this shit need to be? And, when y'all piss? WIPE IT OFF THE FUCKIN' SEAT, YOU SCUMMY WENCHES!!!! *several minutes later* Wow man... from a kitten, to shitting, to yet another reason why some women make me chew my back teeth in less than... less than the number of words Stephen King used to write the original version of "The Stand".
(So far...) Gawd, I've got issues... Well... there it is!
The kitten has appeared.
I guess that's my cue to try again to teach this little waif to wanna eat canned food.
And, clean it's eyes.
And maybe try to ascertain what sex it is so I can quit calling the poor thing "it". Then bake something. And, never let those two activities overlap in any way.
(Especially with the fucked up excuse for a brain I currently have rollin' around inside my skull like so many rabbit turds...) Maybe I should go bake me before I get involved in this other stuff... Peace
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