This time I’m not going to write about my cat peeing on all sorts of stuff that isn’t kitty litter.
I’m going to explain the wreckage of past and present. The destruction left in her wake. I know wake is a noun referencing past events but let’s imagine she’s still speeding along in a cigarette boat. That way the expression works a little better.
I didn’t think I would have to write tonight as an interview I did with a UK radio station was broadcast live. I assumed it would go up on YouTube immediately after because I’m that important.
Well, just a few minutes back realized I missed not only the broadcast but that it wouldn’t magically go on Youtube seconds later. I need to write. So here I am. With nothing.
I went out today to buy a cat-pee tarp.
My cat Pantaloons has a problem with inappropriate elimination. I’ve written about it on this blog at least a dozen times. Over the years I’ve tried a number of solutions including rubbing Prozac in her ears. Every so often, no matter what, she pees on my comforter or clothes left on the ground. After a lot of research online I’ve determined that this is probably just a brain glitch that can’t be corrected. If I’m wrong and one day I find a solution, awesome.
Remember watching HBO when you were a kid, and when an R rated movie came on like Angel Heart or Hardbodies 2, you sat with eager anticipation of the warnings that would display right before the film started? As a boy, the best I could hope for was “nudity.” Although, often times, if there wasn't nudity in a movie, there still might be “adult situations.” This usually meant that there was some dialog in the movie pertaining to sex. Good enough.
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
