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Toxic waste disposal


September 26, 2006 - 3:41 p.m.

The world is safe from the Arizona Jack's Desert Star Original Beef Jerk Menace. Last night on my way home, I went over and stuck the other bag of it in Avery's mailbox. If he doesn't eat it, he can feed it to his dogs. They'll probably puke, too.

I had a series of really strange dreams last night, including one where I was married to my long-ago girlfriend Stacy and threw her out of the house. The house wasn't the house I live in now, nor was it the house she and I shared fifteen years ago, but sort of a strange amalgam of both of them. It was odd. In another dream some cop in an unmarked car rammed the driver's-side door of the Passat TDI in the parking lot of some convenience store, with no warning at all. He and I then had a really long argument and he went away and somehow the big dent in the car door healed itself. The last dream was rather fuzzy and I don't remember a great deal about it, but several women from the recent past were in it somewhere.

The cats were quite friendly when I got home last night... I pulled out the catnip and even Phil and Tucker ambled over and had some, though of course Tucker only let me touch him briefly. One of these days, I should just grab him and lock us in the bathroom for an entire day, so he can see I'm not about to whack him with an iron bar or something. I have no idea why he and he alone has this weird concern about me. It's not that he's not curious about me... if I'm in the bathroom, I'll open the door and he'll be right there outside the door, right before he runs away. If I close the door, he'll come back within a minute. He just doesn't want to be too close. So, I figure I'll put some food and water and drinks (for me) in the bathroom where we really can't escape each other, and then just do some aversion therapy with him (as well as playing with his toes and telling him how elegant he looks).

It's a lot of work having caaaaaaaaaaaats.

I'll be up at Suzanne's again this weekend, to move a television that didn't get moved last weekend thanks to some miscommunication on the part of a friend of hers. "He has a truck" turned out to really mean, "he showed up with a Saturn Ion." Hopefully the pulled muscles in the bottom of my back will have healed enough by then. For now, all they do is make life painful and make leaning over to lift the toilet seat difficult. And yes, I am one of those guys who closes the toilet lid even if I'm the only person in my house. Really.


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