the monkey and i are going through some shit right now.

gift cards

has anybody found their $5 gift card yet?

there's always one that ruins it for the rest of them.

like a cat tied to a stick that's driven into frozen winter shit - the ability to laugh at weakness

my cat is gone. didn't come back thursday evening. it has hailed once and rained several times since then.  probably safe to say he's gone the way of the dodo.  no point in a grown man going on about his missing cat.  that'd be odd to say the least.

please don't think i'm one of those cable-knit sweater wearing folks.  i don't consider myself one of those "pet parents".  at least i think i'm not.  i can't bring myself to even pick up dog shit when walking the dogs, if i walk the dogs at all.  there is, however, a nice elementary school up the street.  the makeshift football field serves as an excellent depository.  

 i'm not even a cat person, though i radiate cat guy.  Sushi was actually a substitute child for an old relationship.  she wanted kids, i wanted not-kids.  not-kids sounded so much easier on the spirit, pocketbook, and intestines. we had been apartment dwelling for years and neither of us had the time or energy for a dog.  a damn cat just seemed practical and potentially mindless.  

  

after The Great Schism i was granted full custody of the damn cat.  she wanted nothing to do with Sushi.  not that i blame her.  Sushi had it in for her.  there had been various attempts on her life - but the cat lacked thumbs and funding: the true weapons of a killer.  

i guess the point is this: don't own cats.  

the burbs

Chris made his way up the neatly manicured driveway.  Sheets of slate and the extended arm of a summer-stung butterfly bush occupied the northern side.  It's in bad taste, but commonplace, to peek through your neighbor's window - but he seemed to wear bad taste like a neon badge of courage.  Her sickly dog was laying within eyeshot of the window.

He knocked.  Then rang.

After another 45 seconds of window gazing and nonchalant poses, he turned to leave.  The sound of the pneumatic cylinder from the screen door interrupted his gate.

"Oh hey!" said Linda.

"I was beginning to think you were still asleep."
Linda had a sheepish look.  She exuded "I wasn't expecting company and haven't expected company for years".

"What's going on, Chris?"
Chris had planned on how to tell Linda they would be having a party while remaining from offering an invitation - nothing personal, she just wouldn't have a good time.

"Soooooooooo.  I know you're selling you house..."
"Uh, huh", said Linda.

"Well if you need any help, you know, with the trees and branches or whatever-"
"I don't need any help".  Linda was painfully independent.

"Okay", said Chris. "Not a problem.  I just figured everybody could use an extra set of hands."
 He looked through the living room window and noticed her aging Pomeranian sleeping in a dog bed just below the windowsill.

Linda slowly crept towards him.
"I've been force feeding the dog for about a month.  I just don't have the heart to put her down.  And shortly after the other dog died off this one started going down hill."

Chris felt it.  That long, sweeping, involved, depressing one-way conversation about an old lady and her sickly canines. The sensation was on par with that guttural urge to run when Jehovah's Witnesses mosey up your driveway.  There was no way to cleanly diffuse this exchange.  It didn't matter how diplomatically  

i'll say it...

Mexicans cannot drive.
Not people of Mexican heritage who grew up in the states (though most people from the states can't drive) and went to school here, I mean Mexicans from El Mexico.

Here's a scene from a few months ago:

Location: Loop 12, Irving - Near the Frito Lay plant
Time: circa 3:00 pm, sunny, light traffic
Car runs into the back of a truck while changing lanes.
Both vehicles slow down.  The truck proudly displays the last name of (insert stereotypical Hispanic last name) in Olde Englishe fonte.  They acknowledge their common ancestry (while still driving), wave each other off, and go their separate ways.  The car exits, the truck heads down Loop 12.

So what happened?  That was either a collision of the two most understanding parties in the world OR one idiot driver hitting a poor, unassuming bastard and neither one had  insurance.

How come I don't hear anything like that while all these sub-par politicians are campaigning?
When are they going to make pharmacy drive thru  windows faster?
When are the garbage collectors legally going to have to take all of the garbage?  Not just what's in the can - maybe a bag or some broken down boxes.
And salad bars!  You make me a salad!  If I'm going to pay the graduated cost of food at your restaurant you can make me a damn salad.

I'm thinking of starting my own political party: Don't Vote.
Our signs would read "Vote Don't Vote" and "Don't Voters Vote Don't Vote".
We would be a modest collection of disenfranchised, late-20s to mid-30s, white males that would never have the decency to register to vote.  Did you know that registering to vote puts you in the pool for jury duty?  No?  It does.  I know it seems like I'm pissing away a freedom, but that's what freedom is all about.  I read that in Cosmo.

In summary, if you're driving Texas please watch out for radio station bumper stickers that say things like "Que buena!" or "El Mejor".

Also look at some of your clothes tags.  It might say Hecho en China.  That means "made in China" in Spanish.  What the hell?

updates and shizz

Annie and our finished chandelier.  

Sushi - album idea.
Annie and I actually made the background - no Photoshoppin' around!

Thhhhhhhhhhhhee band.  Photo by Annie.

Album art.
Finished lights upside down.
Again, no editing!

what's the matter? - the cats got my...

blood pressure through the fucking roof.

i got the electronic collar for the cats.
yeah, kinda lame.
Tele is not a fan.
i moved in with annie.  i've now taken it upon myself to shock my cats into staying near the house so they know i love them forever and ever (and ever).  i don't like the idea of zapping them.  i hate the idea of giving them to somebody else even more.  yes they are horrible, but they are my horribles.  plus they're cats.  if we can't manage two cats and two dogs we should just start sleeping in tanning beds to ensure our reproductive organs are thoroughly dehydrated.

of course i tested the fence on myself! who wouldn't?
not pleasant...not painful.  i didn't do it like Jackass or anything.  just to the fingers.  i wouldn't subject an animal to something i couldn't handle (except the Irish).
over THE NEXT 30 DAYS i have to train my cats how to live within the confines of an invisible field of electromagnetism.  it's a lot like Lost, but with more feces and crying.
i'm thinking of spray painting a big, white number "9" on Sushi.  let's see what the neighbors think then.
i also have a feeling that everybody thinks we're hoarders as well (we are a little). our weekly trash heap seems a lot more eclectic and larger  than the others on our street.  it's honestly from all the "home improvement" we've been doing...and we're wasteful.  but i guess it doesn't matter, because scientists said the Ozone layer is fixed?
really?  did i hear that correctly this morning?  i'm generally sleepwalking until 10 am or so.  it's all impulse

 i could google that.
hold on...
holy shit.  it's just digital arguing.  enough of that.