Good morning.
I am at my parents' house being mobbed by cats, and at the moment, a particular little cat who enjoys typing on my computer.
&Yyyyyykll,;, Hello to you too, Lou.
Life's not so bad out here. I remind myself of a parasite, like one of those sucker fish that you put in with your goldfish to eat all the algae out of the inside of your tank. Only I eat leftovers.
From what I'm told, babies are kind of like parasites in people's bodies. If you stick a foetus in a man's abdomen, it will live there pretty normally as a parasite until it has to come out. My mom always says I'm her baby, so I think that justifies it.
Some of the leftovers are pretty dubious looking, but when push comes to shove I'm not all that picky. For breakfast today I ate something with clams in it, and perhaps some pasta, though you can never quite tell with these things. I also ate some of whatever we had for dinner on August 4th. Whatever that was. Someone has to do these things.
They got new toothbrushes a while ago and I'm not quite used to them just yet. They're very space-age, with bristles sticking in every possible direction to attack every possible crevace in your teeth and little rubber tentacles that massage your gums into submission. They all combine to make a contraption that is entirely too big for me to stick in my mouth and hope to get every tooth.
Ah, but it's better that way. At least with all these newfangled features your teeth will finally be clean. Like mine weren't before.
The handles of these toothbrushes are like gripping hot dog weiners, rubber hot dog weiners.
We are in the middle of baking the mother of all strawberry shortcakes for my grandmother, because it's her 90th birthday today.
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