Alpha-bits.

Because there is simply too much cuteness in the world, I bring you mycathatesyou.com [link]

Andi, I wonder if those cats were first victimized at this site: [link]

Okay. I'm giving money. Now I have to decide how much.

Vortex's suggestion led me to determine if there is, in fact, a Starbucks in Macon, Ga. There is one.

iTunes gift card is also a good one.

Well, folks, I'm on a jury starting tomorrow. Joy!

Though there could be sex. Perhaps it could cure the Ick.

Please let me know if that works and I will fill a prescription myself.

Allergies- Tom is deathly allergic to cats (also a later in life thing) and fine with dogs. Crazy dander.

GODDAMN THIS FUCKING ICK.

I can't miss work tomorrow but getting out of my bed again (which is where I am going after I finish posting this) makes me want to cry. I've been crying and dozing and driving in traffic all day long, thought thankfully none of these at the same time.

I would also say GODDAMN THIS FUCKING DYING OF FATHERS LEAVING THREE HEARTBROKEN CHILDREN BEHIND. goddammit. Could my heart stop breaking please?

anyway, there it is, funeral on the ick. spreading illness to those who are having a much worse week than I am.

{{Nora}} I hope you sleep and wake up ick-less.

{{Three Heartbroken Children}}

{{Nora and other Ick sufferers}}

I do not appear to have the Ick, yet. A bit of post-nasal drip, but I'm not sure how much that may be allergies and/or pre-Ick drip. My poor daughter, though, does have the Ick. She had it when I got home, so it would appear the Ick is a Universal Ick and not a localized SF2F Ick. I think it's just the time for it. All the wet and now blossoming plants and mold and who knows what else floating around. Perfect breeding ground for Ick.

Poor Nora. I have the Ick and I can barely manage eating and drinking. I'm so sorry you have to deal with more bad things.

Why am I even typing? Nothing I type makes any sense.

So, one of my brothers is proposing to get a tattoo (this is the one with the nipple piercings), and he wants me to fund it. I do actually owe him money for a State of Origin ticket, but I still reckon this means I get to choose the tat.

Anyway, we just had the following email exchange:

Me: I had a workplace behaviour training session last week, about sexual harassment (for fun and profit). Main thing I took away from it was that it beggars belief that you haven't been sued yet.
Kez: Not only does it "beggars belief", but it also "buggers beef".
Me: You should work that into your next training session. "Ok, this next section is interactive. Any volunteers?"
Kez: Like "American Pie" in a parallel universe. But rather than "American Pie", the movie might be known as "Angus Beef".
Me: During the Napoleonic Wars, a French warship sank off England, and its sole survivor was a monkey, which washed up at Hartleford. The villagers hanged it; the article notes that it's unclear whether they knew it was a monkey, or were just unclear about the nature of Frenchmen. Anyway, the hartleford Football Club now has as its mascot a monkey called H'Angus. (One person to don the monkey suit managed to get himself into trouble for lewd acts during matches, and subsequently was elected mayor of Hartleford. And now you have your tattoo, and quite possibly role model.)
Kez: And what a lovely story it'll have behind it too.
"Tell me, why did you get a tattoo of a monkey sodomising a slab of beef?"
"Well, I'm glad you asked. There's a story behind it about football, frenchmen, the noose, mayors and perverted monkeys".

Everybody knows I suck, right?