First, I have an ode to Miss Laura. Miss Laura is my beloved obese feline companion for 13 years. She's so damn sassy.
How wide my country
How vast my fields and streams
How large and in charge my felines
How bitter is the wine that you drink Miss Laura?
If you were human you would be Lil' Kim,
but you ain't goin' to no god damn jail.
You forever live in my heart
...Big big big
You're just fucking fat.
I took you to the vet and they said nothing was wrong with you
...you're just a really fucking fat cat.
But it makes you soooo cuddly.
And you are so god damn adorable.
You be the Marlon Brando of cats.
We snuggle for eternity wrapped in bacon.
What am I doing with my day off? I have begun drinking at this sweet hour. I have had no sleep for the most part of the weekend. Why? I keep dreaming about the apocalypse whenever I sleep, therefore I awake feeling weird. I feel like my ex-roommate Dame Darcy. She worked the apocalypse into every conversation. Example:
Dame Darcy: "How was school today Ari?"
Me: "I went well."
Dame Darcy: "It's a shame that the apocalypse is going to happen, so you will never complete your degree."
Don't you love finding roommates on Craigs? Least I forget ERIN COOPER, my roommate in SF. She would always try to touch me in ways that I did not want to be touched by her, and she would always argue with her Blythe Doll. She was into Dame Darcy....lesson learned.
I'm memorializing Miss Laura today. But she's ALIVE! But so cuddly. And Tom Waits is the greatest ever. Again, somebody PLEASE BUY ME TICKETS TO GO SEE THE BLACK RIDER AT THE AHMENSON THEATRE.