"Doink." That's all I know. May have something to do with the cat's piggy bank. (He's saving up for a house of his own.)
I got a snake tattoo at Bob's House of Wigglies. Then I took a nap. When I woke up, the cat was gone. So was the tattoo. The only clue was a note on the kitchen table, with one word: "HISS". This will require more research. #NowIHaveNoFriendsAtAll
If rats were as big as houses they'd never fit into the traps. And if rats were as big as houses they'd never come in through the toilet either. (Scares the snot out of the cat.)
Mom doesn't clean house any more since she's dead. Doesn't take care of the cats any more, because ditto, and they're dead too, so it's been up to me. Not that bad, especially since I'm the only one using the litter box any more, and the cats are easy to walk around.
Smoked my mother last night. She didn't want to be buried or incinerated like a pile of wet garbage either, and I couldn't agree to letting her "beloved cats" feed on her carcass either, so I just propped her up in the smokehouse for a month or so, shrink-wrapped the result, and now she's a garden gnome out back of the house. Pretty good at scaring away squirrels too. Not to mention some of the neighbors.
I built a house for my hamster, but he only pooped on the floor and disappeared into the heating duct, just like my wife. Ex-wife I guess I should say. Presumably. We'll have to send little Ralphie back into the HVAC system to do one last sweep of the system, and then I'm moving out. Take that, Melissa and Fuzzy-Butt.
I wrote a poem yesterday. I haven't done much of that lately. Then it farted and stunk up the whole house, so now I remember why.
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Me? Would be house-poor if I had one to be poor in.
