"If you really loved me, would you go so far as to set yourself on fire?" asked my love, Echinoia Eeeps, as she gently pushed a box of matches across the table toward me. It so happened that just about then she had also gifted me a set of fireproof underwear, for my birthday. There must be meaning buried somewhere in here. Makes a person wonder though, doesn't it?
My love, Echinoia Eeeps, has been unusually quiet for an unusually long time now. We're expecting the inevitable eruption at any moment, which is how it goes. I've already got my helmet on. Been wearing it for weeks, in fact.
My love, Echinoia Eeeps, told me to get lost. (She likes to hunt me.) I now have six minutes to hide in the forest.
My love, Echinoia Eeeps, said I'm a dick, or should get one, or something else that maybe I'm not quite clear on. Maybe she meant "duck". Or "deck", but if she meant "dock", then I'd probably need a boat to round out my outfit, though she didn't offer to raise my allowance to pay for it, so maybe she did say "deck", but that in turn raises whole bunches of other issues, which leaves us at "dack", which I can understand, sort of, because it makes no sense at all, which is normal around here. I'm betting on "dack" then. Wish me luck.
My love, Echinoia Eeeps, rented a mouse from the mouse-rental people, "Skweeks-R-Us". She's going to try it out as a cat trainer. She has cats, don't you know, and some need training and some need refresher courses, and if you want a good trainer, go get one whose life depends on knowing their shit, because they need to get it right the first time. The only time — do or die, right or rot, launch or lunch. And if you rent-a-mouse it's not your problem, is it? Only thing is no one trains the mice for this, so that's where I come in. My mouse outfit arrives in a day or two, and I have to wear it to convince our rental mouse that I'm its big brother and know all about this. The cats are already laughing, especially Clem, the Bengal tiger. He's nobody's fool, is Clem. Me? Not sure yet. I guess it depends on if my mouse outfit is the right size this time.
My love, Echinoia Eeeps, said she's giving up small arms and tactical training, and going back to knitting. Will give it a try and see how it goes, she said. I myself am not so sure. I do have to admit though that she's the only person I know who can knit an entire wire mesh fence in one afternoon. Pretty good at arm wrestling too. And she bites. (That was one lesson that I had to learn the hard way.)
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@gmail.com
Me? Just trying to stay up to date on my squeaks.
