[Do you have the time to listen to me whine?]
Mmmmm ... Allegra. You make the air soft. If you've ever been on cold medicine, you know what I'm talking about.
I love Howie. He's a sweet cat. But the 2 a.m.-6 a.m. meowing sessions will need to come to a swift end soon. Because if there's one thing besides sarcasm I need to live, it's sleep. And there is no sleeping when a 13-pound cat jumps on top of you while you're trying to doze off, sticks his ass in your face, "makes biscuits" with his paws on your stomach, and meows like he's been abandoned underneath a bridge somewhere in BFE. Once every ten minutes. And there is no dozing off when you shut a 13-pound cat out of your bedroom, only to hear him put his little mouth to the crack underneath the door and meow right in your direction, over and over and over until you'd prefer having his ass in your face if he would just shut up.
Right now he's sleeping under the bed. Sleeping. Silently. Has been all day. I'm here, my fingers petting the keyboard instead of him, and he doesn't want anything to do with me. But as soon as my head hits the pillow, he's going to want to know why I don't love him more.
This is why I like ferrets; they don't give two shits about how much attention you're paying to them. In fact, they'd prefer it if you left them alone. They're sort of like roommates that you see in passing every now and then. Sometimes you hang out and have a good time, but most of the time those lazy, unemployed bastards are content to sleep 20 hours a day in underneath some big piece of furniture, sneaking bites of food when they're not too lazy to get up and get it.
Because I like him, I'm confident Howie will come around and learn to shut up and let us sleep. Otherwise, I'll be looking down back alleys for "doctors" who can do voicebox-removal surgery.
+++
I think we're going to the drive-in tonight to see the Red Eye and The Exorcism of Emily Rose double feature. This time we'll be armed with Off! so our feet don't suffer the dozens of mosquito bites they did the last time we sweated through a couple of movies.
I love Howie. He's a sweet cat. But the 2 a.m.-6 a.m. meowing sessions will need to come to a swift end soon. Because if there's one thing besides sarcasm I need to live, it's sleep. And there is no sleeping when a 13-pound cat jumps on top of you while you're trying to doze off, sticks his ass in your face, "makes biscuits" with his paws on your stomach, and meows like he's been abandoned underneath a bridge somewhere in BFE. Once every ten minutes. And there is no dozing off when you shut a 13-pound cat out of your bedroom, only to hear him put his little mouth to the crack underneath the door and meow right in your direction, over and over and over until you'd prefer having his ass in your face if he would just shut up.
Right now he's sleeping under the bed. Sleeping. Silently. Has been all day. I'm here, my fingers petting the keyboard instead of him, and he doesn't want anything to do with me. But as soon as my head hits the pillow, he's going to want to know why I don't love him more.
This is why I like ferrets; they don't give two shits about how much attention you're paying to them. In fact, they'd prefer it if you left them alone. They're sort of like roommates that you see in passing every now and then. Sometimes you hang out and have a good time, but most of the time those lazy, unemployed bastards are content to sleep 20 hours a day in underneath some big piece of furniture, sneaking bites of food when they're not too lazy to get up and get it.
Because I like him, I'm confident Howie will come around and learn to shut up and let us sleep. Otherwise, I'll be looking down back alleys for "doctors" who can do voicebox-removal surgery.
+++
I think we're going to the drive-in tonight to see the Red Eye and The Exorcism of Emily Rose double feature. This time we'll be armed with Off! so our feet don't suffer the dozens of mosquito bites they did the last time we sweated through a couple of movies.
posted by theogeo | 9/11/2005 04:30:00 PM
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