Okay, I finally swam, I did a five-or-five, that's five minutes or five laps, whichever comes first. Man that was refreshing!
Ben and Spence took a field trip down the hall because we were all just laying around feeling bored yesterday afternoon. Spence was unsurprisingly skittish, but Ben was unnervingly not. A number of people came up through the elevator and said "hi" to him, and I was a little worried so I kept calling him back, but he didn't come until I actually walked out next to him. I think he may be planning an escape.
My parents threatened to come up and see me this weekend, but luckily my brother, with their grandchildren, was just a little more appealing.
I can't figure out if there's air conditioning... Is there air conditioning? Strange question to ask in San Francisco, I know, but what with global warming and everything, I think it's a fair one. It's probaby next to the can opener.
Man, I'm tired. Okay, it's a Monday. Ooff!
Charlie
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Butt Lickin' Good!
Well, that's a semi-repulsive title, if I ever saw one, and it was inspired by Ben, the resident butt-licker extraordinaire.
More vomit from Spence. It must've happened after I left in the morning, so when I got back and stepped in it, it was pretty much all dried out and easy to clean, especially since it was on the rug. Phew! That's what I call good luck!
I have to confess that I've never used a dishwasher before, so I tried to set it up to run at 5pm today. We'll find out if it worked when I get home. I do like the idea of putting all the dishes in a drawer, closing it, coming back after work and having them all come out clean. I do something similar with my laundry sometimes. I throw the dirty laundry in a pile, and I'll pick it up a few days later only to discover, that even though it didn't get washed, lo and behold, it's magically clean. Sort of. More clean than it was. I think.
Yesterday morning I screwed up, and I guess I was half asleep, but while I was feeding the cats, I was just, I guess, hungry and it smelled pretty good, so I put a spoonful in my mouth. Yeah, well, it was weird, because I couldn't believe I did it, so I started laughing, only my mouth was full of whatever that stuff is, so I've got wet cat food spewing down my chin. So, I spit it out in the sink and I pretty much got it all out, you know, except for the gravy, which actually isn't too bad. Anyways, that was pretty much the most exciting thing that happened.
Well, I hope you all still respect me. That last part is a total lie, but it's the in thing these days, these kind of fictitious memoirs. I'm not sure where the beer went though.
Charlie
More vomit from Spence. It must've happened after I left in the morning, so when I got back and stepped in it, it was pretty much all dried out and easy to clean, especially since it was on the rug. Phew! That's what I call good luck!
I have to confess that I've never used a dishwasher before, so I tried to set it up to run at 5pm today. We'll find out if it worked when I get home. I do like the idea of putting all the dishes in a drawer, closing it, coming back after work and having them all come out clean. I do something similar with my laundry sometimes. I throw the dirty laundry in a pile, and I'll pick it up a few days later only to discover, that even though it didn't get washed, lo and behold, it's magically clean. Sort of. More clean than it was. I think.
Yesterday morning I screwed up, and I guess I was half asleep, but while I was feeding the cats, I was just, I guess, hungry and it smelled pretty good, so I put a spoonful in my mouth. Yeah, well, it was weird, because I couldn't believe I did it, so I started laughing, only my mouth was full of whatever that stuff is, so I've got wet cat food spewing down my chin. So, I spit it out in the sink and I pretty much got it all out, you know, except for the gravy, which actually isn't too bad. Anyways, that was pretty much the most exciting thing that happened.
Well, I hope you all still respect me. That last part is a total lie, but it's the in thing these days, these kind of fictitious memoirs. I'm not sure where the beer went though.
Charlie
Heavy Petting
Dinner was lamb stew over rice with an Suburban Loaf from Arizmendi. Livin' La Vida Loca! And the Green Can for the kitties.
Brian, a question: Is it possible to get sick of Chinese food? Let me know.
Okay, it was probably my fault for playing favorites, but I think Ben has fallen into a bit of a funk. Basically, I've been giving Spence the lion's share of attention. Not on purpose, but you put your hand out and the guy practically pets himself. Not Ben, noooo, he sits there on MY side of the bed and swishes his tail, waiting for me to come over and give him the royal treatment. Ben couldn't take it when Spence jumped up on the bed and walked right over him to pursue my attentions, so he threw a few punches. Luckily Spence is oblivious and barely noticed. Also, Ben is overeating. I think this has been going on for a while, but I'm pretty sure he's the one who is getting up in the middle of the night to polish off all the dry food. Plus, he's always a little peeved that I haven't done the kitty litter right away in the morning. I'm a little concerned about him and him, since he's got the girth of two. So, I started giving him more attention and I let him sit on my lap while I had my quiet time. When I left this morning, his motor was running, and he was trying to melt all over the floor in the morning sun. Still, I have to recommend therapy. For the cat.
Note to self: Keep Spence out of the bedroom during the pre-vomit period immediately following din-din. That's right, he did it in the bedroom next to the bed, after the Green Can with the candlestick (for all you Clue lovers out there). Anyway, I had the Resolve, so I knew what to do and how to do it. Plus, did I ever mention that I had a cat for 20 years? I've been dealing with cat stuff since I was five! FIVE, I'll have you know. He knew he had done wrong, he pretty much made himself scarce after that for, oh, about 2 minutes until he needed another good petting.
I've decided to put the cats to work around the apartment. With all that nice long hair, why not use them as dust mops? I'm thinking I'm going to hog-tie them, attach a handle and push them around the floor. Maybe I'll wet Ben down and do some regular mopping if we're feeling energetic. Then again, maybe I'll just lay around and watch them play with the vacuum. Whatever. In any case I'm going to have to clean up after the party.
Well, things are great here Brian, hope you're having a good time in the city formerly known as Peking.
Regards,
Charlie
Brian, a question: Is it possible to get sick of Chinese food? Let me know.
Okay, it was probably my fault for playing favorites, but I think Ben has fallen into a bit of a funk. Basically, I've been giving Spence the lion's share of attention. Not on purpose, but you put your hand out and the guy practically pets himself. Not Ben, noooo, he sits there on MY side of the bed and swishes his tail, waiting for me to come over and give him the royal treatment. Ben couldn't take it when Spence jumped up on the bed and walked right over him to pursue my attentions, so he threw a few punches. Luckily Spence is oblivious and barely noticed. Also, Ben is overeating. I think this has been going on for a while, but I'm pretty sure he's the one who is getting up in the middle of the night to polish off all the dry food. Plus, he's always a little peeved that I haven't done the kitty litter right away in the morning. I'm a little concerned about him and him, since he's got the girth of two. So, I started giving him more attention and I let him sit on my lap while I had my quiet time. When I left this morning, his motor was running, and he was trying to melt all over the floor in the morning sun. Still, I have to recommend therapy. For the cat.
Note to self: Keep Spence out of the bedroom during the pre-vomit period immediately following din-din. That's right, he did it in the bedroom next to the bed, after the Green Can with the candlestick (for all you Clue lovers out there). Anyway, I had the Resolve, so I knew what to do and how to do it. Plus, did I ever mention that I had a cat for 20 years? I've been dealing with cat stuff since I was five! FIVE, I'll have you know. He knew he had done wrong, he pretty much made himself scarce after that for, oh, about 2 minutes until he needed another good petting.
I've decided to put the cats to work around the apartment. With all that nice long hair, why not use them as dust mops? I'm thinking I'm going to hog-tie them, attach a handle and push them around the floor. Maybe I'll wet Ben down and do some regular mopping if we're feeling energetic. Then again, maybe I'll just lay around and watch them play with the vacuum. Whatever. In any case I'm going to have to clean up after the party.
Well, things are great here Brian, hope you're having a good time in the city formerly known as Peking.
Regards,
Charlie
Night of the Living Dead
Found my belt!
Where is the damn can opener? How's a bachelor supposed to eat without a can opener?
Cats are actually zombies in disguise. They just want to eat your brains, or destroy them, or distract you to no end so you can't think and it rots away slowly into a big gob of snuggly goo. Last night they continued their sleep deprivation experiments. About every hour or so Spencer would tickle my face with his whiskers or purr in my ear, or jump on the bed just above my head. I never knew that snuggling could be so anxiety producing. I think Spencers job was to perform the experiments while Ben sat at the end of the bed taking notes. I may just close the bedroom door tonight, although I'm a little worried about the possible percussive repercussions.
As it is, by my calculations, it takes me almost twice as long to get anything done at the Fawkes home. I mean, something as simple as brushing teeth:
1. Pet cat.
2. Wash hands.
3. Pick cat up off sink and deposit in bedroom.
4. Other cat rubs on leg, must pet.
5. First cat gives snide look and flicks tail.
6. Pet first cat again.
7. Wash hands.
8. Begin brushing teeth.
Luckily I've begun practicing an ancient mental discipline. Every time I get into one of these seemingly difficult positions I ask myself this one simple question that, like a machete, cuts a path through the vines of kitty morass, clears the way, and propels me onward toward my destiny: "What would Brian Fawkes do?"
Spencer has a potentially serious self-esteem problem, and it's a good thing that he's kept cloistered. If any other cat (aside from our good friend Ben) heard such a frail squeeky voice coming out of this Adonis, well I guess we'd find out what it sounds like to hear a cat guffaw. The first time I heard it, I thought the cat could mew in falsetto. Nay, dear reader, 'tis a big cat carrying a small voice. Please don't tell him I said that. It would break his heart. I'm sure of it.
I almost went into the pool last night. I think I'll almost go in again tonight. Seriously, once you're up on floor 11, it's hard to get back down.
Regards,
Charlie
Where is the damn can opener? How's a bachelor supposed to eat without a can opener?
Cats are actually zombies in disguise. They just want to eat your brains, or destroy them, or distract you to no end so you can't think and it rots away slowly into a big gob of snuggly goo. Last night they continued their sleep deprivation experiments. About every hour or so Spencer would tickle my face with his whiskers or purr in my ear, or jump on the bed just above my head. I never knew that snuggling could be so anxiety producing. I think Spencers job was to perform the experiments while Ben sat at the end of the bed taking notes. I may just close the bedroom door tonight, although I'm a little worried about the possible percussive repercussions.
As it is, by my calculations, it takes me almost twice as long to get anything done at the Fawkes home. I mean, something as simple as brushing teeth:
1. Pet cat.
2. Wash hands.
3. Pick cat up off sink and deposit in bedroom.
4. Other cat rubs on leg, must pet.
5. First cat gives snide look and flicks tail.
6. Pet first cat again.
7. Wash hands.
8. Begin brushing teeth.
Luckily I've begun practicing an ancient mental discipline. Every time I get into one of these seemingly difficult positions I ask myself this one simple question that, like a machete, cuts a path through the vines of kitty morass, clears the way, and propels me onward toward my destiny: "What would Brian Fawkes do?"
Spencer has a potentially serious self-esteem problem, and it's a good thing that he's kept cloistered. If any other cat (aside from our good friend Ben) heard such a frail squeeky voice coming out of this Adonis, well I guess we'd find out what it sounds like to hear a cat guffaw. The first time I heard it, I thought the cat could mew in falsetto. Nay, dear reader, 'tis a big cat carrying a small voice. Please don't tell him I said that. It would break his heart. I'm sure of it.
I almost went into the pool last night. I think I'll almost go in again tonight. Seriously, once you're up on floor 11, it's hard to get back down.
Regards,
Charlie
First Night
7:23pm Arrival
I peer through the door, in the twilight 2 pairs of feline eyes peer back at me; fear, trepidation, curiosity. I enter, doff my cap, and rest for a moment. I had intended to arrive much earlier but was waylaid due to classified spy work I perform for the homeland security department. I had three more loads to bring up. By the time I opened the door for the fourth time, I get a look from Ben that says, "Oh, you again.", and Spencer is too busy to greet. Clearly I am hired help, and they are becoming impatient.
8:00 I quickly rifled through the book of instructions, the few chapter headings that stood out, like "Vomit" and "Kitty Litter" did not bode well. Turning to page 29, I find the section on food. Blue in the morning, green at night. Gravy. Rinse. I got it right. Spencer at the wet food. Ben did not. At first, I was proud of Spencer...
8:17 I hear a hideous chugging coming from under the kitchen table. If the cat were a car, it would have been trying to start, but just turning over and over. Spence vomits up all the food he just ate under the kitchen table (thank GOD it's on the floor and not the rug). I flip through the pages to Vomit, Chapter 7, page 43- blue bottle, paper towels, wipe wipe. When Brian proposed paying me for staying in his tony condo, I demured. How could I accept recompense for living in this swank urban retreat? I'll tell you how!!
8:30 I begin putting away my groceries. Man does not live on Wine and Brie alone. It's a spectator sport. Ben, perched on the stove, and Spencer on the table, judge my form. I think I got a 5.5. I'll work on it.
I skip dinner. I'm too damn tired. I unpack. I walk around trying to find simple things that ought to be in obvious places, but which I can't find anywhere. I begin leafing through Brian's novella- "Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About My Condo, But Were Afraid to Ask".
9:21 I take a break and sit on the sofa. Seizing the opportunity to shed on my clothing, Ben lobs himself deftly onto my lap. The rest of the evening is a blurr but I wind up in bed. How I got there, I'm not sure.
12:43am I awaken, briefly, to find Spencer measuring my head while Ben holds me down. I'm not sure, maybe they're prepping me for brain surgery. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time.
5:34 I beat my alarm. Yes! I win! Wait, oh, what a drag. I need more sleep. I force myself to lay there. I lay there. I lay there some more. Continuing to lay there, I begin to think,... I hear an electronic beeping.
6:00 It's the alarm. I lay there. I force myself to get up. Oh joy! Ben and Spence are just soooooooo happy to see me. I think they're starving. Little do I suspect that I've been remiss in my duties and forgot to empty the litter box last night. Darnit! Never again!
6-6:30 CENSORED by Homeland Security.
6:30 I feed the cats. As soon as they're through eating, they take off. Ben harvests the last vestiges of warm emanating from the bed. Spencer is underneath working on his plans to take over the world through belly rubs.
7:00 I eat. Where is the measuring cup?! Where is a bowl?! Where are the spoons?! Where is the tea pot?! Oh my god! There's no tea pot!
7:15 Dressing. I forgot my belt at home!
7:30 Where is the car?! Where is the kitty poo recycling can?! I forgot my hat. I forgot my wallet. How do you back out of here? Oh man, how am I going to get the car back in. Argh! This is so relaxing I could just kill myself.
I peer through the door, in the twilight 2 pairs of feline eyes peer back at me; fear, trepidation, curiosity. I enter, doff my cap, and rest for a moment. I had intended to arrive much earlier but was waylaid due to classified spy work I perform for the homeland security department. I had three more loads to bring up. By the time I opened the door for the fourth time, I get a look from Ben that says, "Oh, you again.", and Spencer is too busy to greet. Clearly I am hired help, and they are becoming impatient.
8:00 I quickly rifled through the book of instructions, the few chapter headings that stood out, like "Vomit" and "Kitty Litter" did not bode well. Turning to page 29, I find the section on food. Blue in the morning, green at night. Gravy. Rinse. I got it right. Spencer at the wet food. Ben did not. At first, I was proud of Spencer...
8:17 I hear a hideous chugging coming from under the kitchen table. If the cat were a car, it would have been trying to start, but just turning over and over. Spence vomits up all the food he just ate under the kitchen table (thank GOD it's on the floor and not the rug). I flip through the pages to Vomit, Chapter 7, page 43- blue bottle, paper towels, wipe wipe. When Brian proposed paying me for staying in his tony condo, I demured. How could I accept recompense for living in this swank urban retreat? I'll tell you how!!
8:30 I begin putting away my groceries. Man does not live on Wine and Brie alone. It's a spectator sport. Ben, perched on the stove, and Spencer on the table, judge my form. I think I got a 5.5. I'll work on it.
I skip dinner. I'm too damn tired. I unpack. I walk around trying to find simple things that ought to be in obvious places, but which I can't find anywhere. I begin leafing through Brian's novella- "Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About My Condo, But Were Afraid to Ask".
9:21 I take a break and sit on the sofa. Seizing the opportunity to shed on my clothing, Ben lobs himself deftly onto my lap. The rest of the evening is a blurr but I wind up in bed. How I got there, I'm not sure.
12:43am I awaken, briefly, to find Spencer measuring my head while Ben holds me down. I'm not sure, maybe they're prepping me for brain surgery. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time.
5:34 I beat my alarm. Yes! I win! Wait, oh, what a drag. I need more sleep. I force myself to lay there. I lay there. I lay there some more. Continuing to lay there, I begin to think,... I hear an electronic beeping.
6:00 It's the alarm. I lay there. I force myself to get up. Oh joy! Ben and Spence are just soooooooo happy to see me. I think they're starving. Little do I suspect that I've been remiss in my duties and forgot to empty the litter box last night. Darnit! Never again!
6-6:30 CENSORED by Homeland Security.
6:30 I feed the cats. As soon as they're through eating, they take off. Ben harvests the last vestiges of warm emanating from the bed. Spencer is underneath working on his plans to take over the world through belly rubs.
7:00 I eat. Where is the measuring cup?! Where is a bowl?! Where are the spoons?! Where is the tea pot?! Oh my god! There's no tea pot!
7:15 Dressing. I forgot my belt at home!
7:30 Where is the car?! Where is the kitty poo recycling can?! I forgot my hat. I forgot my wallet. How do you back out of here? Oh man, how am I going to get the car back in. Argh! This is so relaxing I could just kill myself.
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