Tuesday, January 5, 2016
TALKING TO MYSELF
Because I'm the only one here. I'm a good listener. And I can often empathize with myself. Well, fairly often, anyway.
Did I make any New Year resolutions this time around?
Nope, and let me explain why:
I'm the only person I know who can actually break the resolutions as I'm writing them. Example:
1. I will abstain from cursing in 2016.
Aw, shit! My #!!!**%!! pen is running out of ink!
Yesterday I exhausted my repertoire of foul language when I accidentally knocked over a nearly-full can of Coke and it saturated my laptop and new keyboard. Try cleaning that up without cursing.
This annoyingly cold weather is making me lethargic and irritable to live with. I'm at the point where I can't tolerate myself, and that's nearly an impossibility. I stayed up 'till dawn last night, making sure the water pipes didn't freeze like they did last year.
This is an incredibly cold house. Sometimes I can actually see my breath coming out in white puffs. Indoors.
I have unwholesome visions of freezing to death - and when I thaw out the cats will gleefully eat me.
Bosco always sleeps on my bed and lately he snuggles up close under the covers. He's kind of like a purring hot water bottle.
Speaking of cats, I have yet another incredible cat story.
I was trying to pull my boots on this morning and something obstructed my foot from going in. Something was in the bottom of one boot.
I immediately knew it was the handiwork of one of the cats - most assuredly Scruffy.
I immediately feared the worst. Something dead. A mouse? Nope, too big. It was heavy like a rock.
I emptied the boot and out rolled a potato! I kid you not. How the hell did a cat get a potato into a boot?
I had a small open bag of potatoes on the kitchen counter. I had left my boots on the floor, not too far away. Anything is possible with felines.
I suppose a potato in a boot is preferable to a dead mouse in my bed - which they've done before.
Incidentally, these were the beautiful new boots that I completely ruined when I went over the cliff in Arkansas and was up to my hips in mud on a rainy night. I put that old post on my blog sidebar, in case anyone is interested - which I doubt.
I'm tempted to eliminate all the crap on mine but I'm too lazy. I'd especially like to get rid of the "Followers" thingie, which is ridiculous. To have "followers" makes my blog sound like a cult and makes me feel like Rasputin.
I used to have lots of followers on my old blog. Ever since I started this "new" blog my readership dropped drastically. I only attract a few random lurkers, and a very few faithful readers who truly appreciate my humble literary efforts and annoyingly enigmatic personality. They have incredibly good taste.
I'm drinking some beer while writing this post. I very seldom drink anymore - mainly because alcohol is hard to get in these Baptist-infested wilds of Tennessee. In Texas I was drunk all the time.
This one-sided conversation is getting too long.