I Have Cat Duty
I hate being in a car, driver or passenger, for any length of time. This trip is fifteen minutes out, fifteen back, but I usually hang out over a mug of tea, something to read and a comfortable couch upon which I ponder the mysteries of the universe and make my report here. These are my thoughts for the day.
On the way over, I passed a sign which read: “Basement Garage Sale.” Apparently, the germ “garage sale” or “yard sale” has gone fairly generic and you can have one pretty much anywhere you’d like. In this case, the basement.
Reminds me a bit of when I heard a cop on the scanner coming in to hq to fill out “a non-reportable accident report.” Look, guys, if the participants in the demolition derby didn’t feel they needed to report it, why do you? They settled between themselves and left.
When I got to my friend’s house, there was a car next door with a bumper sticker telling us to “Boycott BP.” Well, that bothers me on two levels. (1) It only hurts your local gas station owner and (2) who are you to tell me what to do? Everybody in The Land Of The Free has a cause and that’s fine; just don’t think I care.
Now it’s time for me to get over there and feed the kitty.