June 2007

6/27/07
For those of you who are living under a rock or simply don't care about wrestling, turns out that Chris Benoit murdered his wife one day, murdered his seven year old son the next day and finally hung his worthless self on Sunday.

From what I've gleaned from the internet Chris Benoit has become an unperson.

happy, i reckon

This week is turning out to be very stressful for me. Everyone's coming out of the woodwork to get a short term loan for the upcoming holiday weekend. Funny that it's a holiday weekend when Independence Day is on a Wednesday.

Yet doing strength training over at Cassius's place with Jaybird in addition to hitting Chipotle afterwards and finally driving home and giving an appreciative ogle to this thick blonde at the 7-11 and watching this busty latina chick walk home on Uintah made for a decent evening.

so many cafts

One of the new neighbors has a tortie with longish hair. Hopefully she's allowed out on a semi-regular basis because I was afraid she got out and wanted to go back inside even though her human was unaware of her whereabouts. On Monday morning I spied the tortie and Bad Cat playing in the alleyway between the houses as I went to the car.

Over at Cassius's place there's a cat that Jaybird has named Petey. Petey is a girl but that doesn't seem to matter. Mrs. Cassius loves cats but she's dreadfully allergic to them. Tuesday night I watched her put on a mask and comb Petey.

During strength training there was some yowling and a black cat with a reflective yellow collar poked her head into the training room. Since Jaybird got to name one of the neighborhood cats, I dubbed this cat Mischief. Since she already has a collar everyone's certain that her home is nearby and just comes around to the Cassius residence to mooch because the neighborhood cats know a soft touch lives there.

I got to pet and pick up Mischief. This pleased me. Plus being all pumped up from the kettlebells, Mischief weighed absolutely nothing compared to the weights.

spot

Spot always jumps in my lap when I'm at the keyboard. She'll precariously balance on my left thigh while resting her front legs over my left arm which makes typing a chore. Eventually I plop her back on the floor and she'll begin the process all over again.

On Sunday I acquired a lovely cat pouch. I wear it like a backwards backpack and Spot fits inside the big pouch. She doesn't seem to be pleased by the prospect and I keep it nearby in case Spot decides to visit me for some attention.

by the by

I think that Cassius is going to run a little people campaign. Everyone's a dwarf, a halfling, a gnome or a svirfneblin like Jaybird's been itching to play.

For the uninitiated, you must be this this short to play.

damn eery sir

My dream started out pretty run-of-the-mill and was forgettable. Next everything took a left turn and I discovered that I was in a spacesuit wandering around on the face of Mercury. The sun blazed overhead taking up a third of the sky while I hobbled about on the broken and tortured terrain. One thing I noticed is that this tiny planet had rivers and pools of molten rock.

That's when I tripped, fell forward and tried to catch myself before my faceplate shattered against the ground. My right hand caught the ridge of a crater but got molten material splattered on the glove. Things became really hot and really uncomfortable in an eyeblink. I trudged as quickly as possible back to the lander. All the while I could feel my hand starting to cook.

In the safety of the lander I carefully removed the glove and discovered my palm was dark red and puffy with skin starting to peel in long strips. Reckon I was in so much pain that I wasn't able to truly feel the agony beyond the heat.