2 Naked Cats "Cat Box"

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Apr 26

The Britney Chronicles, or why the world is flat [Part 1]

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Britney … hired a doctor to advise her on how to keep her tot safe. The doctor advised her not to leave Preston on any high surfaces where he could roll off… Spears was so impressed with the sage advice that she wanted to hire the doctor full time, but he told her that it wasn?t necessary.

Come on… Does anyone really give a damn about BS and her white trash brood? Why did I waste my time on this? Next time I think about posting something like this, I think I’ll go get a hammer and hit myself in the head.

Oh, yeah, and then there’s Madonna. She’s coming to Fresno to do whatever it is she does; which isn’t done very well but 1000’s buy it anyway.

S**it! I can’t help myself. Background sound of hammer to head: THUNK.

Damn, that hurt! Ahh, who am I; where am I; what am…


Apr 13

Moved!

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I have moved Buy Stuff from Amazon! to msgee.com.

Go there and take a look.


Apr 07

We’re a lot like chickens

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I used to raise chickens and one thing you notice right away with chickens is that if any of them looks different from the rest of the flock, that chicken will be pecked to death.

Last night, while out and about, we saw someone who looked “different”; he had deformities. It made us both nervous though there is no logical reason it should. Why should we care? But we did.

I think that way back somewhere in the dark of our rotten souls we have a pecking gene that’s been repressed, but it’s still there trying to get out.

Not a very nice thought, is it?


Apr 07

High school Graduation day

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I graduated, well, I was supposed to graduate, on June 6th 1955. I say “supposed to” because I chose to ditch school that day which resulted in Mr. Ryan, my English and speech teacher, holding back my diploma until I completed the class speech.

So I went to graduation, did the walk through, and then with Monte and others, drove up to Doug Wedel’s parent’s cabin, which was somewhere in Squaw Valley, or Dunlap, or Pinehurst (who knows?) where we had a keg of beer, but no food (who needs food when you’re young), that we proceeded to drink. About all I remember clearly from that night is breaking into the cabin (Doug couldn’t come because he told his parents what we were about, which stopped him from coming, though he, and they didn’t know we would show up without him; which we did), Jim Reed losing his flashlight in a creek and walking in the water shouting “My beam; my beam,” and Les Jorgensen deciding we all had enough and dumping the keg.

Monte then drove us home and on the way Bob Pazin decided to puke out a closed window which didn’t work and smelled worse.

The next day I stumbled to school and, somewhat hungover, gave the “speech” to Mr. Ryan and got my all important diploma. That was the last time I saw Mr. Ryan and I am sorry about that. He was a fine teacher who, for some reason known only to him, put up with my shit. I wish at some point I had looked him up and thanked him, but I didn’t and I suspect that now is way too late.


There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face. - Ben Williams

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