Blog number 211 29 August 2008
Mine wife, the beautiful Teresa, asked if I wanted a glass of wine. I said, "Sure. Why not?"
The wine tasted so good that I drank it instead of sipped it, then I had another and now I am legally drunk. I got to wondering if I could write while drunk, and this reminded me of a cartoon I pasted in my cartoon book. It's entitled, "Pearls Before Swine" and the goat is drunk and writing because he thinks he writes better while drunk and what he writes is, "beer good." That's not very good writing, so he figures he better drink another six pack.
My black cat, Zipper, loves me. He cuddles my slippers, follows me around, and when I pick him up, he just collapses. It's like I'm his Momma. He stays in the garage mostly, doesn't want to come out.
This morning I let him out and he seemed glad to go, stayed there until I went to collect him. I grabbed him from under the car where he wouldn't come out. I had to kneel down to do this, and since I am old, I had a hard time getting up while holding him, and he started growling and biting me. He never does this. I finally got up, and while I was carrying him to the house, he kept complaining and biting. It reminded me of a two year old slapping at a parent who was taking them inside when he awaited to stay outside and play.
Damn! Writing while drunk is not all that easy. I keep hitting the wrong keys.
4 comments:
Whoops, don't forget to take a couple Tylenol before going to bed. LOL Linda in Washington state
Hi Linda. And save some for a hair o' the dog in the morning too, huh?
I hit the wrong keys when I'm sober. Sorry about your uppity cat, must have been having a bad day. Maybe the cat should have a glass of wine. (just kidding) DB
HI DB;
I forgot that Zipper will also walk up and bite me if I ignore his meowing to get out or to get fed. He IS kinda uppity.
We had another cat, a real queen, that we were kinda afraid of. We were trying to give her a bath once and she went ballistic. One of her claws came within millimeters of my left eyeball and scared me so much that I let go of her and she ran off all soapy. "Good riddance," I thought.
Thinking about it later, I realized that she did that on purpose - missed me, I mean. At first I thought she just missed, but then I realized the control they have over their claws.
We once had a donkey that ran free once in a while. I was standing by the side of the road and he walked by and when he got to me, he kicked out with his right hind leg and just grazed my chest. It took me a whiole to realize I hadn't been just lucky, he knew exactly where that leg was going. Just playing with me.
And how's YOUR life going, DB?
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