Schatenfreude

That's right, deriving joy from the misery of your cat. I got some new slippers today and the shoebox had a triangular hole in the lid to view the slippers; just big enough for a cats head. Sure enough, our nosy troublemaker, Caliph, stuck his head in there, and got it stuck. How can you NOT laugh when the cat is running around with a box on his head as he tries to shake it off? And the capper? not once, but TWICE.

I'm getting ready to send out another batch of resumes. Dollywood is one of the lucky recipients in this batch. Wife is liking this one. Not from any love of Dolly in particular, or country music in general, but for the fact that it's just north of Nashville, ergo, warmer climate. And closer to her father. Far enough to not see him every week, but close enough that we can be there in an hour or so if we need to.

TMA alert. Leave now if you can't handle too much information about my private and/or personal life.

So this morning I was looking at the DVD's on my headboard, and see that pirate film that I haven't seen in a while. Pirates. No, not the Polanski one, the OTHER one. That's right, the porno. So I pop it in. I don't know why I do this to myself. I seem to like bludgeoning myself over the head with hard reality. Here I am enjoying the hot girl/girl action, and I realize that I can't see myself ever doing that again in the near or forseeable future. Harumph. I put in Yellowbeard instead. Perfectly pointless piece of fluff (as opposed to a fluffer piece? nope, nope, sorry), but moderately funny and enjoyable.

Tomorrow is laundry day. Probably while the Bears are playing, hoping that the laundomat is less crowded. It's been way too long. Amazing how long you can let things slide when you don't have to dress up for other people (or, some days, at all).