It sometimes amazes me when I purchase something and experience a complete lack of forethought in the design of said product. Today I will speak about the loofa bath fish net scrubby thing that is not so appropriately named, "daily Luxuries".

Now, I am sure there isn't a whole lot of thinking processes that goes into the manufacturing of a loofascrubbybathgelfishnet thing, but maybe they should use someone other than a sadistic window licking shithead.

My main gripe with the thing is the little thingamabob that you hang it up with. It is not a string/rope type thing as I have previously experienced. They decided upon a small strap like tag thing that you normally see on the back of a t-shirt. It is also the exact same color as the rest of the loofascrubbybathgelfishnet thing. Each morning I have to dig around in the soap covered thing trying to find that damn loop so I can hang the shit back up.

As we may have all experienced, after a couple of weeks with a LSBGFN thing, it starts to expand like the cosmos. It goes from a nice ball of fish net and turns into the crab nebula. This makes it even more difficult to find that god damn hangy strap thing. Once you combine my hypoglycemic lack of breakfast, my old man arthritic finger bones, shaving gell in my eye holes (don't ask), and finger tips that were recently shredded by the bathgel/shavingcreme/shampoo/facecleaner bottle opening razorblades of death, I am a bit out of sorts with the search and rescue procedure required to find the damn thing.

Six more days of vacation, BBQ on Sunday! Lots of cleaning to do, but at least Carlos got my yard cleaned up. Too bad they are going to be digging a trench in my front yard in the next 24 hours or so for a new sewer line. My entire street is a clusterfuckerball right now.

Asshole cat is sleeping in the dog's bed just to piss him off.

Last <redacted> I flew to <redacted>. I went out to help <redacted> do some "simple" things around the house, help with loading and packing of his stuff into the U-Haul, and do some of the driving out to Utah.

Day 1 started out OK. Some destruction of the garage wall, removing nails, screws, wood. As the day progressed, my skinny and weak body started to protest. This wasn't a small rebellion or coup, this was a freaking uprising. Hands started to give out, knees felt like they were trapped in a vice, elbows felt like a hammer was being used to move parts around. One injury occurred when my elbow sped into my knee at warp speed while removing a screw from a wall. Double injuries are a rare occurrence, especially when no tools cause the injury.

Day 2 was a nightmare. My body had not fully recovered. I eventually turned into a painting zombie and wandered back and forth between the wall and the paint. I fell into some strange mindset where I just blocked everything except for the path between my designated work areas. Thankfully there were spare percasets in the cupboard.

Day 3 was ohmygodkillmepleasewithaknifeinmyeyehole dump day. Back and forth loading and unloading crap, garbage, shit laying around. I have given up on ever feeling normal again. My body is wracked with pain and agony. I begin to hallucinate. I am unable to form complete sentences. I long for death's sweet embrace.

Day 4 was more dump day. After dump visit, it was carrying boxes downstairs. <redacted> needs to learn a thing or 50 about how to pack boxes. Writing "books" on a box is nice, but don't put every fucking book in the world into that damn box. Spread the shit out a bit. It should be "some books and light fluffy things" so I can actually carry it without my knees coming in contact with my ankles. I think my arms grew a few inches that day.

Day 5 was the "rearrange my horrid U-Haul organizational skills" day. After that it was the start of the drive. This will be covered in Part II.

So, from this point forward....

Dust - Something I do when cleaning. Not something I get covered in. Not something that forms mutant boogers in my cranial cavity.

Painting - Something I see in a frame hanging on a wall. Not something I do to a wall.

Standing - Something I do on occasion to stretch my legs. Not something I do for 14 hours a day.

Walking - Something I do to get from on point to another so that I can sit again. Not something I do back and forth for 14 hours a day.

Dump - Something I take in the privacy of my own home. Not something I drive to so I can unload a bunch of garbage.

<redacted> - Somewhere I shall never see again.

I was able to get some tasty tequila from the store. I think I used words that were too big for the girls at the counter with the blackened toofs based on the blank stare she gave me when I asked where the store was that had some in stock. I really didn't understand much of what she said either. In fact, I don't understand pretty much anything that anyone in <redacted> says. so, I just ended up looking it up on my phone and starting the GPS.

Now, <redacted>...a little advice. At the grocery store where you get your case of Mt. Dew for the crotch fruit, there is an aisle that has things for cleaning those previously white things in your face hole. You put this stuff on a tiny little brush, shove it in that face hole, and then vigorously move it back and forth. You can do this up to three times a day.

Poopsqueek goes to the Vet

So... Asshole cat, who is actually Poopsqueek, got into a fight a week or so ago. He got injured on his hindquarter. He didn't like anyone to touch it at first, so I just kept an eye on it. It eventually stopped hurting, scabbed up, seemed like all was going to be just peachy keen.

This morning he comes to visit me whilst making my morning delivery. I reach down and feel his wound. Of course it is now a lump on his backside. I call the vet and make the appointment. I leave work early to go to the vet. I get the cage. I place Poopsqueek in the cage and the fun begins.

MWOOOOOEEEWWWWW! HHIIISSSS! MEOOORRROWEOOWOROOOQOOROQQWWQWWWW!
Meow.
MEEERRRROOOOWWWOOOOOWWWWWW

Now, I have a relatively small car. The cage thing doesn't fit very well in the front seat. About 2/3 on the seat and 1/3 off. He decides to sit in the 1/3 part of the cage. Everytime I brake, the thing leans forward and thunks into the dashboard. The meowing gets louder. Each time I accelerate it flops onto the seat. The meowing gets louder. Thunk, flop, thunk, flop, thunk, flop. All the while he is screeching and growling and meowing and driving me batshit crazy.

15 minutes later, I arrive at the vet. The noise continues for a few minutes and we get in the room. Seems that Poopsqueek has gained a few ounces and now tops out at 18 pounds. They shave his butt. The scab comes off with the hair. We find two puncture wounds. It seems that my cat is a wimpasaurus and was probably running away and got bit on his ass. My 18 pound cat...ran away.

Of course, this is the cat that is incapable of jumping over a 4 foot fence. I have seen him chase cats across the yard. The other cat leaps over the fence with the toes barely touching the top. My cat grinds to a halt with a "foiled again!" look on his face. The other cat will stop on the other side and look back with a "you gotta be shitting me" look on his face. Not that I mind. He isn't getting into trouble and keeps all the cats out of the yard except for the scraggly white cat he seems to be friends with now. Maybe she offers him a tasty milkshake.

The vet says that we can give him antibiotics. Two options are me giving them to him orally, or they can give him a shot. They say that the stuff I would give him is liquid. I take the shot option. They laugh when they say it is charged by the pound. Damn fat cat.

Anywho, $102 later and a bald backside and we exit the vet.

15 more minutes of...
Thunk, flop, thunk, flop, thunk, flop...
MWOOOOOEEEWWWWW! HHIIISSSS! MEOOORRROWEOOWOROOOQOOROQQWWQWWWW!
Meow.
MEEERRRROOOOWWWOOOOOWWWWWW

Yes, my cat can pronounce words with the letter Q in them. He is talented.

A New Cereal

As all of you may remember, I recently had an interesting experience with a cereal that shall be forever known as Kashi GoShit. We did send that giganormous box of cereal to the land of the dumpster so seagulls may snack on it and hopefully explode as they divebomb someone's picnic.

Anywho, we made our way to Costco to try out a different cereal. 

It didn't go as planned.

This time we saw "Abundance Blueberry-Pomegranate Oat Cluster Crunch". Goodness gracious, that sounds tasty! All natural! No HFCS! Grains and shit! Fruits! Holy shit in a handbasket, I am buying this box!

I had a giant bowl yesterday due to yet another "fuckiforgottoeat" hypoglycemic pre-attack. This type of attack is where you kind of feel fuzzy in the head, your tummy gets kinda wiggly, and your skin starts to form tiny beads of sweat. Not a full out attack where you would literally eat the cardboard from a homeless person's bed, but close. So, I had this bowl of cereal in the late morning and continued on with my day thinking that I had consumed something healthy and tasty. My gums were not bleeding and I didn't feel like a dead cow on the side of the road in Close Encounters. All was great!

Or so I thought.

The rumblings started later that evening. Another horrid visit to the room of doom and I thought I was going to be OK.

Now, the Kashi GoShit was a horrid butt-trumpet of hell leading up to the dysentery. This stuff was the opposite. No warning about the rocket fueled explosion, just happened. This morning I wake up and I get the other half. It was like a baking soda and vinegar enema. After each one I am thinking "how the hell big is my intestinal capacity for this symphony of gas?!" After a while my thoughts were "what the hell?", "good god", "wow", "are you fucking kidding me?", "please let that be the last", and "I sure hope there wasn't any luggage in that one".

I have come to the realization that I should stick to what I know. Grease, McDonalds, microwaved, processed, or anything else as long it does not brag about how natural it is. If I want natural, I will buy some damn organic vegetables.

Asshole cat is having issues. He got in a fight a few days ago and hurt his butt area or something since he doesn't like it when you hold him. He seems to have found a new friend. Some scraggly white cat likes to sit outside with him. Asshole cat seems to be getting better. He let Gloria clean his noggin. Gloria would clean a piece of poop if you pet her with it.