Let it be known that winter sucks.

The more I get rid of stuff from my house, the more stuff I seem to have. I’m starting to think it’s like using astringent on oily skin–you’re just tempting those cells to produce more out of spite.

I found a cd entitled “Celtic Bagpipes.” It’s good they were clear about that, because I don’t want any damned unCeltic bagpipes. Those things suck.

My ears are cold.

Cat Cuthbert likes to stand in the sink and watch water swirling down the drain. I would like to believe that he is thinking Great Thoughts, but I have a feeling he’s just wondering how hard it would be to Screw That Up and Make Life Difficult. I wouldn’t be surprised to come down one morning and discover he’s shoved an entire cat bed, and possibly Bertram, into the drain.

Someone told me to my face the other day that if he had one of my cats in his possession he would kill it. What’s most remarkable about this is that the person didn’t think I would be shocked by this comment.

The election is Tuesday and I’m a presiding judge. I am not looking forward to this. On the plus side, it’s forcing me to clean my car, possibly leading to such great discoveries as “Martial Marches” and “German Beethoven.” Stay tuned.