2003-10-01

Hello, you little dream, you. Get THIS shit. The watering hole where my lady friend bartends had a situation on Monday. Neither of us was there, but I hear the Jesus-lookin' homeless guy was yelling asshole gay-bashing things in the door, and the bartender tried to get him to leave.

Eventually they went fist-to-cuffs, and the bartender gave him a bloody lip. This was supposedly because Jesus was drunk.

Jesus agreed to leave. Suddenly the customers realized that he did not depart but instead was scribbling on the windows with his blood. True story. Put THAT in your bible.

Is that not fucking crazy? I mean, I thought shit was weird when someone would stand up and their leg would fall off, or if you sat down only to realize there was an ownerless set of teeth on the bar. But this one takes the whiskey cake. That shit is mad.

Speaking of mad, I had a freak-out on Monday when I got home and discovered a) no feral kitty waiting by the back door and b) no garbage bags on the ground filled with the beautiful ivy someone had a mind to rip down.

I ran around calling her, shaking the friskies box and banging on things. To no avail. Sure that she had run in shear terror when the contractors removed their refuse, I booked it to the front and interrogated the neighbors. One had seen a black cat run down the street four hours before. Oh, woe!

So then I cried a lot and imagined her starving and freezing to death in some lonely corner of the world. Just when things were finally gettin' good for her.

My lady friend and I wandered the blocks calling her while I peered under cars in a dramatic haze of tears. Of course we didn't find her.

When I got home and decided to put her food out just in case, that little bitch jumped the neighbor�s fence and landed by my feet with a fuzzy, post-nap meow.

Goddammit. But I am quite relieved. All is right in the world. Except for the people writing on the walls with their blood, of course.