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BAHAAH, mah kitties are so cute!
The girthy women upstairs are jumping up and down again. They are generally quiet, but something about this time of night makes them frisky. Maybe they are hunting something, like night panthers.
I bought a hand vac today, and then promptly had a fight with Curt over it. The instruction manual said it had to be plugged in for at LEAST 20 hours before use, and didn’t that balmy redhead I live with up and try to unplug it after three hours! LUNACY! MADNESS! SHENANIGANS!
Shortly afterwards, I realized that sometimes I am insane around – you know – that time of – you know! We are friends again.
I also had soda (rare craving), cleaned the apartment, messed it back up, and then iTunes-ed some Guitar Hero II songs, “Veteran of the Psychic Wars” by Blue Oyster Cult, Lily Allen’s album, and ALMOST bought the title song of St. Elmo’s Fire.
It’s 1:19. I have no desire to go to bed.
1:34 now. Hrm.
1:37. The women upstairs are still making noise. Don’t they know I need it quiet to blog!
1:39. I am useful: I’ve just looked up the lyrics to “Sex Farm” by Spinal Tap.
1:46. I don’t want to alarm anyone, but I think I smell cat poo.
1:48. Large rumbling from upstairs. Maybe they are planning a repeat of the time the daughter woke everyone up at 3:28 in the morning screaming at her boyfriend to get the hell out of the apartment and the police had to come to keep her from beating his face in.
1:51. How do I know if it’s love? I can’t tell you, but it lasts forever! Na na na na…!
1:59. Did I ever tell you guys Curt owns Phil Collins’ Greatest Hits? BAHAHA.
2:28. Oh, the allure of minutiae! Alas, to bed.