Cats can’t fax for crap

But they can eat the hell out of some tulips. Oh! Oh! They are up too high for you to reach? Why don’t you yell about it and look wistful?

It’s OK, cat, I can’t fax either, and I have thumbs. I put that shit in upside down yesterday. Ghost fax! Casper the friendly blank seven pages.

I shouldn’t be allowed around machinery at this stage of my endumbenment. I am losing a battle with the battery in this laptop.

The condo management continues to send illiterate emails. My favorite: “All owner’s whom wish to rent out their unit must get a 6D certificate.”

Now I’m working on my to-don’t list. There is dumb stuff on this list that I am supposed to do but will leave til the last minute. Do you have to buy cards for First Communions? I think so, but the bodega only has Quinceanera cards (now I know someone is going to be an asshole and leave a pithy comment about Quinceanera that is sure to include a proper n-yay. will it be you? yeah, you thought about it).

Mr. H has jury duty today, so I had to drive poor Dagwood to the butt-earliest train. Turns out the methadone clinic down the block is open much, much earlier than I thought! Did you get that I live in a bad neighborhood? There is a bell outside, and it’s ringing ringing ringing. I think “they” are testing an alarm. I get it. I’m alarmed.

5 responses to “Cats can’t fax for crap”

  1. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, I just learned last night that they have remade the questionable-from-the-get-go “Poseidon Adventure.”

  2. Hello, how are you? I am fine. Could you please publish your and your sister’s blogs using an RSS feed discoverable by Safari 2.0.3? If you do, I will teach a cat how to fax, and it will fax you a note saying, “Hello, I am a cat.” And the paper will jam. Thank you for your time.

    A friend.

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