Complaints (or move along)

 

It's dropped into the forties overnight, and I have yet to turn on the furnace. For the first time in my entire cat-enslaved life, I have two (almost) cuddlers. 

You see them all over the internet, feline yin and yangs. I thought it was a myth. 

What we have here is a deep sleeper and a furred bulldozer. The sound of twin engines running is an opiate. And good thing, cause I'm bitching.

No, those are not my bones. That's my co-pirate's first fracture. I'll get to sign his cast tomorrow. 

My complaint? I decided to get all the jabs the other day. 

The technician said, "Right, left, or both?" 

"My left shoulder has been bothering me (keep lolling on the bed like Jabba the Hutt, propped up on that left elbow...) so let's give it something to really bitch about..." 

Since then, I've been buried under the feather comforter and cats, considering the error of my smartass ways.

It's fun to watch action movies with a cat who seems to be following what's happening. Barking dogs get her going. T

That's Leonardo DiCaprio in "Once Upon a Time in Hollywood" doing what I'd like to do to the Shitweasel and his entire squad of asskissers.