When the Going Gets Tough, The Tough Hang Out With Stinky

I'm glad I don't do a rough draft of this blog on paper. I've rewritten the first line of tonight's entry so often that the eraser would have worked right through the paper by now. And that pretty well sums up how this week has been going; can't get past the starting line, feeling mighty scattered. Hmm, sounds like a country and western tune....

Everything I've considered working on has felt too heavy, too unwieldy, too serious... (See my previous post No Witty Title Here to see the full extent of the possible weightiness I might unleash).

I'm sick of serious.



There's nothing like hanging out with the criminal mastermind to make things seem better, which is what I've been doing for the past few nights. Tonight it's finally taken hold. I've even been giggling.



Unfortunately the little dude had himself a case of Gaseous Furry Buttus. Learn from me kids! Don't feed your cat Macaroni and Cheese with a Tuna Chaser. Or if you do, don't stay in a small enclosed space with him afterwards....