How I Lost My Cat.

This meme is going bacterial!

People who will follow in footsteps. 

A dream, and not one about a crashing 

cascade, but one about a fairly innocent 

topic, namely candles. They were no 

longer being hidden. The candles, I mean, 

but also the people. What kind of people 

would have been hidden? Maybe the kind 

that some other people don't want to see. 

Even with their eyes shut, they still see these 

(sort of) forbidden people, in their dreams, say. 

SAY IT!

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This is how I always pictured it, until ......

But, look, it won't get any weaker if you fail to take steps. I mean physically. That's right: Physically. Take. Steps. One should start to get used to following instructions. Why is this so difficult? It could very well accrue to your lasting benefit, even when you skew like a baby. A baby squirrel, that is. Admit it. What? That you're lost. And have received a  significant amount of stolen money from a dubious source. A person in a trance is known to drive a 'hard bargain'. But not when the chips are down. Therefore I love you. But not the person you sometimes pretend (without much success) to attempt to resemble.

Why not take a ride?

I've preferred that my TV show (have you seen it?) was viewed by older people, but three weeks ago I lost my cat at a Farmers' Market here in town. The reason I took her (her name is Swerpy) there is because I thought it would be good exposure for a person named Dennis Wallman who has an obsession with cats who are allergic to him. He thinks (for some reason) that it makes him look taller to women of the opposite sex. He's wrong but we don't care. Why? Because we're celibate. And our skirts will tend to flatter the faces of individuals with Down's Syndrome. If you think this is some kind of joke then that makes you an officially 'evil' person. Sick, even. But let's leave this now and move on, shall we?

Meeting with a client.

Good, because I was also feeling a rising frustration level. A level three about, I'd say. I'd say it, that is, if I wanted to garner sympathy. But I'm done with that scene. Been there, done that. It's a load off my puny shoulders and I can't stand the way just one negligible throw-away line can ruin an entirely ordinary occasion. For this we give our lives. For that you pilfer a weaker deed. But forever is not your kind of time zone. So get used to it, or my name isn't Philip X. McCarthy (and it isn't, so there!). 

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