"I wonder what the cat does"

By Lisa on June 29, 2004 7:27 PM | silly funny stuff | Permalink | Comments (2)

[from sailorjim on LJ... originally found by wispfox]

So I'm sitting here in the university library, surfing the web (trying to discover just what the hell did Melissa Joan Hart do after shutting down "Sabrina, the Teenage Witch," if you must know .. hey, sometimes freelance curiosity creates some very odd segues, okay?) and killing time until Dian was free for lunch, when the skies opened up once more.

(For those who are not Texans, God is currently attempting to drown Southeast Texas. Given the mindset of many of the natives, I really can't blame Him ... but I really wish he'd stop it with that crappy "it rains equally on the just and unjust" silliness.)

Anyhow, water coming down less like rain and more like someone flushing a celestial toilet, and then the thunder and lightening starts up. Hugh flash bulb goes off, immediately followed by sound masquerading as a slap across the face ... and the guy next to me drops his head and groans.

So I look over. The guy is just sitting here, head drooping and looking more miserable with every crash of thunder. Me being The Soul Remaining Decent Human on Earthtm, I lean over and say, "Yeah, more rain ... I really picked a bad time to rag on my neighbor for building a raft, huh?"

He turned haunted eyes on me and, after a moment of decision, finally said, "My dog shits every time he hears thunder."

(A quiet pause, broken only by the sound of yet another cosmic doggy laxatives and me blinking.)

I said "Excuse me?" and he repeated himself, adding, " ... and I live in an apartment ... a studio apartment."

Okay, by this time I'm doing my level best to not laugh at the poor guy, but every thunderclap is - now - downright hilarious. KA-BOOM and he flinches deeper into despair. But I manage to keep a straight face (required ability when one is TSRDHEtm) and try to mutter something, anything, supportive and understanding.

Until he shakes his head and sighs, "And, today, my parents are visiting."

(Okay, even a duly elected TSRDHEtm has limits.)

[Also from sailorjim]
I'm getting dressed this morning and my tomcat is humping my wife's left shoe.

Dian's in the kitchen getting her routine bowl of oatmeal (high blood pressure) and I'm sitting there, goggling, as my three year old, neutered-as-a-kitten, Egyptian Mao Phil has his head firmly wedged into the shoe and is steadily humping the toe.

After a moment, I stand, walk over and say, "Phil ... what the hell are you doing?"

And he pulls his little head out of the shoe and blandly stares back at me ... while continuing to hump the shoe. My imagination provides the reply, "Oh, just f*cking Dian's shoe, Pop ... why?"

So I apologize for interrupting and sit back down to finish getting dressed.

Dian walks into the room, asking me something or the other, and stops dead. After a moment, she says, "Jimmy?"

"Yeah?"

"What the hell is Phil doing?"

"Oh, just f*cking your shoe, hon ... why?"

(Hearing his name, Phil pulls his head back out of the shoe and calmly follows the exchange, all the while steadily humping away. When he hears my reply, he sticks his head back into the shoe.)

Dian wore her boots today.

I don't insist that my life make sense, but there are times that I can just about, if I really concentrate, just about hear God laughing.