14 April 2012
518
R. Linda:
Well, well, well, I guess St. Patrick's Day came late for the cat population. There I was this morning, in me jammies and slippers walking into my loft to read the newspaper with me cuppa joe in hand. And even in my state of not being fully awake, I did notice my slippers were making strange noises like I was walking on Cheerios. I looked down and there was catnip spread from one end of the loft to the other. And what did I find? THIS:
"Well, one of us had a fun night," I said looking at the druggie sprawled out on the daybed. "Too much to handle or just a drug-induced hangover?"
He said notta thing. He just lay there like he didn't care about anything, nooo not a care in the world. I looked around me.
"You gonna clean this mess up I hope? Because I'm not." I said putting my coffee down and sitting at the desk, flipping open the newspaper. I looked over and he hadn't moved. "You alive over there, or barely here? I gotta tell ya you've been bad, and I know you know that. Wait until your mother sees this." I said meaning Tonya who I knew would have a fit.
She had just bought the catnip glutton 0.5 ounces of the good stuff (this in addition to a large jar of the not-so-good stuff he reluctantly rolls around in on occasion), she calls the good stuff his Colombian Gold. And well, the entire package was emptied and most of it was GONE!
"I wonder if you can get up," I said ribbing him, but he was still staring at nothing, not paying the least bit of attention to my sarcasm. "Oh, that's right, you CAN'T get up!" I laughed.
I got up to see just how much was left in the bag and suddenly the old junkie came to life as if I was about to grab his stash, or what was left of it.
Yup, here we are with the evidence. Look at us, you can just see he is almost sick of himself from the overindulgence of the night before, the silly thing. But that doesn't mean he's giving it up either.
Eee-yah. Pick the bag up and he would bite me fingers. So I left him there to inhale it while he could. I went down to breakfast and informed the wife of the miscreant's wild and crazy night. She wasn't pleased. When I went back up, he had found his usual stash in the plastic bottle and got that down too! I tell ya I thought he'd had enough and now he had got down his emergency stash. I guess it's the hair of the dog or in this case the hair of the cat?
Yup, caught right-pawed in the act of trying to roll around the jar to get the top off so he could further indulge his piggy self and probably overdose.
I think it's time for rehab I really do.
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
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| ZONKERED |
"Well, one of us had a fun night," I said looking at the druggie sprawled out on the daybed. "Too much to handle or just a drug-induced hangover?"
He said notta thing. He just lay there like he didn't care about anything, nooo not a care in the world. I looked around me.
"You gonna clean this mess up I hope? Because I'm not." I said putting my coffee down and sitting at the desk, flipping open the newspaper. I looked over and he hadn't moved. "You alive over there, or barely here? I gotta tell ya you've been bad, and I know you know that. Wait until your mother sees this." I said meaning Tonya who I knew would have a fit.
She had just bought the catnip glutton 0.5 ounces of the good stuff (this in addition to a large jar of the not-so-good stuff he reluctantly rolls around in on occasion), she calls the good stuff his Colombian Gold. And well, the entire package was emptied and most of it was GONE!
"I wonder if you can get up," I said ribbing him, but he was still staring at nothing, not paying the least bit of attention to my sarcasm. "Oh, that's right, you CAN'T get up!" I laughed.
I got up to see just how much was left in the bag and suddenly the old junkie came to life as if I was about to grab his stash, or what was left of it.
Eee-yah. Pick the bag up and he would bite me fingers. So I left him there to inhale it while he could. I went down to breakfast and informed the wife of the miscreant's wild and crazy night. She wasn't pleased. When I went back up, he had found his usual stash in the plastic bottle and got that down too! I tell ya I thought he'd had enough and now he had got down his emergency stash. I guess it's the hair of the dog or in this case the hair of the cat?
I think it's time for rehab I really do.
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| It is now 3:15 and THIS -- Do Not Disturb -- Cat On Drugs -- enter at your own risk! |
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| It is 3:30 and well another fix is in session. Along with a good showing of the whitey tighties |
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| This is just SAD |
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
