Saturday, February 27, 2010

Christopher Buckley, P.J. O'Rourke, Dave Barry and (especially) Mark Steyn are the best social & political satirists today (If you don't count Paul Krugman's unintentionally hilarious stuff). I read Ann Coulter, too, and she's funny, but I get the sense that she's always spoiling for a fight. A little ramble: Yesterday I was up early, as usual, and I'm glad I turned on the light before I sat down for my "morning meditation and reflection time," because there was a mouse in the toilet. Just the thought is kind of "eeeuw!" When I told her about it she said that she was glad I saw it before her because she would have freaked. I told her she doesn't have to aim, so she doesn't turn on the light anyway. And then I was thinking, a toilet inside and out is slippery. I can understand how a mouse IN a toilet can't get OUT, but how does one get IN? Look at your own toilet; there's nothing for a mouse to climb up. For a couple of days now, our cat has been hanging out by the back door, sitting, staring and probably stalking this very mouse. It makes sense that a mouse might sneak through a hole in the back somehow. It's an old house; there must be all manners of ingress and egress. (ADD aside: That sounds smarter than "entrance" and "exit," doesn't it? For fun I like to say it in German: "eingang" and "ausfahrt." Yes, I've driven the autobahn.) And we keep our toaster in the pantry by the back door -- lots of delectable crumbs. Skeeter (the cat) hasn't been hanging out there lately. The mouse, I would surmise ("guess" for normal people), is gone. My question is: Did Skeeter catch the mouse, kill it, and put it in the toilet? Where did she learn proper mouse carcass disposal techniques? Or is there a more reasonable, believable explanation? Which reminds me... I once told a girl I was dating "my cat caught a mouse." She was taken aback in the way that only women can be, hand over the mouth and all that. "You have MICE?!" she said. I said "No, I have a cat." I don't think she understood because she never came back to my apartment, or, maybe she just wasn't that into me. My neighbors and I had a "borrow-a-cat" program. Whenever they saw a mouse, I'd bring my cat over. It a few hours or so, he'd be back at my apartment door. Mission accomplished.

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