Aprilcot 2, 41 A.B.

A week now since my wife returned from NYC.

Meaning almost a week since she's been sniffing and coughing
all over me, the house, Jester, the yard, and everything else
hereabouts that lacks fast reflexes.

A few days ago, I thought I was on the verge of getting whatever
she has.  But no.  Apparently the virus she brought home with her
got into my body, took one look around, then jumped right back
out. How discouraging is that - to be rejected by an ugly micro-


Today I overheard her telling someone about her recent visit to
Madison Square Gardens.

Guess what?  It's not on Madison Avenue.  It's not square.  And
there isn't a garden anywhere near the place.

Something to remember next time you hear somebody declare
that test scores in this country have declined since the latest
version of this place was built in 1968.

And don't even get me started about the so-called Holy Roman
Empire State Building!


There will now be a brief intermission for nidification.  Mmmm -
I've been wanting to nidify alllllllll day.  I'm just not happy unless
I've nidified at least once by 9 pm every single day, you know.
And yes - I always do my nidifying in private.  What kind of
nidifier do you think I am??

Heehee.  I learned a new word recently - can ya tell?

"Nidify:  To build a nest."

Try it.  You'll like it!

(The preceding message brought to you by The Society for the Promotion
of Blatant Nidifactory Practices, Inc.  Be right back - gotta go pick up sticks
with our lips.)


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What's that, you say?  I can't end an entry right after an inter-
mission?  Ha!  As if you didn't take the opportunity to slip away
to a better page when you had your chance.

Nonetheless, I admit that there's a certain aesthetic imbalance
in ending an entry right after an intermission.  An imbalance that
will keep me from sleeping tonight if I don't at least try to correct

So: I recently read that people with nothing better to do with
their time recently estimated that up to 7000 tigers are being
kept in this country by drug dealers who think tigers can do a
better job protecting their drugs than pitbulls can.

My own estimation is that there are at least 7000 drug dealers
in this country who are using their own product to excess.

Hey, what can I say?  If you really thought that my attempt to
provide aesthetic balance was going to be pretty, ask your
doctor for a complete check-up.  You just might be on drugs,

(Note to self: It's really hard to meow like a tiger when you have
sticks between your lips.  Might want to call the doctor and
schedule an appointment for yourself first thing in the morning.
If nothing else, it'll be a nice change of pace from your stupid
"rooster waiting for a Greyhound bus" impersonation.)