Wednesday, Jack-O'Tober 11, 41 A.B.

Trapped in an apparently landlordless universe, forever wed to leaking faucets mere speech has no power to assuage the steady drippings of, I have taken to dressing like the tramp, Estragon, in Waiting for Godot.  To pass the time, I ring a bell in outstretched hands as I pace about the house yelling "Unclean!  Unclean!" in the manner of medieval lepers and those presidential candidates with a shred of decency left in them.

I spend my evenings becoming reacquainted with Southern Comfort and the works of Poe.

My dreams are increasingly populated by the grimacing children of ancient Abyssinia.  They nightly mob the weary oxcart of my mind and refuse to allow it passage to merciful REM sleep until I have plied all their palms with Delta washerless sink fixtures....

I am beginning to suspect that I am slowly falling into madness despite the wall-to-wall bathmats I've installed as a precaution in every room of the house.

On the bright side:  I have pretty much decided to dress up this Halloween as a werecat just so I might get away with rubbing my face against the legs of every woman I see.

If I can manage to keep my tail in place, I even have hopes of kneading their laps, then curling up and falling asleep on them.

I hope my landlord comes soon.  Not only am I not in the mood to slip into madness just now, I really need to get to the store and buy myself a jar of Kitty-brand cuteness before they're all sold out like last year....


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(©Now by D. Birtcher after putting his warning bell on auto-pilot)


Memo to George W. Bush

Dear George:  I understand you have another little debate coming up tonight. I bet you're already feeling that old compulsion to say "Fuzzy math" like some uptight victim of Tourette's Syndrome, aren't you?  Be strong.  Resist the impulse.  Remember your medication.  And try memorizing these perfectly swell synonyms for "fuzzy":  Vague, indefinite,  indeterminate, indeterminable, undefined, ill-defined, unclear, obscure, confused, hazy, blurry, loose, lax, inexact, imprecise, amorphous, foggy, incoherent, blobby.

If you really want to light up America, I'd go with blobby math.

If you want to try to sew up the teachers-of-Latin vote, go with caliginosus numeri.

If you want to make love to the ears of your viewers like the sophisticated Frenchman we all know you really are behind that insufferable smirk, shoot for mathématiques confusionaire.

(Ahhh, be still my heart!)