Sun., April 15, 42 A.B.

My First Sunday Entry After The First Full Moon Of Spring (MFSEATFFMOS)
 

Organized a new search party at dawn today, then sent it off to resume
the hunt for my missing vitamin E pill while I tried to settle my nerves by watching TV.  Flipped channels for awhile but gave it up after one got
stuck on the ceiling.

Not knowing what else to do, I sat and watched a program about the making of a movie that had gone straight to video.  The reception was awful, however, which was a blessing during the program itself but made
it increasingly difficult to tell when the commercials came on and I could safely sneak off and cop a cookie without missing anything.  Even though
I have cable, I eventually resorted to an old reception-enhancing trick I learned years ago.  You just get a pair of old-style rabbit ears and put
them on top of your set.  No need to bother connecting them to your TV - you just sit back and let the placebo effect kick in.  Did it work for me today?  I don't know.  My mind kept drifting back to an old memory which
blocked awareness of everything else:

"If I had known how great grandchildren are, I would have had them first!"
- Comment overheard at the end of the Cannibal Associations' annual dinner. 

Which for some reason reminds me to tell you this:

"Dzo" is the proper term to use for those creatures which result from illicit yak-cow interbreeding.  If you send a letter to a dzo but improperly
address it to a yak or a cow, don't be surprised if the post office returns
it to you with a snotty little comment.

Which, now that I think about it, I felt compelled to tell you only to postpone giving you the bad news for as long as possible...

I hate to say it, but... the search party came back from my kitchen this evening without finding any trace of my vitamin E pill.  This means, of course, that this journal just might become an endless series of laments for one of the most beautiful nutritional supplements I've ever seen.

Then again, it might become nothing more than a bitter harangue against those in the search party - namely, my cat, Jester, and my imaginary friends, Hans and Sylvia.  Already I am filled with the suspicion that Sylvia unwittingly crushed my pill with one of the wheels of her wheelchair.
Adding to my despair: The fact that she still had chains on those wheels despite my repeatedly reminding her in recent days that snow season
was over.  Had she only listened to me, my pill might still be whole today....

Ahh, who am I fooling?  If her wheel hadn't crushed my pill, Hans' white-tipped blindman's cane would have.  Not that he's blind, mind you -
he just feels like pretending to be blind on all the major holidays so that Sylvia might feel a tad less self-conscious about her real disability - and who am I to object to such selfless behavior?

But the hell with all that now, and my pill with it.  Life is too short to spend it worrying about such things when one can so much better spend one's
time feeling sorry for oneself with regard to far more important matters.

Like, for example, the fact that even on Easter, I simply have no luck with the chicks:
 

Official police sketch
of the creature I watched break my heart
from afar this afternoon
 

You know, sometimes it just doesn't pay to fall in love downwind of a nuclear power plant....
 

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              (©Now by DJ Birtcher despite being offered a large sum of
money by Barking Bunny Enterprises, Inc., to just sit here quietly with my hands folded lest I somehow mess up their biggest sales day of the year)