(or is it licking pussy?)
Those who know my sordid past know that I once had a kitten that, bless its little heart, took great joy in licking and sucking my ear lobes. Suffering from an enlarged erogenous zone, which extends, well, let’s just say my whole body, I in turn took great joy in having my ear lobes sucked on by said kitten. So much so that, as the cat matured and its tongue grew stronger bristles (or whatever they’re called), I would wake up with red and chafed ears, as it tended to remove my skin. Such was the price I gladly paid.
Fast-forward some 20 years, and the circle has come, um, full circle. Almost.
Squirrel the cat, has taken to grooming my hair. At first, I thought he was simply enjoying the salty goodness that is my dried sweat. Not so, because he tends to lick the same spot, over and over. So, I decided, well, he must have great taste, enjoying the deeply entrenched remnants of Rosemary Mint Aveda shampoo. What?! It’s great shampoo!
Unfortunately, no matter how much I try to position my head, he ignores the lobes, focussing completely on my hair. Curse him! Instead, starting at around 6 every morning, there he is on my pillow, just lick-lick-licking away on my scalp.
All this to say that, if ever you see me with strange bald spots but with a glazed look in my eyes, you’ll know why.
Edit: Um, I should mention that I do try to push the cat off. But, when I’m half-asleep and struggling for that extra 15 minutes with Morpheus, my defences are down.
When I woke up this morning, at 5 am (thanks pets!), I couldn’t help but notice massive pain coming from my left side. Well, more in the back, on the left. Around the shoulder. And, if you want to get slightly paranoid and technical, right around the spot that the aorta does that loop that it does, you know, with the arteries splitting out?
So, like I said, massive pain. A slight numbness running down my arm. I can’t turn my head all that smoothly. Darn, thinks I, my love and consumption of butter has finally caught up with me. Hell, it was worth it.
And then, thinking upon it a bit more, I realise the reason for the ache: I played fetch yesterday. Well, not me, per se, but, you know, with the dog. I threw a tennis ball. Perhaps 5 or 6 times. No more, because by then it was really cold and rainy. But a tennis ball?
And therefore, besides throwing a tennis ball, I also threw out my back.
A tennis ball.
If you know what I mean, and I think you do.
I mean that, about a month after it’s been delivered, we still don’t have our dishwasher hooked up.
Two guys have already dropped by, they tell me that I need a certain attachment for the machine, that they don’t have on them at the moment, and they take off, with promises to come back. Therefore, the milliner and I are still washing the dishes by hand, coming up with weird bets, so that the loser has to do the washing that time.
I’ve gotten the names (and called) two other plumbers, and no one has gotten back to us. This is really getting ridiculous.
So, if anyone knows of a plumber in Mtl, let me know.
Update: Success! Getting over my intense fear of all things electric and my overwhelming dislike of doing any housework, I took matters into my own hands on Saturday and ended up installing the dishwasher myself. Granted, this took over 5 hours of squatting in a corner, mopping up overflowing water, two trips to Home Depot where I grovelled to get some peon to serve me, hundreds of “helpful” “hints” and “suggestions” from the milliner, an inability to move much the next day (what with all the squatting in the corner) due to sore muscles, but it was all worth it. Our tiny kitchen actually looks tidier.
The milliner celebrated her birthday last week but, seeing as how it was during the work week, we decided to do something special on the weekend. Therefore, Saturday was the day I spent in the kitchen and the circus girl went off to do her own thing, in this case checking out that créacamp thing.
So, on the menu?
Pan-fried scallops and Peas and carrots. This seems to be becoming a tradition thingy, and I’m definitely on board with that.
Home-made green tea ice cream.
We’ve put it off for long enough, so tonight the milliner and I will be assuming the roles of quizmaster at the monthly quiz night at Hurley’s (1225 Crescent), 8 pm.
The only downside to this is that I can no longer trashtalk (lovingly) my fellow and fella competitors.
So, to whomever is interested, and knows all the facets of the Zulu mating rituals, be there or assume the shape of a trapezoid.