eye c u twitchn n tha woody/spikey/tall thing outside.

u chase each otha cuz u wants me to b chazn you.

u taunt me.

now tuxedo is here, not as good a cat as me, n he gets the fun.

eye will register an official protest with Godjhon.

jhon sez tuxedo, the pine, the squirrels and ME(?) are all one thing.

2 him, maybe. 

not to the Imperium ex Sinatra, scourge of small fluttery things and killer of furry things. 

I know jhon just doesn’t want to open the door.

I will register another official complaint about the imperfection of the universe jhon created.

His Imperial Highness, Sinatra I. 

Sitting next to MCARP at Sauced!, our mouths agape as several (rather lovely young) women at our table passed around a turkey leg, each in turn tearing off huge and vicious bites, whilst one of them repeated “stabbed 14 times!” many more times than 14.

Giving an enthusiastic hug/greeting to a woman I’d once dated briefly, only to be introduced to her husband of 3 weeks and hastening to leave as he began pissing on all the corners of the yard.

Walking through the crowd like a politician on the 4th of July, slapping backs and kissing babies.  This is the world’s largest small town, right Oz?

Enduring Matt Walsh’s interminable futzing with the sound system and complaints about his mic…  but, when the boy kicked it…  Hep cats, that white boy wailed out some blues that made old men jump up and boogie…  Tall Ed chatted up a young’un with bright headlights and a swing that should come with a porch… Pinky … little kids dancing … Mattie at Sauced! with his face painted to match his multi-colored hair…Della, my Della, a rose for your 21 years and pierced lip…Cindy, did your Mom just feel me up?…

A tall thin blonde introduced me to Dane and Issac at Isis, but all I wanted to do was kiss her.  What’s a boy to do?  I went and spoke to Tina and received a johnlong, went to the bathroom and went on my way.  Now I regret not hauling off and doing the deed, but the moment’s passed.  I hate that.  I hate it when you realize you just flat chickened out and that’s all there is to it and no damn do-overs.  It wouldn’t change anything.  I  just wish I’d given in to impulse.  Just this once.  Now, I’ll be all awkward about it and I’ll have to just get over myself.  Meanwhile, she very darn likely never gave it a second thought and when I’m all awkward about it and trying to get over myself, she’ll be thinking, quite rightly, “I wonder why he’s acting so … wierd?”.  Sorry.  I know I’m so completely and terminally unique that I’m the only person in the world who has ever experienced anything like this, the constant internal dialogue in which I tell myself in my best control-issue, micromanaging way what a complete fuckup I am and how I don’t deserve anything but the complete and total isolation all of humanity wishes I would achieve as quickly as possible, and certainly not anything like human affection and, gulp, approval. 

guess that’s why I blog, huh?  it’s kind of like talking to yourself where others can listen in.

I thoughts ewe was the fluttery flying thing who taunts me.  Now I thinks ewe b just another horny woman after jhon.

Sinatra Johnscat

eye also think jhon should write more except not so much bout politics.  Maybe more bout how wonderful cats be.

Sinatra Johnscat

 P.S.

Are you the one who sits on the fence in backyard?  I would like to meet you soon.  I am the cat in the window.

Sinatra

I’m not dating anyone.  I’m not sleeping with anyone.  I’m not looking for someone to date or sleep with.  Live vicariously through someone else because I’ve entered the “I really just don’t care” category.  No grand scheme or statement, I’ve just got other things on my mind.

I go to work, i come home and either work on the kitchen or yard and when I get a little space, I’m writing or spending time with my sister and her family.

No cases on my desk at work are particularly noteworthy nor have I done anything particularly fun or repellant lately.

I guess I could tell you for the zillionth time that I hate Bush, but why?  You know it or don’t care.

I have not seen a movie, read a book or listened to any music that is either so good or so bad that it prompts me to comment.

I’m blah about blogging.  Thinking about taking the summer off just to rejuice the batteries.  My daughter and grandkids are coming to town, followed by my son, followed by another sister. That takes me through mid summer.  I hope to get out of town during the heat of the summer after all the family is through visiting. 

My prayers and thoughts are with The Gary.

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Tired and still awake at 2 a.m., listening to Charlie Parker.  I probably only had about fitty cupsa coffee today and a couple of six glasses of tea.  Think that has anything to do with it?  Don’t much care why right now because I’m too busy experiencing the discomfort for post mortems to appeal to me.  This blows.

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A look back at this week in history:

By Elisabeth Bumiller

WASHINGTON, May 1 — President Bush’s made-for-television address tonight on the carrier Abraham Lincoln was a powerful, Reaganesque finale to a six-week war. But beneath the golden images of a president steaming home with his troops toward the California coast lay the cold political and military realities that drove Mr. Bush’s advisers to create the moment.

The president declared an end to major combat operations, White House, Pentagon and State Department officials said, for three crucial reasons: to signify the shift of American soldiers from the role of conquerors to police, to open the way for aid from countries that refused to help militarily and — above all — to signal to voters that Mr. Bush is shifting his focus from Baghdad to concerns at home….

”This is the formalization that tells everybody we’re not engaged in combat anymore, we’re prepared for getting out,” a senior administration official said….

…

By Michael R. Gordon and Eric Schmitt

BAGHDAD, May 2 — The Bush administration is planning to withdraw most United States combat forces from Iraq over the next several months and wants to shrink the American military presence to less than two divisions by the fall, senior allied officials said today.

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I was  going to blog today, then I found out that life has no meaning or purpose.

So, why bother?

I’m not so sure that we have no meaning or purpose other than what we bring to the table ourselves.

I think it may be that we have meaning and purpose, it’s just that we don’t like it and don’t accept it.

I mean, what would happen if you found out that your purpose in life was to take care of a certain blue eyed cat named Sinatra.  That’s it.  That’s why you are here.  No grand scheme and no meta-importance, just a small thing.  I think that is what we are really afraid to discover and, so, reject all meaning and purpose.

I have sometimes thought my only meaning and purpose was to provide a little DNA to a couple of human children with transformative powers and that I’d accomplished that and there was nothing worthwhile left to do.  Later, I thought that the example of my sobriety brought others into sobriety and that maybe in doing so I was accomplishing some other meaning and purpose in my own life. 

I long ago gave up the idea of myself as the indispensible man, Ozimandius and Ubermensch.  My life is unlikely to be enshrined in a mural, my words won’t be etched in stone.  Might I not still have some smaller purpose, some less grand meaning?

Maybe something a little better than cat owner, however, if you don’t mind.

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