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Written on 2001-11-04, at 3:06 p.m.
dizboy's disturbing daily diet...

2 Slices Leftover Pizza

John Live*

*Not at all live.

So things with the new kitten are going fairly well, however he seems to be out to test the limits of my sanity.


He does things that he knows make me insane.

Like jumping up on the counters...

But not just jumping up on the counters, no...He makes sure to alert me he's up there by knocking something to the floor.

Then, as I rise to viciously spray him with the squirt bottle, he'll position himself directly between the toaster and the electrical outlet, as if to say...

"You feelin' lucky, punk?"

He's teething, as well...and seems to have taken to my nose as a chew toy.

"Now John, why would you LET him chew on your nose?"

Well, when he does it as you're sleeping...you don't have much of a choice.

I awoke to a sharp pain in my olfactory area, and an eye-to-eye gaze with a seemingly pacified kitten.

The surreal moment lingered for, well, a moment, disrupted by me yelling...

"Hey..HEY, OW...get off!".

He released, making it a point to do it slowly and methodically, then walked back to the foot of the bed, turning around only once to give me that look which stated that he didn't understand why I was the only person in this apartment not to embrace nose-biting as a perfectly acceptable form of social expression.

He does the normal cat things, like going from a sleeping position, to zooming across the room, then sauntering back to his spot and returning to slumber.

He uses the litterbox like a pro, but he seems to think that it's his own personal beach, as well.

Potty time turns into play time for him, cavorting around the rectangular recepticle with shameless joy, spreading kitty litter to all corners of the bathroom.

But the thing that he seems to love most is discovering things in the deepest recesses of the apartment, and then presenting them to me.

Socks, receipts, carcasses of insects, long forgotten condom wrappers...

All trotted out of their hiding places, and presented to me as if they were all the gold of the Sierra Madre's.

To which I'll look down, ready to be annoyed, until I see the beaming look of pride on his little face.

"Look! Look what I've found for you!"

So I have no choice but to humor him, and take these with great reverence, feigning interest, wondering where I can put his unsolicited offering...

Well, the garbage, but only when he's not looking.

So that's it.

All she wrote.

No more.



Last night, at exactly 2:00am, EST, we officially put a lid on Halloween Horror Nights XI.

I must say, that for all the griping that went on, this was a great event, and I believe that I've made some long-term friendships.

Ok, enough with the Hallmark Movie of the Week talk...

The time is 1:55am...the place..."Ooze Zone Fright Club", the foam party within Halloween Horror Nights.

I'm standing at the edge of the dance floor, as it clears of guests for the evening.

Without a warning, my cast rushes me, picks me up, and the next thing I know, I'm soaked from head to to in foam.

Slimy, soapy, foam.

And within a few minutes, the majority of the management team was in there as well.

It was a wonderful little bonding moment, watching everyone, and I think I felt a twinge of sadness...

...either that, or the egg rolls I ate earlier that night weren't sitting well.

Be well...


Your Host and Emcee...dizboy.

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