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Operation: Litterbox
Written on 2001-11-05, at 10:54 p.m.
dizboy's disturbing daily diet...

1 Bag Cheddar Cheese Chex Mix

1 Liter Coke

Ladies and gentlemen...Health.


John Live*

Looking tired, rough, and nearsighted.

*Not at all live


I went shopping for the cat today, buying him a milk substitute, and a larger, enclosed litterbox, to prevent my bathroom from looking like the Gobi Desert.

The Gobi Desert of cat droppings.

Now, here's the tough part...I live right next door to the leasing office of my complex...

That reminds me, I have to go drop off my rent check.

Be right back.

Ok, so...I live right next door to the leasing office of my complex, and, well...

They are currently unaware as to my recent acquisition, namely, the nameless cat.

And they know me fairly well, plus, I know that at least one of them is out to nail my ass with that $300 pet deposit...

Why?

Well...

About 2 months ago, something had happened, I don't even remember what it was now, but I ended up not getting my rent in on time.

So I went to the leasing office right after it opened that morning, to beg forgiveness...

Because, this had happened once before, earlier in the year, when my friend had to go to the hospital, and the office manager at that time took sympathy on me, since it was still early in the morning, and the checks had not yet been sent out.

However, this time, my plea would fall on deaf ears.

When the leasing agent said, "No, we can't take it now, it's late.", I said "Oh please...I...". Then proceeded to spout off what was surely some heart wrenching lie.

"Listen, you can talk to the manager if you want."

"Fine, please."

I'm led into the managers office, and take in the vision of something that looks like a poorly stuffed sausage wrapped inside a "Dress Barn" suit.

I launch into my story, and she says...

"No, it's late."

I then pulled out my trump card:

"But the last time, they understood...and took it..."

She took off her glasses, looked at me, and said...

"Well then...first time, shame on us, second time, shame on you."

Aghhhh, what???

Not really one to take to obscure catch phrases, I responded...

"So...did you read that one in "Bitch Quarterly", or did you make it up all by yourself?"

Needless to say, I had to pay the late fee.

Well, that's why I know that at least one person in the office is out to get me.

Which is the reason I felt like I was smuggling arms into the Middle East this afternoon.

I drove the opposite way around the complex, just to case the office, and make sure there wasn't a team of highly trained law enforcement officials waiting to take me down, and confiscate my "Van Ness Jumbo-Sized Covered Litter Pan."

I ended up sitting in my car until I knew the coast was here, then dashing up the back staircase like someone fleeing from the FBI.


Well, the cat now seems like he'll be a permanent fixture, so he's going to need a name.

I...I am very terrible at naming animals, in fact my last cat was over two years old before I settled on a name for her.

So, if anyone has any suggestions, I'd be happy to hear them, so let me know.

Just remember, it's a boy...

So no, Ian...no Labia.

Be well...

-JOHN-

P.S.-I signed up for Clix the other day, so if you have the extra 2 seconds, click the box up there on the left to vote for me, and for this diary.

Or else.


Your Host and Emcee...dizboy.

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