How to wash a cat.


  • 1 toilet
  • 1 toilet brush
  • 1 bottle toilet cleaner
  • 1 bottle cat shampoo
  • 1 bottle cat conditioner
  • 1 helper (preferably a heavy person who is a stranger to the cat, with leather gloves and thick boots)
  1. Clean out the toilet real nice, removing all stains and smells.
  2. Flush the toilet, after it fills up, add shampoo and conditioner, following instructions on label.
  3. Get the cat. Love the cat. Pet the cat. Talk nice to the cat.
  4. Drop the cat into the toilet, close lid quickly.
  5. Have helper stand on toilet lid. (The boots will protect their feet from getting slashed…)
  6. Open all doors leading out of the house. Make sure no living creatures are located between the toilet and the outside.
  7. Flush twice. Once for the wash, once for the rinse.
  8. Have helper open the lid (gloves will come in handy here…)

Rememberies, Part 1

My first “real” memory was of myself probably about 2 years old or so. I’m sitting on a hardwood floor, in a patch of warm sunshine coming in through the screen door. I’m playing with plastic dinosaurs, all shapes and sizes, in neon colors. I remember being warm and happy but not much else. I think we were living somewhere in Southern California at the time, my dad having just got his first real assignment in the Navy. Also, I remember seeing a photograph from this time, me in a Navy Dixie cup hat, chubby cheek baby, drinking from a water fountain as someone holds me up, somewhere on a Navy base, I guess… I don’t remember the actual experience…

When I say “real” memory I mean one that wasn’t brought up from and old picture or movie. Sometimes I’ll think of something from the past and the images I get are in black and white! I was always a big one for looking through the extensive photo albums we had and some of those pictures have implanted themselves as memories, sometimes replacing the images I already had. It seems the black and white “memories” have stuck around a longer time becuase they were reinforced better. A real memory is only experienced once, even and old black and white photograph can be “re-lived” countless times…

My dad was a great one for taking pictures and Super 8mm, until recently I had a video tape of some old 8mm he took when us kids were young, doing things I could not remember doing until I saw the images on the TV. Making new “old memories,” I guess, laying down new pathways in the brain. How much real experience was “overwritten” to make way for the “modified” memories, I wonder. Even though I’m just 38, I’ve seen a lot of stuff, been all over the world and packed a lot of images and memories in this old skull. Good times, bad times, thing I wish I had done better, things I wish I could do the same all over again, regrets, desires…

Maybe that’s one of the reasons I want to write some of this stuff down. To help jog my memory, to records something of what I was before I get old and forget all of it. I fear that, a little bit; not being able to remember what I’ve experienced being alive for a lot of years…

When I was a kid I wanted so much to be “grown-up” because everything moved so slow and I “knew” only good things could happen to me as a grown-up. Well, I know how all that went… When you are 10 years old, a year is one-tenth of your life experience and seems to take forever to go by. When you are forty, a year is only one-fortieth of your life and just screams on past, sometimes too fast to grab hold of.

Would I trade everything to be back in 1964, playing in that spot of sun? On the cusp of doing it all over again? Good question… If I had to make a conscious choice to go back, I don’t know if I could. As fucked up as my life has become, I’ve got a lot of memories I want to keep forever, memories I would not have if I had done something different down the line. But if the choice was made by someone, something else, and I found myself back with the neon dinosaurs? I would enjoy living that life all over again, you bet your ass…

Baby Black and Blues

We’ve got a new “baby” here at the ranch, a 2 and a half pound, eight-week old bundle of puppy, a little yap dog rat terrier, called “Teena.” I’ve seen these dogs grown up, they are great jumpers and climbers, and they corner well too!

The Wife decided a few weeks ago to keep an eye out for a new puppy she can baby… We happened to check a pet store that was advertising “Oodles of Poodles” (apparently you only need four to be considered an oodle, I always thought and oodle was more than a bunch but less than a shitload…) when this fat, stubby, little ankle biter caught her eye. Having the rent due in less than a week, I offered to put a deposit on it for her, but once she had the thing out, there was no putting it back…

I laughed my ass off the first time Teena growled and barked at our dobie, a dog who could eat it in two bites if it weren’t such a sweetie…

Random Stuff (First Light)

How much obscure can that title be….

My favorite bumper sticker on my “Piece O Shit” wagon (I have seven or eight stickers now) says: “MEAN PEOPLE SUCK, Nice People Swallow..” My second favorite says, “Jesus is coming, LOOK BUSY!” My SO loves the one that says, “THIS IS NOT AN ABANDONED VEHICLE!” Like that would keep it from getting towed…

I’d like to be a fiction writer instead of a computer jockey, but I don’t have the motivation to write every day. I might no even have the talent either. It’s just a dream of mine. Maybe this OD thing will help. What do you think an old, white middle-aged, computer freak reads? Sci-Fi of course!

I have trouble getting motivated to get my work done. Lots of times it’s hard to just keep up with what I HAVE to do. So many of the things I WANT to do push the important stuff. Maybe I have ADD or some such. They didn’t have that kinda crap when I was a kid. Well, maybe they did but it was called laziness or hyper-active and drugs where administered…

I’m a gun freak too. Like to have them, like to shoot them. I guess that means I have a small dick too. I haven’t seen that many others to compare… ha ha… Everyone’s welcome to their opinion, they are just like assholes, everyone’s got ’em, they all stink…