Every time I go up north I get some kind of culture shock, whether it be the chick in the 5X snowman print jammies (with the thong strap hanging out) attempting to single-mouthedly devour an entire Taco Bell, or the dude in the Walmart with a face full of piercings, and arms covered in various white supremacist tats that I wish I had been able to get a picture of but I didn’t have the courage. I always get to see the cutting edge of redneck culture when I visit my parents, and this weekend did not disappoint.
Dad did wonder why I wanted a picture of that, until I blew it up and he could read what was written on the Kotex. Then he had to acknowledge that it was funny, and worth taking a pic. I am glad that Steve-o never put Sharpie + maxi pad together when he was going through his Puberty Demon visitation. I am sure he would have left Kotex commentary everywhere. I know he covered one of his buddy’s cars in them once, but they must not have had a Sharpie handy.
I can think of better pranks, but this one is fairly harmless.
One of my favorite things about digital cameras is just how easy it is to point, click, upload and share. I know the guys at work have been begging me to get a video camera for the longest time so they can observe Jerry’s antics, but I can’t dig it up in that little emotional stub I have in place of a heart to do it. Just because it is potential YouTube gold doesn’t mean it’s very nice to film it. Admittedly, after last night’s oat opera episode I did feel like getting some sweet, sweet revenge, but I plugged in the Skullcandys (they have some really nice noise cancelling headphones) and enjoyed some favorites from the 80s instead. I don’t know why, but when Jerry gets into his “I wanna crank up bad country music” mode, he goes for the twangiest, most god-awful country station in the area. Even when I used to get shitfaced (and this was years and years ago) I can’t think of a time when I was ever shitfaced enough to enjoy Boxcar Willie- or Willie Nelson for that matter.
Fanny, my behemoth wandering feline, is adjusting much better to her collar, bell and ID tag than I thought she would. I did get a few days’ worth of stink-eye out of it (and cats are masters of the stink-eye) but once it got through her head that the collar wasn’t coming off she has gone into normal Fanny mode which is, “aw, what the hell, as long as I get food.” I should also say catnip, because she goes apeshit over that. Every cat I’ve ever had except Forrest (and he had major Issues) has positively adored the stuff. Isabel rolls and thrashes in it, as does Fluffy-Butt, but Fanny (who normally is not a fighter) will swat the other two away and actually attempt to box them. It’s hilarious to watch.
It’s almost sad that I’m reminded of poor Forrest. He was half-Siamese and had the most beautiful blue eyes. However, the poor guy also had feline herpes, and had been kicked in the face by his previous owner, so he had a broken jaw that never healed right, and most of his teeth were missing. Feline herpes is not a social disease in the way we think of social diseases in humans. It is a disease that can be prevented with a vaccine, but the vaccine has to be given before the cat gets herpes for it to be effective. The herpes infection is present in many cats that never show symptoms, but for some cats, like Forrest, it weakens their immune systems and predisposes them to wicked eye and respiratory infections. The first time he got sick he was dehydrated, blowing snot, had to get sub-cu fluids (this is not a fun process) and had to be force fed with a syringe. Then he had to take the l-lysine supplement for the rest of his life, which did give him several years until he got sick again and he died almost as soon as he got sick the second time. Poor guy was only 12, which isn’t all that old for a cat, but he had suffered a lot before we got him, and he had a weak constitution.
Oh, well. Poor Forrest. And yes, he was named after Forrest Gump, because when we first got him he was terrified of everything and it seemed all he did was run.