If I were independently wealthy, one of the first things that I would do is have the hosts of the morning radio show, the one that wakes me up every morning, the one that is all racist/chauvinistic/ignorant banter, let’s call it the Bill and Ted Show, I would hire a professional killer, preferably ex-CIA, to kill them. Every last one of them. Slowly, and while making them listen to Jim Dandy to the Rescue. Or, for that matter, the entire Overboard soundtrack.

It is so friggin’ early. But, alas, it is Friday. You know what that means. My new article is up on the City Wire, lunch with Word to Me, and a million dollars. Made you look.

So much to talk about this morning.

Curly Bill got through his first interview and is scheduled for a second interview, a very good sign, today. Send as many doogies as you can muster his way today, if you would. Please and thank you.

Yesterday’s room addition touch up event involved me driving way out to Riley Farm and discovering that the fence panel was measured and constructed in the Winter. What I mean by that is, it is now Summer, and it is hot. Metal, like most things, expands as the temperature increases according to Charles’s law (if temperature increases, volume increases). Anyway, so I immediately had to load the fence panel in the van and drive it out past Figure Five to have Seesaw Shawn cut it and reweld it. Then I drove it back. At which point Le Duke and I hung it up and we were done. That was my whole day. I drove a fence panel around. Thank goodness for small blessings.

After I got off work, Pancake Land called me to say that she loves me, and that the Humane Society has two foster kitten for us. Kittens! They are about 10 weeks old, so we will only have them for about two weeks. Now that we have them, I have to say say that I prefer much younger kittens. These two are more like little cats than they are like kittens. They already have a personality and they are too feisty to really teach the house rules to. Plus, Eazy is not pleased with these other adolescent males being on his turf. Yesterday there was a whole lotta arching backs and hissing and growling going on in our house. It is not that they don’t like each other, it’s more like they are freaked out by each other. You can tell that they really want to play together, but they get freaked out and don’t. For example, Eazy will be playing with the roll of bubble wrap and one of the new boys will run up excitedly, jump on the bubble wrap roll, and then they will both freeze and then start growling. They are just not used to each other, yet. Of course, by the time they all settle down and get comfortable, the new boys will leave and the next round will begin. So, I guess you’ve figured out by now that we have two more boys. Wanna meet them? Voila:

Hobbes.

and

Indiana (Indy).

Are they some handsome boys, or what? I am a big fun of Hobbes’s cheesy grin. Brilliant. They are still a little skittish, but they are now beginning to associate we white apes with providing them with food and attention. Ah, the warming up process.

Speaking of warming up, today is the day of destruction. That brick wall will fall to its knees in the presence of my metalness. Unfortunately, I do not have my own sledge hammer. I used to have a two pound hand sledge, but it has gone M.I.A. and I have now learned that purchasing a sledge hammer is a lot like buying a car or a house, it must be thought out and researched. You can’t just go buy a weapon of destruction all willy nilly. I did, however, get to play the serial killer role at WalMart* last night. I had to ask someone where the sledge hammers were and when the guy showed me the full size hammers, I asked he if he had anything smaller, more intimate. I actually used the phrase “something more intimate” when asking a salesperson about a sledge hammer. Awesome. The guy just chuckled in that “Please sir, don’t kill me.” kind of way. But, despite my awesome adventure, no hammer. That’s all right. I’ve still got my mitts.

And with that, I’m outta here. More soon. ~SC