Decisions, decisions.

So, I got Norman fixed. Was it revenge or did I just want to prepare him for his inevitable existence as an outside cat without the wrath of the Landlady who has female cats? Revenge. Totally.

I wake up at 3am and Norman is on my shoulder staring down at me with his eyes wide and his ears back. I know he wants me dead. He just hasn't figured out how to accomplish that and still get fed.

He wants me dead.

Was suckered into taking yet another cat into my home. I just got rid of a dog, but this cat had a sad story and it was living in someones basement. I had just moved to the country so I figured I would take it, turn it into and outside cat (I don't believe any animal should be allowed to shit IN your home) and if it ran away? It was God's will.

So I get this cat. Its a Russian Blue...pretty and it appeared to be quite lovable. His name was Mandu. (Get it?)

I get it home and it is one of those 'never leave you alone' cats. Rubbing up against your leg, mewing sweetly and generally making a nuisance of himself. I am sitting at the desk, surfing the net and Mandu is exploring. He finds his way under the desk and is rubbing against my leg which is my queue to reach down and pet him, right?

So I reach down and am petting him when all of a sudden he chomps down on my hand. I scream but he does not let go, he has a death grip on my hand. I look down and he is looking at me with crazy eyes, his ears flattened to his head. 

WTF, DUDE?

I have to literally kick him (which is not an easy task for a fat chick) to get him to let go. He finally does and as I tend to my wounds, he is sitting in the corner, growling at me.

This is when I rename him Norman. (fucking psycho)

Ya Ya Ya...I know.

I know I have said this a lot over the last few years. But seriously I do intend to blog more. So much has happened over the last few years since I quit smoking and started vaping. I thought I could catch up but it looks like I will just have to carry on from here.

I have moved again....the previous pictures of the apartment that didn't work out. Well it would have worked out if the landlady had not (after only 5 months) started talking about raising the rent, substantially. I could see where this was going and I think I was already paying too much rent for what I had. Anyway....onward. Moved back out to the place where I grew up. In a trailor, all by my lonesome.

Opened a vape shop in town. Doing well. Film at eleven.