The things I do for my commentors. Sorry RH, this is the best tart I could come up with at short notice but she's got red hair. Mine used to be that long but one gets old and things fall off or out. Now if you had asked for a bloke, I've got plenty of those but you had to be difficult.
The computer is still playing games with me. Norton is fighting with ZoneAlarm. I've turned off AVG so the spammers are out in force again. Poor dears, when are they going to realize I don't need another 12 inches. I need an anti-gravity hold everything off my feet bra. I will resume the 'pooter tussles tomorrow.
That's after I take the cat to the Vet. He hasn't eaten in days except for a few licks of ice-cream. I'm hoping it's just a wonky tooth and not something more serious. I'm still paying off the mortgage on the last cat. This is the last pet ever. I'm supertitsious, sorry freudian slip there, on the other hand I am rather supertitsious but I did mean supertitsious. It's not me it's Hal, he was always one for the boobs, stupid computer. You know what I mean, the thing about black cats and not walking under ladders so I won't put the kitty litter away because the minute I do, some stray furball will be in under the gate. That sounds a bit callous, I mean this one is still with me. Blame Hal, he doesn't like cats, boobs yes, cats no.