My Cat Is Wierdly Evil, by Adam Grigg

First, when it wants food, it begs and begs until your head almost explodes; and then it barfs up these hairballs all over the place, and usually exactly the same place where we step, where we sleep, or mostly in any unexpected place. You never know when you are going to step in puke.

And now, about the cat being irritating: if you let the cat out just before you go to bed, it wants back in at 2 am. Most of the time, just when you get calm, the cat knocks something really large over and you have a gigantic mess to clean up.

To sum it up, the cat is just one of the strangest cats ever. If you are nice to it, it will be nice to you, but that doesn't subside the barfing. My cat is just weird.

Editors note: This was written by corespondent Adam Grigg nearly a year ago, but due to a filing accident was just recently rediscovered.

Carol Hardesty Is Going To Be Very Proud of Me Someday

These summer days, they grow so long at the thrift shop, during the many hours when I have no one in the store, I am using my time very wisely by practicing my singing, dancing, and general performance skills to the songs of the 70's. (please note this is different than when I was just quietly singing while customers were present, just to be annoying) Think Tom Cruise in Risky Business, only I am not in my underpants, though I am wearing sunglasses. When my big break comes I will be ready Carol, I won't miss my calling a second time.

I Am Growing So Weary of Looking at These Pictures Of Australia

Won't any of you fascinating co-authors share with us your insights and adventures. We know you do stuff.

Mullypalooza Rocks, Cheers, Bores, Eventually Annoys

(Vermillion, SD) - South Dakota-born Floridian Molly W. recently brought her own special brand of delightful banter, humor, gaeity, and insight to family and friends in South Dakota's hottest and quaintest southeastern college town. Accompanied at first by her hilariously droll and straight-shooting Nebraska gal-pal Mindy, Wortham was a welcome sight for eyes that had not set upon her since UK Wedding-a-Ganza 2005.

Charmed at first by Wortham's witty and observational bon mot's regarding gnats and chill, Wortham's loved ones, assured the endearingly cranky witticisms would fade as soon as Wortham acclimated to the climatic environment she herself had lived in for over 30 years, continued to celebrate the very special homecoming of their beloved friend.

Feted with a Mexican lunch, a sushi garden party and a slumber party, special appearances by Claude and Justin, and rollicking rock outs at Carey's Bar (which recently acquired pleather lounge furnishings in anticipation of "Mullypalooza") Wortham appeared to enjoy her time, often sporting giggles and her own charming signature duck laugh.

In spite of Wortham's avid and enthusiastic participation in Vermillion life, however, the critical asides chiding South Dakota's severe welt-inducing insect population and 50 degree-ish weather did not fade with time as was hoped, but rather gathered momentum to such a point as to foresake all other points of conversation.

Numbed at first into boredom and later, total annoyance, Albert Fish, with whom Wortham mostly lodged, said: "Ya knoooow....it's Molly! One would be worried if she wasn't at least a trifle bitchy. But then, as the days dragged into weeks, and her crabby drone overpowered even that of the swarms of humming, biting gnats, I found myself going to my happy place quite frequently. And by happy place I of course mean my bathroom. Or sometimes SpeeDee Mart. The bathroom at SpeeDee Mart, I mean. Anything to escape (and here Fish's voice switched to a bitchy falsetto) 'Oh! Why is it so cold! Oh! Why won't these gnats leave me alone! Oh! Why are you already going to bed, Al, it's only 4:30 in the morning! Oh!'"

Even the initial delight of blood relations turned to beleagurement and eventually intolerance.

"I left victims in the disaster-stricken river basin of the Jim River -- people yearning for food, shelter, dry clothing -- to spend time with my sister whom I love," enjoined Claude Abeln. "Yeah, I bet the citizens of Redfield who lost their homes and their jobs to floods and tornadoes would love to have the luxury of whining about (and here Abeln's voice switched to a bitchy falsetto) 'not being able to find their cute jackets when its just soooo coooold outside, and worrying that their latest bug bite might undo the amazing wrinkle repair provided by pricey cosmeceuticals.'"

Abeln added: "Thank god Justin arrived in time to distract my attention toward titillating tales from the noodle factory."

Worst hit by the unseasonal bitch front was Wortham's younger sister Renee. Having recently built a popular following of writers and artists with her uplifting guidance for the book The Artist's Way, Abeln said her sister's presence at group meetings was a "nice change of pace" at first. But then, Abeln reported, things simply got out of control.

"Okay, so like we talk about being positive about stuff, right? Like, if you can imagine it, you can make it happen, you know?" huffed Abeln. "And, okay, maybe some people might think it's corny, but it, like, works for us and stuff, okay? And so then Molly's at our meeting and she's all like (and here Abeln's voice switched to a bitchy falsetto) 'Blah blah blah blah blah! Oh! Look at me, I manifested Jim Bravo, I manifested Jim Bravo!' And I'm like, yeah, wow, crazy, what are the chances? What are the chances of running into Bravo in Vermillion at Carey's for chrissakes. Like, oh, I don't know, 99 out of 100? And what are the chances that Bravo would have some quirky shit from a Sioux City thrift store that Molly might be interested in? Oh, like 110 in 100 maybe?"

'Oh! I manifested Bravo! Oh!' Abeln continued in a bitchy falsetto. "Oh! You're about to manifest my wedge boot in your ass is what you're manifesting!"

"Molly shoots a few fish in a barrel, and - blammo! - she's mastered the ancient art of channeling positive creative energy and is 'manifesting,'"Abeln added. "Gimme a break."

"I don' know," friend Katy commented. "Tuh listen to her, which'n franky, we all jes' kinna' stopped doin' after 'bout the fift day, you know, you'dda thunk she'd ne'er spent a day on the praaahrie. I mean, I know it's no penninsuhlaahr or tropical pare dise, and we're all real happy she n' Gregg have done real good for themselves down there, him going to Fuji 'n all. But it ain't like she did'n grow up bein' et by gnats and skeeters and eatin' commod cheese and vittles jes like the res' of us. Sheet. An' she wans us'm to go down there and visit her!? Now how we goan 'ford Sundee togs fer that, I aks you?"

Lilacs Are Blooming in Denver

Any of you familiar with the song "Tulips are Blooming in Michigan" should use that tune to sing the title, whether to customers or anyone else who happens to be near enough to be annoyed.

I know about the lilacs in Denver, because I am now employed and spent the first week of work in a 40 hour safety training in that fair city.

I Annoyed Everyone Today

Sometimes at work I like to listen to the seventies station. Today I was compelled to sing along with every song that came on. I know them all, they are all the hits I heard again and again on America's top 40 when i was a wee one, first developing my little musical tastebuds. I even sang in between sentences as I was checking people out. It would be kinda like this "Like a rhinestone cowboy, that willl be $8.56 , in a star-spangled rodeo, thank you ma'am, please come again, getting cards and letters from people I don't even know" Of course my singing voice is not the most melodic, and I sort of sang the songs just loud enough so a person really not really ignore the sound. I sort of felt bad about it, but there was really nothing I could do. Besides it was probably my turn to annoy the customers.