Getting (back to my) Gimmick

 

Last week I gave you a Conversation between my cats and wrote about an encounter with a professional exterminator.

 

At least, I think that’s who he was.  It’s possible a passing lunatic came by to murder me but, seeing the truck outside, had a change of heart and murdered the exterminator instead.  Then he stole the uniform and sprayed orange juice around my house so I wouldn’t wonder what happened to the real exterminator. 

 

Unlikely?  Sure.  But it would explain the giant fucking spider Hamilton killed last night while I watched Orange is the New Black.

(Orange is the New Black) CO Luschek steps outside, looks around, goes back into prison. Text flashes: *NOPE!*

 

Anyway, between those two posts you might be wondering if I’ve forgotten the stated goal of this page: to bring you truthful, accurate reports of the things my husband says in the form of my actual conversations with him.  I promise you, it is not so!  Here, let me soothe you with a quick sampling of what it’s been like, living here with him.

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!

Advertisements