Wednesday, Apr. 16, 2003
Dear Diary:

I was sprawled out on the sofa last night watching the tee vee when the spousal unit gave me a compliment about how buff my legs are getting.

I preened shamelessly. I began bragging about my other fitness accomplishments, about how much weight I'm squatting now, how much I can bench press. I made the spousal unit feel my bicep.

Oh be quiet. That is *not* the behaviour of a five-year-old.

He was duly impressed. At least, I think he was. And, even if he wasn't, the man had enough common sense to feign he was impressed. That's what counts.

My cat Zoe hopped up at the foot of the sofa and started to walk up the length of my body. She hit my tummy and immediately began to kneed. Her paws sank into the less than firm flesh at least half an inch. Oh, who am I trying to kid? The cat looked like she was standing on human quick sand. The spousal unit started to snicker at the sight.

Busted by my own pet. I may have legs o' steel, but I continue to have abs o' marshmallow, which Zoe amply demonstrated. Where's the gratitude for the years and years of care, I ask you? The endless replenishments of the food bowl, the water bowl, the kitty litter? How about all those vet bills? How about all the affection I have lavished on her small furry body? Huh? HUH?

Would it have cost her anything to pretend that my abs were much, much too firm to be a kitty kneading zone?

Nuh-uh.

Fuzzy ingrate.

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 207.67 miles (334.1 kilometers) Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers

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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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