How Humid Is It?

This is a first.

It's so humid and wretched outside that I actually saw a fat tabby around the corner sit in complete exhaustion as two of the loudest birds I've ever encountered squawked and flapped no less than 5 feet from this cat. I looked at the cat and clearly said, "Get up, do something!" The birds continued to squawk in defiance as if to shout, "Fat Ass! You'll never take us alive!"

Now that's some bad weather, kiddies.

Killing and hunting is a learned skill for most cats, but even the slightest curiosity would have made Tabby-Tubbo sit up and swat while Heckyll and Jeckyll swooped over. Just when you think you've seen it all....

In other news, idiots from my past continue to annoy. I found Dudley- who made my life a living email hell 5 summers ago-plastered all over myspace, and another vain bastard who I've commonly referred to as The Turd lurking in myspace corners, as well. This vain prick is dating a 30 year old and lying about his own age. Um, you're 41. You're not 32. Cut the shit. True to form, he's picked a lovely, sweet, princess cupcake to lie to since his modus operandi (which hasn't changed in 20 years) is have a girlfriend, but screw around on the side. I'm sure the increasing use of the internet has only made his lies even more creative. I particularly enjoy the plug where Turd mentions, "I'd like kids one day." Um, as I remember our mutual friend Howie telling me in 1995, he has a son named Cory, a product of his first marriage (which I'm sure he denies) to a stripper/hooker back in 1993. Gee, that didn't last long. Commitment? Growing up? Nahh...much better to be a selfish prick and use up all the women you can get your grubby hands on since your face doesn't age. I'm sure one day the Dorian Gray picture he's got hiding somewhere will fall off the wall or--and this is the scenario of which I fantasize constantly--a team of women he's screwed over (and WE are LEGION) will grab some hazmat suits, zip up, take Turd hostage, grab some muriatic or hydrochloric acid and fling it in his face. (Think "Hostel" with some Joe Lynn Turner playing in the background.) Just his face, since he's always used his looks as a mask to wield immeasurable power. Now THAT would be justice.

I'm still unemployed, and waiting for a place to make a decision. I'm damn near writing them off, but I did have a good interview last week with Ziff Davis media. I nagged them so they'd remember me, and I was told this morning that after the first round of interviews, I'd be picked. In reality, I'll be going over to the Welfare office tomorrow morning to discuss my options. None of these agencies have helped me, everyone's on vacation, and the summer has been sloooow. If this yenta bitch had taken care of things properly, it would have been the beginning of March and not Valentine's Day where my benefits would have kicked in. Stretch that out to six months, and you see it would have been September, where everyone begins to look for people rather than August, where budgets still languish and no one cares.

My luck really is stagnating. I just don't know what the hell to do.