The waste land

Mia Sopaipilla auditions for the starring role in a feline take on the noir classic "The Meowtese Falcon."

Mia Sopaipilla auditions for the starring role in a feline take on the noir classic "The Meowtese Falcon."

T.S. Eliot was full of shit. “April is the cruellest month,” my large, pale Irish-American ass. So far, May in Bibleburg sucks like a New Orleans pumping station crosswired to a black hole.

It can’t even rain properly around here, f’chrissakes — just this mincing little dribble that reminds me of why I fled Oregon like a Norway rat rocketing out of a sewer pipe. Fog, gray skies, the temperatures barely above freezing, Mia toasting her bum on the DSL modem and Turkish begging to go out for reasons only known to himself. Maybe he’s sick of dried cat chow and dreams of catching a passing fish, if there are any with legs in these parts. Good luck — that species appears to be restricted to Darwin emblems affixed to Volvos.

Up in Crusty County, meanwhile, my man Hal Walter has taken on the swine whine with recommendations for reducing your vulnerability to marauding bugs. It boils down to reducing stress and eating properly, which is a lot cheaper than building a R. Buckminster Fuller geodesic dome with an airlock and enduring hourly rubdowns with Lysol.

2 Responses to “The waste land”

  1. khal spencer Says:

    Most of Hal’s advice sounds good, especially the advice to avoid the intellectual drivel that the nation is awash in these days. Stress is a killer and watching the mental midgets on TV or reading them in the paper is a real stress riser in this house.

    However, living in the Southwest and not eating tortillas is a little like living next to Second Street Brewery and not drinking beer. Not a practical solution.

  2. Doug G. Says:

    Great caption on Mia’s picture !

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