Okay, so tonight was laundry night. I left work around 5:45pm, went running, and then came home for a fun-filled evening of laundry. Between loads of laundry, I chatted with people on the computer and downloaded MP3s. As I write, I am drying my last load. Hallelujah. I am tired and ready for sleep. Because of that, I recently flossed and then brushed my teeth. It was while doing this that I made a disturbing discovery, which I will share with you.
An aside: Rasputin, one of my two cats, likes floss. It started when he was a kitten. He would jump up on the bathroom counter and try to attack the floss while I was using it. Needless to say I had to stop him, because his attacks did not always hit their intended target. But when I was done flossing, I would dangle it for him to play with. He'd bat it around and try to eat it. I would keep a firm grip, though, and after one of us tired of the game, I'd throw the floss away.
Fast forward until this Christmas. I ran out of floss, and so was forced to borrow some from my brother Matt. Turns out his floss is lightly dusted with some minty stuff. Fine, whatever. I thought Rasputin might not like this, because he recoils from the smell of toothpaste. I was wrong. He loved the smell and taste of this new floss. Or maybe he would like any smell/taste, so long as it was applied to floss. Whatever the case, he attacked it with amazing vigor. It was clear he liked the new taste. This became even clearer to me when, after I threw the floss away, he licked the taste off my fingers. I should mention that Rasputin is not much of a licker when it comes to people. Nor was a guy named Sticker that Matt, our friend Phil, and I met in Las Vegas, but that's another story*. Back to Rasputin -- yeah, he never licks me. Well, rarely. Every once in a while he'll throw a lick or two my way, but nothing sustained. But once I started using Matt's floss, the game did not end when I threw it away.
Ok, now back to the present. My current floss also has a pleasing taste to Rasputin. Tonight when I flossed, he was otherwise occupied. He was drinking water from the bathtub faucet, I believe. Anyway, I was brushing my teeth by the time he made an appearance. However, he seems to know that if I am brushing my teeth, I must just have flossed. So he ambled over, I extended my left hand, and he proceeded to lick my flossing fingers (my thumb and first two fingers).
While Rasputin was doing this, I got a bright idea. I thought it would be amusing to grab his tongue. I can't believe I hadn't done it before. I mean, I always used to poke my finger in his mouth when he was yawning. So I waited until his tongue darted out and I grabbed it. The top of his tongue, as even a schoolchild knows, was rough and scratchy. No surprise there. But the bottom was SLICK and SLIPPERY. I would go so far as to say it was super slippery. It was a stark contrast to the top part. It felt GROSS. I grabbed it a few more times just to confirm what I had felt, until he got sick of me grabbing his tongue and wandered off.
Now, logically, sure, the bottom of his tongue does not need to be rough. But dammit, MY tongue is the same on top and on bottom. The underside of human tongues may not be pretty to look at, but it feels like the rest of the tongue. Or close, anyway. But with cats it is like night and day.
For some reason, this disturbed me almost as much as when I read that, underneath all their fur, cats have tails that are not unlike rat tails. RAT TAILS. Imagine it.
Oh, I almost got in a bad car accident on Saturday morning. Some car tried to drive right into me. I'll try to describe it. I was on a 5 lane road -- 2 lanes for each direction of traffic, and a turn lane in the middle. I was in the left lane of my side of the road. Out of nowhere I see a car from the right that is basically aimed at the front of my car. The angle between our cars was about 45 degrees. If we both kept our present courses, we could collide in about 0.5 seconds. I swerved to the left into the turn lane and hit my horn. The car kept coming at me, and I was getting close to having to either let him hit me, or swerve into oncoming traffic. Obviously I didn't want to try the latter, so I prepared to turn back toward him, hoping to avoid being pushed into the oncoming lanes. I still don't know how we avoided colliding. This all happened in like 1 second, but I remember thinking "There is no way this guy can avoid hitting me". I was quite wired on adrenaline when I got to work.
Why was I working on Saturday morning, you ask? Well, I'm in a new position at work, and it's kinda a position of more responsibility. Which translates into having to work on weekends sometimes. But I was only supposed to work on Sunday, actually. Then on Friday afternoon all of the IBM complex lost its power, which needless to say caused a few problems. So some of us had to come back in on Saturday morning to work on that.
And yes, I also went in on Sunday.
I saw the Royal Tenenbaums again last night. I liked it the first time I saw it, but I liked it even more last night. I want to see it a few more times in theaters before it leaves them. Then I'll eagerly await the DVD.
* - Oh, the story of Sticker. So Matt and Phil and I visited Vegas some time ago, and on Phil's last night there we decided to go out drinking (instead of spending every night gambling, as we had done before. Matt and I played poker, and Phil played blackjack. But I digress.) We settled down at the bar at a casino, and proceeded to drink. Eventually an older black gentleman sat down next to us and started to drink with us. He appeared to be insane, or at least a little bit off-kilter. He had many catch-phrases that he used over and over again. The ones that I best remember are:
"My name is Sticker, and I'm not a licker." (indicating his dislike of cunnilingus, we went on to learn)
"Nothing personal, all business." (Used to qualify many statements, whether they would likely be taken personally or not)
He drank with us for quite a while, and from listening to his exchanges with the bartender, I gathered he was a regular at the place. He was betting on a football game the next day, or maybe he just wanted us to bet on it, I don't remember. I believe he heavily favored the Browns, but it could be the opposite. Anyway, he was quite a character, and we enjoyed talking to him until we had drunk our fill and went to our rooms to pass out. Here's to you, Sticker. I think you're misguided about the licking part, but to each his own, I guess.
Ok, I am tired and I'm going to bed. The laundry is all done. The cats are asleep. The masonry has been upturned, and the mayor is crying.