A day in the life of the All-Seeing Eye,
Or
Too much pop culture will rot your brain.
Act 1, Scene 1
Not Venice. A bed.
Enter
ASE,
Joker the Kitten,
Alarm Clock
Alarm Clock: 5:34, the time the first
infinitesimal ray of light crests the curve of the earth behind drawn blinds and thick dark blue floor length curtains in my
part of the world.
Joker, tiny
beast forged in the
bowels of Hell and shipped in an
ebony crate made of the
bones of madmen to the local
pet store, awakes. The
sleeping ape who feeds him must pay.
ASE: "Zzzzzzz".
Joker: Brrrt. Meeeyou. Brrrrrrrt. Purrr. Snikt*. SHRED SHRED SHRED! - *tiny noise made by 20 little razors popping up.
ASE: "What the!" - It sounds like the bed is being feed into a
shredder inches from my head.
Diagnosis:
Kitty.
A
Benny Hill-esque chase ensues. Kitty is captured, but struggles like an escaped
Nazi war criminal. His reward? Locked out of the room... at least that was the plan...
ASE: "HA! Now to close the door and squeeze a few more
precious moments of
sleep out of the morning".
Door: Thump. Thump. Thump. - the door won't click shut.
ASE: "Grrr!"
Door: THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! - no
click for you.
ASE: "Aw
screw it." - Back to bed.
Seconds later:
Enter Joker the kitten.
Joker: PUURRRRRRRR.
Exeunt Joker and ASE to
Dreamland.
Alarm clock: Click! "This is
CBC Radio One News. The time is now 7:00. Today in ....Zzzzt" -
Snooze is pressed in a forceful manner.
ASE: "Zzzzzzz"
Alarm clock: 7:24
Alarm clock: 7:36
Alarm clock: 7:58
Joker:
Meow?
ASE: "AH
CRAP!"
Late for work, but luckily nobody is in the office to notice. I work work work till lunch, after posting a
node on my morning break. I ask my coworkers if their animals are
sunlight activated. The conversation strays into the weird little
subgutteral noises that Joker makes. My fiancee calls it "Marge-ing out", ala
Marge Simpson. When he is frustrated or mad, he'll
gurgle at whatever is ticking him off. Seems to be a particular
oddity in my cat alone.
Ah
Lunch, greatest of the daily meals.
Breakfast and I had a falling out many years ago and we rarely talk anymore. Down to the little
food court and back in record time.
Caesar salad demands the consumption of
Clorets. Clorets
precludes the consumption of
Coke. Drink Coke anyway. Minty yet
disgusting.
Work Work Work. Pop the
catbox open and watch the fun. Think of what spend my
retroactive paycheck on, thank you
Union. Shop for computer parts. Wonder why
Roninspoon hasn't been on
Star Wars Galaxies much often. Conclude that he must have a
life.
Day dream.
Back on the
bus with the horrors of
1666 London to keep me entertained. Enraptured, almost miss my stop 45 minutes later. Try reading while walking home. Stop.
Tie shoe. Survey my front lawn from the
street. It is decidedly a different shade of green than that of my neighbors. A more
olive drab to his
forest green. Plan to call
Weedman tomorrow.
Mmmm. Barbecued
porkchops. Mmmm. Cauliflower and cheese sauce fresh from
Green Giant. Ahhh, the finest
milk the
grocery store has to offer. Watch "
The Young and the Restless", feigning disinterest. Mmmm,
soap opera vixens. Make "Dun dun duunnnnnnn"
cliffhanger noise at show's end to fiancee's amusement. Clean the kitchen. Change out of work clothes. To the
garage!
Ah, a man's
domain. The black
monolith of my latest project sits in the middle of the floor
freshly painted. A
MAME cabinet,
cabaret size, lovingly restored and adapted from an abused old
video poker machine. I begin sanding a few salvaged bits of hardware, wire up the
marquee lighting fixture and screw kick plates and speaker covers on. It is nearing completion and it looks
bad-ass. A few minutes with a
power sander, a few zips with the
power drill and a bit of mopping up. Till tomorrow.
Test the
jury-rigged controls upstairs on the spare computer. Add a few layers of paint on some
miniature projects, and toss back another
Coke. Retreat to the basement. Try for 45 minutes to beat the
Water boss in
Crash Bandicoot: The Wrath of Cortex for my fiancee on the
PS2. Quit unsuccessful, foiled by a
jumping puzzle. Fire up
Star Wars Galaxies. Take the shuttle from
Bestine to
Mos Espa and hike to
Fort Tusken. Log out. Watch the
Fear Factor with
Miss USA contestants on it. Wonder why I bother with
TV anymore.
Surf surf surf. Play with the cat. Wonder why it is so quiet. Notice it is
midnight. To bed, perchance to dream.