A day in the life of the All-Seeing Eye,


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.


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?


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.