He's a big dumb animal, folks

Three things:

1) I went to a pretty good show on Friday night. Primarily I went to see a band called Warship, whose album Supply and Depend was one of my favorites of last year. They opened for a really bizarre, black-robe-wearing, sword-and-sorcery singing band called Goblin Cock. No, I am not making that up. Both acts were really good, and as an added bonus, the third band, Big Bear, ended up surprising me to the extent that their album has now made it into steady rotation with me. I also ran into two different guys from my high school, which was too bizarre to comprehend.

2) Today's been a relatively busy day -- I did a bunch of work outside, now that much of the snow has finally melted. Then, I went to WalMart (ah, cram it). Yeah, this is gonna be one of those stories...

So we have a cat, named Oliver, pictured to the left, who is diabetic. As a result, he needs daily shots of insulin. We're running out of insulin syringes, so off I go to the WalMart pharmacy to get them. For whatever reason, I'm getting some odd looks from the other customers, but whatever. I get up to the counter, give them the namem and after giving me the stink eye momentarily, the pharmacist gets my box. I pay, I grab the box, and turn to leave... not realizing that the person behind me is standing awfully close to me. Anyway, I knock into her a little, and drop my stuff, and knock her crap (some tylenol, a bag of cookies, and some shitty looking romance novel) out of her hands as well. Next thing I know, I'm on my hands and knees, apologizing profusely, stammering and sweating as I do when I'm embarassed. The woman, and the pharmacist, is looking at me like I just exposed myself. That's when I sort of take it in... I'm kind of busted-looking. I haven't shaved in a couple of days, I certainly haven't showered today, I'm wearing a hideous (but ridiculously comfy) green hoodie that's basically covered in cat hair because one of the cats slept on it and I usually don't wear it out of the house, a beat-up Guinness baseball cap, and cargo pants that have what looks suspiciously like dog poo on one knee (like I said, I was working in the yard).

Clearly, I did not take the time to examine my appearance before I left. I realize now that's a step I should have included in my routine. I've learned from it. Let's move on.

So. There I am. Scrambling around, stuttering, dirty, with a box of spilled syringes on the floor of a WalMart. People are staring at me like I'm some sort of borderline-psychotic skeevy druggie. Awesome. I briefly consider screaming, "DON'T YOU JUDGE ME! MY CAT HAS DIABEETUS! DO YOU WANT HIM TO DIE?! DO YOU?!" But I don't, because there's no need to add WalMart to the already somewhat lengthy list of places I've been forcibly removed from.

Sigh. I need a vacation.

Oh, that's right. That leads us to number 3:

Did I mention we're going to the Caribbean tomorrow? No? Oh. Well, we are. So I'll be off the grid for a few days as I swim, bask in the sun, and drown myself in rum. Have a good week folks!



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Now playing: Jaguar Love - bats over the pacific ocean
via FoxyTunes