Boring things about a dead guy

J.D. Salinger died a day or two ago. If this was 20 years ago I'd be bummed out about his death, but these days I don't really care.

The only reason for this post to show off this ancient copy of Catcher in the Rye I got a thrift store several years ago. (I think I paid 25¢.) It's unusual in that it actually has an illustration of Holden Caufield on the cover. Or at least it's unusual to me. The only other copies I've ever seen are the stupid burgundy one everyone and their grandma has.



And here's the back.



This post was so great in my head, but it just died on the screen. Maybe I should go back to not posting since I do that so well.

I'm on the internets

I guess it's time for a new blog post. Sadly, I have nothing at all to write about. What have I been doing lately? Working at my crummy job mostly, but when I'm at home I've been camped out in the living room under a blanket. My office is cold enough to store meat, so I don't spend much time in there anymore. I'm waiting for the spring thaw. The laptop keeps my junk from freezing and breaking off.

Also, here's a video of a really fat cat. Listen the nice THUD it makes when it falls over.

New Year, New Bleh

Finally all the holiday crap is over and things can get back to normal. The problem is normal sucks. But at least Grady is gone.



The filthy beast was jettisoned from my life a week ago, but I still bear the physical and mental scars. Horrible! Next Christmas I hope he's discovered the wonderful world of laziness, a skill I thought cats were born with. I dread the thought of another holiday of that furry terror going behind the TV, charging the doors at full speed, climbing the walls, attacking people, trying to eat my cookies, etc.

Note: this is an eight month old cat, but he's already ten pounds and huge. Next year he'll be twice that. I dread Christmas.