Writing On the Wall Will Tell You

Larry, the little black cat bent on stealing your soul, glances around, nervous. I gave up on trying to bribe him with fishes, treats, cold cuts, hunks of chicken, bowls of gravy, saucy cat food and went straight for a dirty. low down trick: I pounce on him while he’s sleeping and give him yucky medicine from the dropper. It hasn’t been a popular move but it has been effective. After a few more days, I’ll return to sweet-talking My Little Predator, when I feel sure he’s steadier and plotting my demise.

Sweet fancy Moses, someone left the cap off the glue at Casa Johnny:

I’ve been a Gillette man as long as I’ve been shaving. My cousin Bubba, who worked there, recommended whatever their new razor was, twenty years ago, to me. I tried it and, sure enough, it was a quantum leap forward in shaving technology. It had a futuristic name. Quantum or something. So when I saw their new five-blade battery-powered vibrating shaver at Target, I bought one immediately. I took it home and shaved with it and, sure enough, another quantum leap. It felt so smooth on my face, diaphanous, even, that I took off all my clothes and shaved myself all the way down to my feet. Even my most intimate areas, which you would think would be difficult to work with, never mind even reach, are now baby’s-bottom smooth. I feel like an anatomically correct, if not politically correct, mannequin.

Cough! Cough! Smooth! Dude, have you met my cat? He’s covered with fur.

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