the pit of one thousand demons

The building managers are finally renovating Calcutta, aka the larger of the two women's restroom here at work. So we all have to use the 2-stall mini-loo on the other side of the building. Today I was waiting my turn for a stall when a younger staffer came out looking very abashed. She glanced at me and apologized, because she couldn't get the toilet to flush and had just left everything in the bowl. Hahahaha. This somewhat makes up for the mistaken belief that I was the one who pooed all over the toilet in Calcutta. (Not! My! Fault!)

(the trick with the toilet is to pull UP on the handle -- the normal push-to-flush mechanism does not work on that commode.)

So, it seems our cat Monty has a dingleberry tendency. I have written about this amusing condition before, but it seems that last night was the Grand Finale. I was in the bedroom reading a book when I looked up to see Monty dragging his posterior on the floor and giving me a look. I yelled to Doug: "Doug! Your cat** has a dingleberry again!" and I stood up to assist Monty in its removal. Monty was having none of that, though, and took off into the living room. "Doug, your dingleberry-laden cat needs assistance and is in the room with you!" But Monty was having none of that, either, so he ran back into the bedroom and hid under the bed. With a dingleberry still attached to his butt.

At this point, any right-thinking person would have closed a few doors to prevent the cat from running into other rooms and finding new hiding spots, but we'd been drinking a bit at dinner and weren't in the best mental space. So we cheerily left doors open and dragged the bed from the wall, which scared Monty and his Dingleberry enough that they both scuttled out from under the bed, down the hall and then ended up under the couch in the living room. Damn.

As an aside, it's very amusing to watch a cat try to run away from its own butt. I mean, it's moving so fast that you can't actually see the offending bit, but you know there's something "off" about the way the cat's backside is moving (some extra "wobble" in there), and the cat certainly knows that something is off and wobbling in places there should never be wobble. Not until you achieve separation of the poo bit and its angry feline host do you actually get a good look at what's been upsetting the cat all this time.

Doug, who can hold his booze better than I, mentioned that we might want to limit the cat's movement, so I closed the bedroom door. Doug moved the couch, and out flew Monty and dingleberry, both. All of this action finally dislodged Monty's unwelcome lodger, which rolled along the floor (as these things are wont to do) right in front of the bathroom. I cornered the cat in the bathroom (Monty was howling loudly at this point) and checked his rump for further stowaways. Then I threw the cause of all this ruckus, a little spherical turdlet, into Ejecto! the Megatoilet and that was that.

This morning, I found a lonely turd nestled between my boots and the shoe rack...at the opposite end of the apartment, right next to the front door. Do these things migrate?

**Ever notice that when the cats are just being neutral, they're our cats. But if Ethel does something especially cute or smart, she's my cat. If she's being a pill, she's the cat. If Monty is running around with dingleberries, he is, without a doubt, Doug's cat.

It was revealed to me with a host of cherubim (if cherubim looked like the backside of a golden retriever) that this is the Year of the Anus. Specifically, regina_of_york and fenryng's dog's anus. First, Jay gave Hunter anxiety hemorrhoids, then the dog could not stop shoving his butt into people's faces. Sitting on the couch meant it was Open Season on your face.

All that considered, it was a brilliant weekend in NH. Many thanks go to the hosts, regina and fenryng, but huge props go to balefont and Jay for bringing that crack-in-a-box, Rock Band. And "we're not worthy" props go to stegoking and lady stego for the singing chops. Also, Jay cooked a kick-ass breakfast. And misunderstruck makes a mean garlic bread.

And Excalibur should assume its rightful spot as Best Movie Ever. It has to be, because it incorporates elements from every other awesome film out there. How many different ones did we find therein? (besides the Batman breastplate nipple, the metal-bustier from Desperately Seeking Susan, and some random Star Wars moments?)

ANAAL NATHRAKH!