Gotta do this relatively fast so I can dive into the Hell That Is the Quarterly FCC Reports (time flies, don’t it?).
So Friday, we get to the bar to discover the light in our DJ booth has gone to its final reward, so I run back up the hill to my apartment to get the clip-on light we use at weddings and parties. I get out of the car and see movement out of the corner of my eye (some of you already know where this is going).
Yes, I leaned down to pet what I THOUGHT was one of the stray cat boyfriends… and it was a raccoon. He wasn’t at all alarmed by my “Heeeeey, RACCOON!” and sudden flight to the door, he just kept ambling along.
I just have this horrible feeling he was all like, “You know Callie Jean’s Mom? She’s frickin’ NUTS,” when he was talking to his raccoon homies later. ‘Cause I have a feeling that cat has been flirting with the raccoons. Just like her Aunt Wallis — who lives with Dear Sweet Mama and makes the “hey sailor” noise at FOXES. Our cats ain’t right.
More on the weekend later — must spend some time in hell.
PS — This does officially count as one of Chuckweasel’s numerous attempts to get me murdered, although he claims I was in no danger. LIES.