Wayne is running around like a loon. Or perhaps he is a loon? I'm not sure. I've got a spare monitor in my room, because the one I have been using keeps doing the "flicker" thing that one that's trying to die does. And I'd rather not set the spare up until this one IS dead. And the spare is sitting where H.I.K. can see it. So he keeps trying to play with the other kitten in the screen. Kinda makes me feel bad that we don't have another kitten for him to play with, because he's so desperate to play with everyone -- dogs, cats, people, random objects, and *gasp* even his kitten toys! (Which I'm fairly sure is against Cat Law, for a cat to actually play with the toy bought specifically by said cat's human, for that purpose.)

It's not like I don't devote several hours a day solely to his amusement. And he's not that difficult to amuse -- the new kitchen rug is very lively and all, and it must be subdued. And Cthulhu has again possessed my hair, and my chair.

And he really seems to think that he's inventing a new butt-reduction technique -- surely, with enough kitten-claw holes in my butt, the fat will leak out, and it won't be quite so big, right? (Suddenly flashed to a cartoon I've seen, I forget where/when. Guy goes in for liposuction, they suck all the fat out, it goes down a tube. After that, same guy walks into a hamburger joint, and the same kind of tube is what is dropping the fat/grease on to the grill to cook the burgers that the guy then eats one of... EWWW! *scrubs frantically at imagery with mental wire scrubbers with mental Comet and bleach to be applied as necessary*) Or maybe the idea is that the exercise I get from jumping four feet into the air when he claws my butt from beneath the chair, will be an excellent exercise program. (My knees hurt from bashing into the bottom of the keyboard tray ...)

On the other hand, maybe he's just doing it to laugh at me.

Why do I have the feeling that's the most likely possibility?

Now Cthulhu has been vanquished for the day/hour/minute/second. And my laptop is really his kitten bed. After all, His Imperial Kittenness could never be caught with something so passé as a fake-wool/fur-lined plaid oval comfy kitten bed. I mean, him sleeping on the keyboard is so fashionable, why would he care that he can sleep on my pillow, on the heating pad, with more comfort? (And if I ever mention that right now he's mrrring and kneading the desk the laptop is sitting on, in his sleep, I am so dead ... So you didn't hear me say that.  )

I've decided to not have a funeral for my life and my sleep, however. Quart-sized ziplocks put in the freezer ought to be about the right size and treatment. Cheaper than "real" cryo, and easy to defrost, in case of emergency. And it's never a bad thing to have solidly frozen things on hand in the freezer, for those annoying bumps and repeat bruises (Oh my poor knees!) Not like I had much of a life before we found him in the parking lot, anyhow.

Meh. I'm also going to fiddle more with the code for the Imperial Insult Generator I made. I'm trying to make it so users can choose to have up to ten adjectives per insult. I'm doing it for the challenge of it, and if/when I figure out how to code it the way I want to, it'll be made the default version available.