All was quiet today! The roaches must have worked. All I can hear is the occasional grim crunch behind the walls when one of those little fiendish cookies gets attacked by the roaches. Now if only I can get the cats to come out of hiding. All will be forgiven, I try to assure them, but I understand the cookies have perfected a sucrose-based brain-washing technique that is utterly diabolical.
And according to my grandfather's magical wooden leg, today is National Chocolate Milkshake Day. It's not magical in that you can wave it wildly around and do amazing feats of prestidigitation with it (the leg, not the milkshake,) it's more that if you have a Pure Heart and a True Desire and you fold up a twenty very small and stick it in grandpa's shoe you can stare through the knothole in his wooden leg and have Infinite Mysteries and Unthinkable Futures and Bizarre Circumstances revealed to you. And since grandpa is Scottish, if you happen to forget where you are and glance up, you will see not only his kilt but Pure And Undistilled Horror, which is guaranteed to make you fall down clutching your eyes and throat, and it'll likely make grandpa laugh until his teeth fly out and he falls over blue from anoxia.
Today's colour: cerulean blue -- the colour grandpa turns when he laughs too much
Today's scent: Old Spice cologne
Today's word: prosthetic
Today's music: Oscar Brand -- Sea Shanties
Today's goal: find the cats
Today's cat: Babel, my sweet insane tortoise-shell kitty