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Thursday, January 12, 2006


Out Of The Mouths Of Maniacs

"The Bhudda has sharp teeth," he says.

"Why?" I ask.

"For eating people. It's true."

Anyone but Abe, talk like that would be ascribed to feverish delusions. In this case, it is feverish delusions. A day later the lymph nodes on the sides of his neck are the size of golf balls. Two kinds of mononucleosis at once, which translates to listlessness, whining, baths at 1 AM to bring down fevers (check those cheeks on the Cat--that's not embarassment) and another week goes by without posting. The Cat is feeling a bit better now, but on doctor's orders he's stuck in first for at least a month while his spleen gets back into fighting trim. No cake in the tub, no balancing on a ball on one foot. He's free to say all the demented shit he wants, though. And he will.

Poor Abe! TWO kinds of mono! He doesn't do anything halfway, does he?

Wishing him a speedy, catlike recovery.

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