oldie but goodie

...oopsie

the problem with someone being dependant on you is.... when you had to leave town on an emergency business trip straight from work, sometimes there's no way of getting some stand-in help. sometimes there's noone you could ask, because, let's be honest: how would you tell them there's this bloke who lives in your locker?

good thing that Fish doesn't complain. so I got home, gave him his food, told him I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just left him in there like this and held him to my chest for a while, untill he stopped gasping. he's a good Fish, him.

fish 1

I picked up Fish in a supermarket. not the food kind. I call him Fish 'coz every time something happens he gasps for air and does this open-close-gasp-gasp thing fish do when ya drag them out of the water and let them choke on the floor of your boat. you know what I mean? that's Fish. I bumped into his cart by accident (yeah, riiiight) and told him to mind his way, didn't he see me there. gasp-gasp-fishy-fishy

we went to the cashier together and I went home with him where he got to know my less friendly side. it's not that I don't like him, see... it's just... he makes me so angry with his passive waiting, accepting any shove in any direction. buy hey - gotta give people what they deserve, ey?

note to self: remember to pick up dog food

once upon a time...

... I was this nice little kid, with crooked teeth, pigtails and grubby knees. I must admit, though I was interested in everything happening around me, I never quite got the hang of how people interact with one another. I always felt weird around other kids, but got on fine with cats and dogs and the creepy-crawlies.

when I got older, my daddy cleared a room in the basement and set up shelves and a workbench, a high-power current line for a potter's wheel and all his tools and then kind of forgot all about it. I didn't, though. I went down there every day, playing with his toys. I got into taking the toaster or the vcr apart and checking out how it looked like inside, making slight adjustments that drove my mother crazy (she didn't think flying burnt toast was a good idea).

I kept on getting all kinds of experimenting kits for birthdays or good grades and I kept on trying to find a way to talk to the aliens with an old CB-radio. those bastards never answered, though.