Janaki’s high school buddy got married this afternoon. My cousin Debbie lives not far from where the wedding was and so we crashed at her house.
Debbie and her husband, Pat, were kind enough to leave their housekey out in a secret spot so that we could stay at their house while they were gone. Our only price to pay is that we had to feed and clean out the litter pan of Poopypants.
Poopypants is a long-haired back cat. I refused to call the cat by its given name, instead referring to him as Mr. Pants.
That was until the cat went to the bathroom. Poopypants shits like a 200 pound trucker with a bellyfull of fried eggs and a Penthouse magazine on his lap. You know that Poopypants has lived up to his name when the smell that comes from his covered and clean litterbox hits you in the chest.
To Poopy’s credit, he didn’t have any excrement on his long leg-hairs, as happens to some long haired cats.
Staying in Debbie and Pat’s house while they weren’t home was odd. I felt like an intruder, despite Debbie leaving notes all around the house to assure that we felt comfortable.
The wedding was lovely. I like the ceremonies where the bride and the groom get together and make a ceremony that works for them. The only reading was an great poem called The Conjugation of the Paramecium.
On the ride home I got quite loopy and began to make up songs and verbally devised most of the history of the civil war between north and south Fenton, before Janaki begged me to stop.
Because the reader is not trapped in an automobile with me for hours, neither the Abridged Oral History of the Fenton Civil War, nor Ron Goes Fishin’ will be recorded in this journal entry.
I will rest for a few hours and go play soccer at 11. The only bright side to not getting the job is that I get to continue playing with the 5-0 Gorge Hawks.
Have a good week, people.