silence is puce

I rescued SheWhoMustBeTexted's cat from up the apple tree in the back yard last night, about 9:30PM, by the method of climbing the tree in the dark and (sort of) throwing him down.  I would like to point out that I am 52 years old.  Miffed-ness gave me supermoeman strength.  After that he was extremely grateful for 15 seconds (shown in kitten-almost-cat language by winding around and around my feet causing me to trip and curse 5 times).  I wasn't miffed at him, but at SWMBT, who had refused to be guilt tripped into coming home and climbing the tree herself, even when I texted her the Pathetic details.  In fact, she texted back "it sucks to be him".  So I figure he is MY cat now, and I have renamed him to  5-spot.  "Oreo" is a stupid name.  When I am feeling affectionate, I call him 10-spot.  If you count every spot on him, he actually has 9 spots, but if you count his butt (ahem) it could be 10.

Yesterday at work a deputy told us a story that started out "I did not think it was a very good idea for 2 white officers to go to a mostly black part of Portland and take money from an Ethiopian restaurant."  You are probably saying "WHAT???" same as I was.  It was for a civil suit or debt collection or something and involved 2 twin midgets in Rasta hats being very mad, and the deputies only getting $34 because that was all that was in the cash register.  There are a lot of puns that a person can make about this but I feel a little bit cautious and will not.  (or 2 little bits cautious.)