I know what you’re up to. You bozos use the same frakkin’ cut ‘n paste screed everytime. Do you actually think I’d be flattered? Um, no. And, you know, the .ru in your email addies tells me one thing: VIRUS!!!!! (I’m on a Mac, but I also work with a PC, and I had a recent breach which caused me to be wary of anything coming from the Eastern Bloc or China, as it were. Grist for a future blog post.)

Here’s the deal: Don’t bother to ask me for quotes, period. And, yeah, I realize most spammers don’t actually read these blog posts, that they use bots to locate and automatically post their Google-Language-Mangler-translated English comments (dead giveaway, btw).

So, spammers, I’m on to you. I know what you’re all up to. I will delete you. Okay? Was that helpful?

She’ll also be transporting…wait for this…dead cats.

Yes, that’s right: dead cats. Frozen, dead cats. Dead, frozen cats which have been stored in a freezer…for years. Awaiting their eventual burial, mind you. Soon, hopefully, they will be put into Iowa soil. But first, they must make this journey, packed in dry ice. In the back of a U-Haul trailer. Glad it’s not gonna be me driving the iced kitties to their final resting place. And lucky you, Cedar Rapids, Iowa! You get dead, frozen cats from San Diego! Woot!

So…you’re asking, “Why, WHY dead frozen cats? Who would possibly even HAVE dead, frozen cats stored somewhere?” Well, this friend — the one relocating to Iowa — is a…um…collector of cats. She had 200 of them at one time, having complete run of the house, and the yard, and the neighborhood… Yeah, you’re glad she wasn’t your neighbor, huh?

Anyway, The Cat Collector just cannot part with these dead cats so easily. I dunno, maybe there’s some sort of ritual she has to follow prior to burial and it’s all so time-consuming. So, the solution is to hoard the frozen felines until the time is right for burial.

Whatever. Your WTF moment from The Wiseass. It’s your gift for the nearly three month gap between blog entries.

Even though the site is still in development, The Wiseass will continue posting in this blog. Which will mean I’m pretty much talking to myself. And like a time capsule, one day visitors will read these posts and…

…will realize a whole, great civilization of words once existed here.

Yeah, the digressing. It happens alot.

So it only took the old-school online journaler 8 years to finally set up a blog.