A few months ago, I came across a pre-school which had this sign posted in the window.

But then today, I walked past again and saw this!

And tomorrow, Brendan will be taking Houdini home with him! He lives on Strong Island and has a big yard where she can run around and not be used as pitbull bait.

Two happy endings today (NO INNUENDO HERE. REALLY. NO SERIOUSLY. STOP IT. CUT IT OUT.)

My good friend Karina lives in Brooklyn and has this backyard where feral cats just roam where they please. Totally not a problem. Karina traps them and then gets them spayed/neutered and then either tries to find homes for them if they can live alongside human mammals or ‘releases them back in the wild.’ The Wilds of Brooklyn.

So the other day she started seeing this cat that had a rope tied around its middle. Pretty tightly. So tight, in fact, that the beast had a big gash from it. The cat was not in good shape. So, Karina trapped the beast, and took it to the vet. He sewed her up and said the cat was most likely PITBULL BAIT.

DUDES. PEOPLE. STOP BEING ASSHOLES.

I know we raise cows and all that to eat. Yes, it’s cruel. It’s horrible. But to go through the trouble of training dogs to be complete killing machines because you can exploit their ability to follow orders and please their owners is a real dick move. Most of those dogs die, and probably not from wounds, but from infections. Which is a horrible way to go. I much rather get shot then die slowly of gangrene. But then to use a cat to tie it to a stake somewhere to get your pooch all riled up is like adding another layer of assholery I don’t even get. A lot of cultures have some kind of cruel animal fighting thing. But a lot of cultures also have that folktale where a kid kills a little bird and the dad is all, dude, you killed a bird, why would you do that? It can’t feed a family, you are a dick, etc. One of those harsh life lessons about mortality and precious life blah blah blah. There’s no Native American folktale where the kid trains dogs to fight and dad is like GREAT JOB KID HIGH FIVE.

Anyway this cat escaped, probably by chewing through the rope. The vet’s office made Karina name it, so she called it Houdini. While at the vet, Houdini got spayed. So now it’s recovering.

She is pretty cute. Looks like she got ink on her face. Karina can’t keep Houdini because her husband is more or less deathly allergic. He is in my top five most unhealthiest friends. Seriously. He might be number two, after my friend Doug who’s allergic to anything made up of atoms. Neither here nor there.

Right now, Houdini’s in a cage at Karina and John’s, shaking and cowering. Karina can pet her head and touch her nose and the cat appears to sniff her. The choices now are to release her back into the wild after she recovers or find a home. But it’s not clear whether she’s a domestic cat that just got Admiral Shaft or if she is feral. She’s not hissing or snapping, but she’s also in some kind of strange comatose state of fear. Anyway, the ideal situation is to find a home, if the cat seems domesticated. But she wouldn’t be a very cat-like cat. I mean she could eventually, hopefully. But she probably needs a home with patient and sensitive owners.

I’d take her but if you saw my apartment you’d think she was better off living in a cage. So there you go.

If you’re interested, email me.

I am cleaning out my inbox and I found two really awesome things.

The first came from my friend who is a landscape architect. He was looking for a bench to spec in a drawing or whatever and found this ad in a catalogue.

I agree with Big Wayne: I really CANNOT STAND a recycled bench that sags. However, I do recommend that instead of making the bench stronger, he should lose some weight.

This next one came from my friend Dominic who is a flaky loser (YES DOM I’M TALKING TO YOU LET’S CAGEMATCH THOUGH I’M SURE YOU’LL FLAKE ON THAT) and also an architect, though his being a flaky loser or an architect has absolutely nothing to do with the awesomeness of this sweet effing poster.

A reader from Annietown, “Dill Mates” sent me a picture that upon opening, I said OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD BLLARRGGH and then proceeded to forward it to people who will most likely not appreciate it. This is why I’m posting it here. So you can not appreciate it too.

A horned lizard, found at a construction site. It is a bebeh. God I want to cuddle it. And hold it in my mouth. Not eat it. Just hold it there. That is what happens when I see very cute little things. I want to put them in my mouth. Dude, don’t ask me why. It’s just a feeling that comes over me. Some strange mammal instinct.

LOVE IT.

Is 09-09-09 over because I am over it. Listen. It’s going to happen once a year until 12-12-12. We’ve been doing it since 01-01-01. And by “doing it” I mean doing the sex making act haha jk jk jk. But not jk about the 090909 part.

I’m now in San Francisco. In the airport. My flight arrived an hour early so I’m now waiting for my ride, Dr. Jared, to pick me up and feed me Mexican food. Dudes. I’ve been in SF for like ten minutes and I haven’t had any Mexican yet. Like WTF PEOPLE. I need to get it on. And by “get it on” I mean the sex making act haha jk jk jk. MEXXICCAANNN. In the belly of this beast, narch!

I’m going to a wedding. But I swear this is the last wedding I’ll ever go to…until the one I have in October…and the one the weekend right after that one. Also in California. Ugh. I have no money. The last cent will be spent on A BURRITO. My needs are so small, surely they can be met? Yes? Yes!

Anyway I am excited to be here. I almost missed my flight. You know how there is always one jerk who gets on the plane super late, all sweaty and discombobulated, and the doors close right after they get their sad out-of-breath asses onto the plane? That wasn’t me. I was the one in front of that person. Also sweaty and panting.

For the past two days, Annietown was down. It was…Anniedown. Anyway, point is this. It’s back up. My friend Ravi hosts the site and he went on vacation to Brussels, where he is eating Brussels sprouts, obv. I mean what else would you eat there? Belgium chocolate? Yeah right. Try finding that in Brussels. They only have sprouts there. Anyway, Ravi asked his friend to deal with the Situation and now the Situation is just a distant memory from yesterday and earlier today. Man I barely remember that. Do you? Good. It was so bad you obviously blocked it out. Me too. What?

So what happened while I was gone? Hrm . . .

This McLaren rolled up in front of a bar. And, let me be clear, it’s NOT the stroller.

No. If someone rolled up in a stroller to the bar, I’d be like yeah righteouusss, let me get you a brew, Infant-beast.

But no, I mean a McLaren. It’s, like, the most obnoxious car ever. I am pretty certain it is made of douche.

You pop the hood, and it’s like all douche nozzles and dickpipes. And, like, a hamster running around in a wheel. So anyway this car rolls up, and two people crawl out. Like literally crawl out. It is a car not meant for anyone who has arms or legs. The McLaren is best suited for those who only have torsos. Seriously the seats looked tiny.

So the two people go into some bar, that sucks, it is not the bar we are in, which does not suck. And I say, you know what would be righteous. If someone did this:

DON’T WORRY HE WAS NOT ACTUALLY PEEING JESUS CHRIST PEOPLE WHO DO YOU THINK I AM? The car costs like $1,000,000. That’s United States dollars! I am sure it has lasers that shoot people if they actually pee on it. Or like, it releases hounds.