Consumer Electronic peenee

I was making my way up Market Street, headed, as usual, to Walgreens to fight with the pharmacists, as usual, for my meds.  Those girls have developed the instincts of a cobra from years of turning back junkie forays into prescription drugs.  I kept thinking where did all these people come from and why are they IN MY WAY?  I finally realized it was Saturday, something that doesn’t really matter to those of us in the retirement field.  And a lovely, sunny Saturday to boot.  No wonder everyone had turned out, but why do they have to turn out in my path?  Who knows?  Get out of my way.

After defeating Walgreens (natch,) I had to make a grocery store run.  Yes, I am almost cooking again.  “Almost” because I was breaking in a brand new crock pot.  I have never owned one before.  I always figured if you have a stove and a pot, what’s the point?  But now that I have been marooned in an apartment with an electric stove, which I hate so much, I refuse to acknowledge it as an actual cooking device, I have discovered their (possibly) usefulness.  As I said, this is the first thing I’ve cooked in it, so we’ll see.

Also, I now realize the pot I bought is designed for one of those giant suburban families that need 6 quarts of lentils.  This is a monster that would do Alice of the Brady Bunch proud.

And I bought an air purifier in hopes that it might deal with the ambient cat hair.  There are great drifts of it everywhere here.  I think my old place was so big, you didn’t especially notice there was enough loose fur around that you could have knitted a brand new cat.   In my new apartment, it’s just me, the cat and all his discarded hair.  How he can lose so much and not be bald is beyond me.

So, the little purifier works great.  I have it in my bedroom and as soon as I step out of the door there, I can tell a difference.  I immediately start wiping my nose and choking.  I knew Saki has been trying to kill me for years, I just never suspected he was doing it by means of air control suffocation.

The purifier has a little colored light on it to indicate the quality of the air, blue is good, purple not so hot, and red is bad.  It’s like a mood ring.  It pretty much stays a lovely, cool blue, but whenever I walk directly past it, it turns red.  Bitch.  I have been dissed by better appliances than you.  I don’t care.  Suck up the cat hair and get to work slacker.

Look! It’s our old friend Gianfranco looking all photoshopped and pretty.

I do love a good blonde bitch bottom.

Ah, the mystery, the allure of a big fat, half exposed wiener.