Well, it's 5:00 a.m. here. I've been up since 4:00. Just can't sleep I guess. I stayed in bed as long as I could-all cuddled up in the comforter that Emmy was kind enough to loan me. I wrap myself up in it, in addition to really warm pajamas, for the warm & cuddly factor. It keeps my bones and joints from aching. (Thanks Em...I know I know, I must return it to you someday...) So as I was lying there I was thinking of words. I thought it you put the words "food" and "cat" together, you can reasonably come up with "fat". I also thought you could come up with "cood", but that doesn't make sense, unless it's a nickname for an Appalachian uncle (Hey Uncle Cood!) or an Amazon rodent (The diminutive cood is often devoured by the more aggressive rodents that inhabit the lower canopies of the rain forest).
Out here in the living room, where I have vertical blinds on all of the windows (and plenty of outside lighting going on) and mirrors everywhere (bad feng shui people....bad) my walls are covered in reflected vertical stripes. This is an interesting effect. This gives the effect of my walls being dressed in bad prison clothing-not too awful when you consider the slimming effect of the vertical strips. My rooms have never looked thinner.
Snicker doodles never tasted more satisfying than they do before sun up.
The Yankees won last night against the Phillies. I'm not that big of a sports nut, but I have an emotional attachment to the Yanks. I'm not anti-Phillies, I'm just pro-Yanks. But there's a lot of people out there that are I-WANT-THE-YANKEES-TO-DIE kind of thing. I don't think that's sports. I think that's displaced rage. Get some therapy. Maybe your parents bought you the wrong bike when you were twelve or something.
I'm going back to my toaster oven bed. I should be fully cooked by 8:00. According to this post, I'm half-baked.