My Liver is Da Bomb

OK people. Lots of news to report, some of it marginally food related, so here goes.

I just want to let you all know that my cat was kind enough to help me do paperwork today. So damn thoughtful of him....

Little cat bastard. Look, animal lovers of the world, don't take this the wrong way, but some days I seriously want to take this cat and punt him right off the verandah and into the lilac bush on the other side of the driveway.

Having this 13 pound "kitten" has sure been an adventure. I mean, he's mellowing out some, but some days he can really try a gals patience. Like yesterday. This cat has some lovely, soft, long, billowly hair which is a joy to touch, kinda fun to brush, but A FUCKIN' PISS OFF TO GET CAT SHIT OUT OF!

I mean, this cat cannot seem to take a shit without (apparently) squirming his hind end into the pile before he covers it up. I don't actually witness this, but I cannot for the life of me fathom how he manages it otherwise.I've had to wrestle him down and cut shit off his ass while naked and dripping from the shower. (We did laps inside that bathroom. There was shit and bubble bath everywhere.)

And just yesterday, I had no choice but to dig my fingernails on one hand into a wad of cat crap whilst slicing it out of his ass fur with the other. Then he proceded to celebrate by vomiting under the table. It had started to dry by the time I saw it and had to be pried off with a butter knife.

OK, you all know of course I love him anyway. But never let anyone tell you that cats are so easy to take care of. (PS: I got some clippers, and we're shaving down his nether parts tonight.)

IN OTHER NEWS: It seems that the Canadian Army Reserve thinks that if you're my age ( a ripe old forty years young, baby) you must have one foot on a banana peel. That is the only explanation I can think of why they now require us "old folks" to get a full medical in order to work at cadet camp this summer, (despite the fact that they gave me the Full Monty two years ago, including the piss-in-a-cup.)

So the taxpayers funded another full checkup which only confirmed what I already knew:

I am a Goddess. Rowr.

My doctor took my blood pressure, which was a sweet 118/80, naturally, despite the fact that me and salt are illicit friends. My liver is the Smexiest liver my doctor has palpated yet this year, (despite the fact that I think Jack Daniels really should have been knighted.) OK, I'm kinda paraphrasing about that but she was impressed. I saw it by the hunger in her eyes...

Not only that but my cholesterol is 158 (4.1 to you Canadian Metric geeks) with an HDL that's so high it's off the grid, and a disgustingly ideal 2.2 ratio. Take that, beef eating beeyotches...

Seriously though, I credit my near-vegan diet for my stoo-pendous numbers. I even photocopied the bloodtest cuz I figured they wouldn't believe me if I just wrote it down. (WHAT? A forty-year old without High Cholesterol and High Blood pressure? Gadzooks, lets get her on the table and let aliens probe her anally!)

Finally, this is a note to all my buds north of the border. Seems my article about the Nudist Colony I wrote for Saltscapes last summer has been bought, and condensed, and thoroughly masturbated to by none other than Reader's Digest! (OK, I'm guessing about the masturbation thing...) But it results in a few bucks that I had to do nothing for other than jump up and down and freak out a little. Please do me a favor if you're a Canuck and buy the mag on July 10th, and then write them a letter and tell them how Smexy my liver is.

I wish I was kidding about that.....