Buffy writes:

Dear Melbotis,

i am writing to you as a last resort. i just don't know what to do anymore. everyday, i tell myself things are going to be different. i tell myself i can be good. but then i innocently wander into the laundry room and catch a glimps of black, white, or, especially, red satin. i turn my head away. i try desperately to pull myself out but then i figure one little sniff won't hurt. will it? just one little sniff of that precious piece just spilling over the top of the hamper. next thing i know i wake up four hours later, passed out, with my nose through the crotch of my mommy's underwear. when i realize what i've done, i panic. i hide it. underneath my bed, underneath her bed, underneath the couch. anywhere. and i tell myself it was only a momentary lapse. tomorrow i'll be good. oh! melbotis, what should i do? I can't take it anymore! i want to be a good girl, i really do. I just can't stop myself that from eating underwear crotches.


desperate to change,

buffy


Dear buffy,

Mel think Mel should preface response with assumption that buffy is a dog. If buffy is, say... a person... buffy beyond Mel's realm of experience. Mel has come to understand many publication can cater to your particular issue, but Mel probably not much help. Look for red, glowing sign reading "XXX". Mel thinks you stand to make good deal of money publishing in these magazines.

If buffy is dog, mel at least can try to help.

buffy, mel not particularly interested in much outside of ball, toy, towel, stupid dog next door, treat and two silly people with whom mel cohabitates. mel not have clothes aside from collar, but often see how people take them off and then go in shower place. In shower place, the people often begin to howl and yowl. When chubby man go in shower, often I hear him saying:

I’m starting with the man in the mirror
I’m asking him to change his ways
And no message could have
Been any clearer
If you wanna make the world
A better place
(if you wanna make the
World a better place)
Take a look at yourself, and
Then make a change
(take a look at yourself, and
Then make a change)
(na na na, na na na, na na, na nah)

Then man dry off with towel (but not fun chew towel), and rub his teeth with stick. He put on pants and say "goodbye, Mel. Be a good boy, today!" and Mel say "Okay" and then chubby man go away. Then white lady scream "Holy Christ! I'm late!" and run out door. And clothes smell like people, but so do everything else in smelly house, so mel don't much care. But he notice cat often sit in pants or hat. Es muy mysterioso.

So mel decide cat is formost expert on pants and chewing and ask cat "why for do you sit in the chubby man blue pant?" and cat say "Heeba weeba blah blah blue." So I try again. "Hey stupid cat-" but cat is rude and say "Wubba wubba woop woop wooooooo". Then cat try to bit me.

So mystery of panty must remain a mystery to Mel. how sad. but maybe your owner lady buy hamper and put clothes in drawer instead of leaving underwear out all over place. That mel suggestion.

Jamie woke up like a shot this morning and immediately declared "they're announcing the Oscar nominees!"

So we turned on the TV and dutifully watched Sigourney Weaver announce a few categories (they curiously didn't go into anything like "Best footwear in a Brazilan Industrial Video" or anything good).

Man, all I know is that on the eve of February 29th, I will be watching anything BUT the Oscars. I haven't seen, nor do I plan to see, any but three of the movies even mentioned.

I realize, I just don't care anymore. Let these maroons go pat themselves on the back and take up 8 hours of network time. I simply, absolutely, do not care who wins, or how pretty somebody's dress is. Thank god they aren't dragging it out for two months this year. Ugh.

Ask people "who won the Nobel Prize in Literature this year? Who won it for physics?" and they mock you. Ask them what dress Nicole Kidman had and they can tell you the color and designer.

I weep for the human species.

The Old Man kicks ass...

He's waiting for my mom to come out of the recovery room, and he's ansty but bored so he starts telling me about this book he's reading. The Old Man is reading Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon.

My Mom (The Kare Bear) is having back surgery this morning. I'm feeling a little stressed. She has really bad scoliosis, and they need to straighten her out so that when she's a little old lady, she's not shaped like a "v".



Anyhoo, they say she will take like a month to recover enough to even be mobile. Given the Kare Bear's usually hyper kinetic demeanor, this should be fun for The Old Man. The Old Man is taking time off from work to tend to the Kare bear, which should be interesting, because The Old Man finally merged with his job and became the Voltron of Finances for an oil company a few years ago. He may be a bit defenseless without his laptop and stat sheets.

I hope to get to Houston soon. In fact, I should probably buy tickets today. I need to be there, but my folks basically told me to not come, but it took me a long time to realize it was not a passive-aggressive attempt to get me to be there.

Brother Jason will go, then Cousin Sue. Then last but not least, shall be me. So hopefully I will be able to entertain The Old Man and put a smile on Recoverin' Kare Bear's face.

Anyone willing to wish my mum a "get well soon" may send her a message via Mel, and Mel will compile them for her.

Breakin' and poppin' with Pope John Paul

It's reasons like this that I'm almost embarassed to live in a democracy...

You never saw Stalin feeling he had to claim the Joementum.

More TOYS THAT SHOULD NOT BE...

There's nothing really wrong with this, it's just kind of funny.