Current mood:	exhausted
Current music:	Mars Volta, "De-Loused in the Comatorium"

Catalyst...
So, the other night I saw a really depressing image. I was walking home from a coffee-run to the local 7-11, and it was about 3 am. Clement street is ghost-road after all the barflies have left.
Its an urban equivalent to walking in a forest. So, I was feeling very content, and meditative when my eye suddenly caught movement down the street. There was a compost bin (those of you in less progressive cities will just have to imagine what those are :P) that had been tipped over, and its contents spilled on the street. A tiny riff-raff, street kitten was hungrily gnawing at something. I slowly continued forward, and inevitably the ultra-honed hearing of feral cats alerted him to my presence, and he shot me a panic-struck look, and bolted.....
So I walked up to where he was eating to see the vittles he had scored.

It was a piece of uncooked broccoli.
I consoled myself with the concept of survival instinct.
That and "Maybe cats do like broccoli."

On a lighter note, my cat Elvis took a big shit in my room last night.
He's such a smart cat and hasn't ever done it before.
I spanked him and felt so guilty afterwards.
His poor little meow was like "Why man, Why?"
I put him outside, and he immediately starting puffing out his fur and made a
threatening cat yowl...cowering back against the closed door all the while.
I deduced that he is petrified of going outside at night when my roomate's
demon cat is out there.He panics consistently now when I take him even close to the cat-door.
So, I bought a damn kitty litter box,some gravel,and a scooper.
I wanted the cashier to say something like "Got a cat?" so bad.
I was gonna say "Naw, man its for me."
Anyway I'm gonna spell out his name in sequins on it.
He is Elvis, after all.